Debby's Debt

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Will offering up her hole get Debby out of a hole?
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QSQuinn
QSQuinn
1,828 Followers

Now this here is the story of what done happen after Ma passed, and it was just me and Jebediah left to run the farm. Pa was already dead and buried when I were little more than a babe and Ma had kept the family farm running all by herself. She done all this all while raising two kids, each one busier than a sack full of squirrels.

She was overworked and, as such, I had taken over the raising of my little brother, Jeb, when I was little more than a toddler myself. Still, I couldn't quite figure on how ma kept things going. Our farm was right poor, and her kids was always hungry. I know she owed money all over town.

I only found out when, no more than a month after the Lord took her, I got a letter from Mr Mackay.

Now, Mr Mackay was an awful important man around these parts. He ran the bank and owned half the town. Folk round here say he was the town mayor in all but title. The only reason he ain't was because that old drunk, Mayor Cooper, did whatever Mr Mackay told him to anyways.

The letter came one day when I had just seen Jacob Morton go running off to hide in his pappy's barn again. I was right mad at him because he'd grown up into a fine looking boy. We was best friends when we was youngsters, and our folks used to say, only half in jest, that we was promised to marry each other one day. It was silly when I was a girl, but now I was a woman it seemed like a mighty fine prospect.

Only, since I was no more than about fifteen years old, that boy started turning pinker than a sunburned pig in a strawberry patch every time he seen me. He ain't said no more than two words to me since, and that only on account of his mammy standing besides him, just about wrenching his ear off.

I found him mighty confusing. Time was, not so long ago we was inseparable and he would play at being Doc Watkins just so's he could take a peek down my drawers. I was determined to have that boy come a court me, I just had to find a way to help him get over hisself. If'n he asked right, he had every chance of seeing inside my drawers again without needing to pretend to be no doctor.

I was still cussing Jacob out for being a lily-livered-yellow-bellied-no-account-cowardly-varmit when old Carter came up past our farm gate. As usual he was riding in his rickety old cart behind his even older donkey, Bessie. What weren't usual was that he had a letter for me, with my name writ on it and everything. I could scarce believe it. I ain't never received no letter before, I had no idea who it might have come from.

Lucky for me, unlike a lot of the folk around these parts, my Ma saw to it that I knowed my letters from a young age. I can read most anything written in the English language, if'n I sets my mind to it.

"Debby Rose," it said right there on the envelope, all written in the neatest handwriting you ever did see. I opened it and my surprise were even more to see it was from Mr Mackay. He's so awful important around these parts that I could scarce consider he would even know I existed.

The letter read like this:

Dear Ms Rose,

I was most awful sorry to hear of the passing of your Ma out of this here world. It must be an awful burden for one so young as yourself, and a girl at that, to have to take on all the responsibilities of your family. Please know that I am at your service.

That being said, there is a certain financial matter which I feel I must discuss with you in person. It pains me to set this at your feet now, at this most difficult time, but it is something that must be dealt with as soon as possible, owing to the precarious nature of your ma and pa's estate.

Please call on me in town at your earliest convenience.

Yours in deepest sympathy,

Archibald Mackay esquire.

Now, I knowed a little of Mr Mackay from overhearing Ma talking with her friends when we was in town. From what I could gather, Pa had borrowed an awful lot of cash money from Mr Mackay before pa up and died. According to Ma, Mr Mackay was awful kind to work out a way that she could repay the debt, and we could still keep the farm.

She had to work the farm six days a week and then on the seventh, when most folk rested, she had to work another day up at Mr Mackay's house. She said she helped out around the house, seeing as Mr Mackay no longer had a wife. I felt real sorry for her. She used to come back each Sunday looking real tired. Her hair was all mussed, her clothes askew, and she always walked like she was real stiff. But she spoke real highly of Mr Mackay and always said he knowed how to treat a woman right.

When the letter came I knowed it had to do all the money we owed. The farm made very little and, from what Ma had said, it sounded like we still owed Mr Mackay a lot. Anyways, I gathered that much from ma saying that she would be going back to Mr Mackay's house every Sunday until they was both completely satisfied.

We Rose's is a tough lot, and we never leave a debt unpaid. So the very next day I marched to town, Jeb was using our only horse to plough the fields, determined to set things square with Mr Mackay.

When I arrived in town I stopped first to do some shopping, only the barest essentials for the farm, and to talk to Ester Hayes. Ester is my very best friend. Her daddy owns the general store and, owing to her living in town, she gives me all the news of what goes on in thereabouts. I also wanted to moan at her about that Jacob Morton. She don't like talking about him much, though. She always get kind of angry when I mention his name and says "That boy ain't good enough for you," and, "A man like that wouldn't know what to do with you even he did have you."

But it was always good to talk to Ester, despite all this. We was closer than sisters and she was always so kind to me. On account of us being so poor, she was always trying to lend me clothes, insisting I strip down right then and there in her room to try them on. Then she'd get all nervous that I wouldn't like the dress, her hands would fidget in her lap while fought to squeeze my very large bust into her a dress tailored for her more petite figure. This day, wanting to wear something smarter than my farm clothes, and not wanting to be rude to, Ester, I walked out wearing a skirt and blouse that was a might too snug for my ample frame. But it were worth the discomfort to see the smile it brought to Ester's face.

After leaving her room, on the second floor of her pappy's store, I started feeling real nervous. Mr Mackay's bank was the biggest, finest building in town. It were awful imposing to a simple farm girl like me. I snuck in like a stray cat, expecting to be shooed out soon as i was spotted, but the folk who worked in the bank was real nice, and many said they was real sad to hear about my ma.

Mr Macabe, Mr Mackay's assistant, gave me a seat and said Mr Mackay was eager to see me, but was real busy at the moment, and would I like a nice cup of tea? I said I would and then sat down to wait.

I must have been there nigh on hour, but I weren't too bored. It was real interesting watching the men going into Mr Mackay's office. I recognised most of them, they was nearly all the most important men in town, and they all walked into the office with their hats in their hands. It was real amusing.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Mr Macabe said I could go into Mr Mackay's office. It was getting late and most of the customers had left the bank. I felt real important being Mr Mackay's last meeting of the day.

His office was the finest room I ever walked into. There was a big soft rug on the floor all covered in oriental patterns. There were the prettiest paintings I ever seen on the walls, and big bookshelves just a groaning with leather bound books. Mr Mackay hisself was sitting behind a huge oak desk, it was all carved with beautiful patterns.

"Come on in, hon'," he said when his eyes met mine, "don't be shy, and close the door behind you, this here is a private matter."

I gave him a careful looking over afore I approached. Folks say he was once the handsomest man around these here parts, some still say so. His hair was all grey now, but it was still growing thick on top. He had the most wondrous moustaches I ever did see and his eyes was a pale blue. They was twinkling with something right mischievous when I came in. He must have been a fine figure of a man once, but time and wealth had gone to his waistline a might. Still, he oozed power and importance sitting there, and that made him far more attractive than a man his age had any right to be.

"It's getting late, sugar, and I don't want to keep you long. I know you have a fair way to travel home," As he spoke I saw through the glass window in his door that the bank was emptying out, the two cashiers locking up and Mr Macabe was drawing the shutters closed. They was mighty fine windows too, hardly any warp nor bubbles, so it was like there was nothing there. He must have had them brought in from somewhere back East. Lord knows what that must have cost. I shifted, all nervous like. I felt like a colt facing down his first rattler.

"Don't mind that, girlie," he said, "they all got families to get home to. I don't no more, so I am in no rush to leave here. I'll see to it that you get home safely too. Come, let's have a talk." He pointed to a chair that was placed almost next to his desk, not in front, like I imagined in my mind before I came in.

"I do most appreciate that, kind sir," my voice came hardly louder than a whisper.

"Darlin', now, I ain't sure how much you know about the, uh, situation with your family farm?" He spoke this like a question.

"I only knows what I overheard, sir. I know Pa borrowed some money afore he passed, and Ma was still paying it back before she joined him up in heaven." He was murmuring an agreement as I spoke.

"She was indeed, how you said, 'paying it back,' she were doing mighty fine at it too until, well, as you say..." He gave me a look that seemed like it pained him deep. I knowed he and Ma had been friends a long time, but I were still surprised to see her passing hurt him so deep.

"Sadly," he continued, "she still owed me an awful lot." He looked at me, expectant like.

I was too nervous to meet his eyes when I spoke, "I guessed as much, sir, but we Rose's is honest folk. We ain't never left a debt unpaid. I'll see to it you is paid up in full, even if it takes until i'm a hundred."

"I's pleased to hear it darlin', but your farm barely makes enough to feed you. I ain't going to be alive long enough to get paid back." This was true, even in good times the farm didn't make much. If'n we had a bit more money we might hire the labour to really make something of the land but, for now, we was lucky if we made enough to live on.

I set my shoulders and spoke firm, "Then I'll work extra, I'll come work for you like my Ma did every Sunday."

He smiled real wide when I said that, "I'm pleased to hear you say that, Debby. See, I got me plenty of money and I got me plenty of land. What I don't got a lot of, ever since my wife left, is female companionship. I do so love to spend time with a member of the fairer sex." At the word 'sex' my cheeks flushed deep red, even said the innocent way it was set me off all shy.

"I've been ever so lonely ever since my wife ran off with that no-good travelling preacher," he added.

I had heard the story, but I could scarce believe a woman could leave a man like Mr Mackay.

He was still talking while I thought this and I listened in again, right quick, "Your Ma, now, she never could pay me with money, but she was always happy to pay me with her company, and I was ever so generous as to count it as payment on what your daddy owed me."

I felt real excited at this, I had no idea how I was rightly going to pay him back in cash money. This was a good fortune I had not rightly counted on. Eager as a puppy I said, "I can certainly do that Mr Mackay, sir. Folk say I'm a mighty good conversationalist, when I gets going."

"That's fine Debby, just fine, but I had a little something else in mind."

"What?" I was suddenly all nervous again.

"Well Debby, a man like me, see, we not only get lonely for talk with a woman, but also for the touch of a woman," He looked me up and down real slow, "and you certainly is a woman now, darlin', and the prettiest one this side of the Rio Grande, unless I's completely lost my wits." He held out one of his big, soft looking hands,"All I ask is you hold my hand a little and talk to me."

I couldn't help but blush, even though he certainly weren't the first man to compliment me on my looks.

Ester says she is right jealous of my thick wavy auburn hair and pert little freckled nose. My best feature, I think is my green eyes I got from my Pa. but Ester reckons it's my bust, which she says every man in town stares at so unashamed that they will surely all fry in hell for the sin of lust. She is always going on about the difference in our bust size, wanting us both to strip down our top halves naked in her room so she can compare them. When I says she's being silly and that her breasts is a good size she always makes feel my own breasts and then hers to compare. She then does the same thing, trying to convince me I have the finer bustline. She would do it all day if'n Iet her. I do hope that girl gains some confidence in her body soon, it can be awful tiring touching her all over and pointing out where she is beautiful.

I could say nothing in reply to Mr Mackay, seeing as my mouth was drier cotton balls in a furnace, but I gave him a small nod and went and sat down in the chair by his desk he was now patting with one hand. Then, he took my hand in his and looked deep into my eyes.

"There," He said, "Is this so hard?". I shook my head. "Ain't this a decent way to work of a debt? No back breakin' work, just a man and woman talkin' and holdin' hands." I nodded, he was staring at me so hard my cheeks was fair aflame.

"Good. Good. Now, if'n you okay holdin' my hand, surely it ain't nothin' to hold me somewhere else?" As he was saying this he was steering my hand under the desk, towards his lap. I weren't thinking about much until I felt skin against my hand, all warm and hard. It took me a fair few seconds to realise I was no longer holding his hand, but something thick, hard and real hot. To me it felt like a sausage, hot off the griddle, stuffed till it were fit to burst.

I heard him moan real soft as he moved my hand up and down, and say, "Shiiiit, Debby, your little hands is so soft." I snatched my hand away like it were in a fire and leaped to my feet. He were leaning back in his chair now and I could see him from the waist down all a sudden.

I stuttered, "Mr.. Mr Mackay, you ain't... you ain't got no pants on!"

"Nothin' escapes you, darlin'." He grinned and leaned back and I could see his manhood, all rigid like a post, and pointing at me like it was accusing me of something wicked.

Staring into the eye of that thing, I couldn't have moved if there were a herd of buffalo stampeding my way. Alls I could l do was watch it as it flexed and bounced ever so slightly, moving like it were a separate part of Mr Mackay.

Now I seen a pecker or two in my time. Remember I practically raised my brother and I had to bath that boy till he was six. Then, when he turned twelve it seemed like I used to catch that boy tugging on his little worm every time I turned around. Heck, One time I even catched him doing it with my drawers over his head. I gave him such a hiding he couldn't sit for a week.

But this was something else. It was so huge. I felt I needed to take a step back just to take it all in. It was all lumpy and knotted like old rope, and it glistened something fierce. "Go on, darlin'," he was looking at me like he was hungry, "just touch it. This is one snake that ain't going to bite."

"Mr Mackay!" I cried. I reckon, in that moment, you could have fried an egg on my face it were so hot.

"Now Debby, don't be like that. You said yourself, it ain't nothing to hold my hand. What difference would it be if you just hold on to another part of me? If you do ," his eyes narrowed like a sly fox's might, "I'll be ever so grateful. It will go an awful long way to clearing up our little issue with the debt."

I didn't move or say a word. I just stared at his thing. It stared back, twitching every so often like it were preparing to strike.

"You choose sweetheart. You show an old man a kindness for just one evening, or you work 6 months in the fields and in my kitchen to make the same amount back. Really, I's doing this to help you."

I thought about it long and hard, still staring at the part of him that was long and hard. I knew there was no way I could ever really pay him back. The farm was flat broke, and any work I could get round these parts would pay next to nought. Besides, staring at the thing was kind of mesmerising, I found myself wondering if the first touch I had of it was what it really felt like.

I gave a long sigh that ran from my chest right down into my boots and sat down again.

He took my hand once more, all gentle like, and slowly wrapped my fingers around his member. I was still resistant, and he had to pull me over real firm, but once my hand was there I did not take it away. My small white hand looked like it belonged to a doll when it held him. He were so big my thumb and forefinger didn't come close to meeting. Then, real slow, he began to move my hand up and down. "See, darlin' it ain't nothin' to be scared of. It's like milking a cow. You milked a cow, right?" I nodded, but I could not look him in the eye, I didn't think it were possible my cheeks could get any redder. It really was like milking a cow though, only upside down, and thinking that made it a might easier.

He put one of his big hands neath my chin and lifted it so I had to look him square in the eye. "Look at me, darlin' I want to see those big green eyes while you work." I was wrong, apparently I could go even redder.

He leaned back in his chair and breathed real heavy, like he had just run a long ways, while I pumped on him like I was working a water pump. His eyes held me fixed in my place. I had heard stories of rattlers hypnotising mice with they eyes afore they strike, and that was how I felt all a sudden.

"That's real nice, Debby," He said, a crooked grin peeking out from under his moustache, "Though, If you really want to work off that debt you going to have to put in a little more effort."

"Whatever do you mean, Mr Mackay?"

"What's say you give me a little kiss?"

I went stiff, gripping him harder than I intended, he took in a sharp breath. "I don't know, Mr Mackay," I said, "that don't sound right."

"You never kissed a man before?"

I weren't sure what to say. Sure I'd kissed a boy or two before. Ester and I must have kissed half the boys in town behind the church, afore she said it weren't decent for girls to do such a thing and, if'n we wanted to practice for marriage we ought to practice on each other. She was awful diligent about practice, every time I saw her she insisted we practice for a half hour so's we is good and and ready for our husbands one day.

But even the kisses we gave the boys, weren't much more than pecks. One time Rick, the butcher's son, he tried to put his tongue down my throat. He said it were how they did it in France. I put my knee up into his privates and told him that was how we did things around these parts. He still can't look me in the eye, to this very day.

Mr Mackay spoke with real patience, "I'll tell you what, darlin', you just try it once. If at any time you want to stop just you say so and we can halt right away."

I sighed again and then leaned forward and gave him a tiny peck on his cheek. Then, when I tried to pull back his hand was on my neck, holding me tight.

QSQuinn
QSQuinn
1,828 Followers