Mummy & Daddy’s Naughty Diary (Erotica)

171



A man came charging out of the stable. He roughly pushed the boy down to the ground and the child skidded in the dirt from the hard impact. “Boy, how many times do I have to tell you to leave my customers be! Now git, before I put a knot in your head!” the man threatened.

The malnourished boy winced as he stood up. His resignation to the painful assault proved to me this was an everyday occurrence for this child trying to survive in an unfeeling city. He began to walk away.

“Hold on, Mister,” I angrily said. “Me and this boy, had just started negotiating a business deal when you interrupted us. Now, I’m leaving my animals hitched to this rail while me and this young’un discuss the details over lunch. When we get back, I’ll be renting a stall from you, but the boy will be tending to my animals. If you’ve got a problem with that, you best let me know right now. Because if I see or hear of you mistreating him, I’ll do to you, what you did to him!”

The promise of my retaliation quickly brought a nervous stuttering apology from the stableman. I decided to add insult to his injury by ignoring his profuse assurances, turned and retrieved the heavy gold-laden saddlebags off my mule, and walked away with the boy accompanying me.

“Well, boy, where’s a good place to eat around here?” I asked.

The child continued walking straight ahead and without looking at me responded, “The saloon next block has decent food, but I am not allowed inside.”

I didn’t bother asking him why he wouldn’t be welcomed to the establishment. “Let me worry about that,” I told him as we went inside.

Sure enough, as we entered, the bartender bowed up at the sight of the child walking with me and then hesitated as I glared at him, daring him to refuse us entry.

We walked to the nearest open table and sat down. The saddlebags thudded on the floor as I gladly dropped the weight from my shoulder.

“Need to see a menu,” I announced. A comely barmaid walked over and handed me a placard. It didn’t take long for me to make up my mind.

“I’ll have a steak, baked potato, dinner rolls and the coldest beer you’ve got.” I told her as I handed the menu over to the boy across the table.

He looked tortured as he held on to the menu without even looking at it. He fumbled handing back the menu to the waitress. “I… I’m afraid… that I lack the funds to join you for your meal,” The boy looked miserable as he thought of his hunger so prominent with the unfulfilled promise of food so close by.

“Boy, I invited you to lunch to talk business, so I’ll be picking up the tab.”

His eyes grew large as he realized that his hunger pangs would soon be sated by a hot meal. I could tell he was awkwardly working himself up to giving me the commiserate amount of appreciative thanks when I deflected it away from him.

“Tell you what ma’am, just bring the child the biggest steak you’ve got, baked potato, rolls, and that demijohn of apple cider you’ve got there.” I pointed to the bottle inscribed with its content.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

“Now, boy, before we start talking, we gotta do some serious eating,” I intoned, as I slathered up a hot dinner roll with butter and dipped it into a pool of honey. In seconds, the boy had matched my action and I soon called for another bowl of rolls for our table.

During our meal, I soon became aware that the boy was sneaking food off the table and storing it surreptitiously inside his tattered shirt. Half his uneaten steak and the remaining half of his potato wrapped in his table napkin were followed by numerous rolls and a couple of apples from a fruit bowl on the table.

I didn’t feel that any good would come from shaming him by bringing it to attention. Finally, I pushed back from the table with a groan of pleasure at not having to eat my cooking after two weeks on the trail.

“Guess I need to introduce myself,” I said, “I’m Zebulon Russell, my friends call me Zeb. I’m here to see about buying some goods and taking them to sell in California. I expect to be here for about three to five days, depending on what I can negotiate. I suppose you can tell me the name of a decent hotel?”

The boy nodded at my information as he finished his swallow of food. I had to pay attention to his soft quiet voice pronouncing words with an inherent Teutonic flavor.

“A pleasure to meet you, Herr Russell. I am Willi Kemmler. There is a hotel right behind this saloon that can serve your needs. I would be honored to attend to your horse and mule for the duration of your stay.” He said.

“There’s a $10 dollar gold piece for you to tend to my horse and feed him during my visit. I intend to sell the mule while I’m here, so you wouldn’t have to care so much for it.”

Willi’s eyes grew large with the pronouncement of the vast sum of money coming his way.

“I will look after both at all times, Sir,” he assured me. “They will want for nothing.”

Will the stableman give you any trouble?” I asked.

“While I’m tending to your animals, he will not interfere,” Willi shrugged.

That left open what the future held for Willi after I left town and the stableman could exact his punishment on the young boy. I paid for our meal, hefted my saddlebags, and watched with sadness as Willi carefully walked to not spill out any of the food snuck away in his shirt.

After escorting me to the hotel, Willi walked back towards the stable. I notice a small, barefooted child in a grimy burlap dress running up to him. She looked to be five years old. Her hair was blonde and her features were like Willi’s. Willi dug out one of the dinner rolls from his shirt and handed it to her.

She held it in both hands as she slowly nibbled away at the bread with the acquired practice of someone familiar with going hungry. The two continued to walk side by side until I lost them mingling in the crowded street.

I walked up to the hotel’s front desk, ignoring the smugness of the hotel manager casting me a disparaging look. Well to do patrons carefully walked around me, irritated that I presumed to belong among them.

“I’d like a room and a hot bath,” I informed the manager.

“Are you sure you can afford our rates, sir?” He sneered.

I went through the pretense of ‘accidently’ opening the flap of one of the saddlebags I laid on the counter. The view of countless gold coins changed the manager’s attitude in seconds as he stammered his welcome.

I took the key from his hand and told him that while I took my bath, I needed my clothes laundered and a barber for a haircut and shave. I also required a tailor for a presentable business suit. He assured me that he would personally see to it.

That evening, dressed in my new suit, I walked back to the stable to check on my horse. The stableman was conspicuously absent as I went to the stall. I blinked at the difference in my horse’s appearance.

His coat gleaned in the fading sunlight, combed and curried with intense pampering. His hooves were buffed to a brilliant finish, accenting his new horseshoes, his brushed tail lazily swishing away as he ate oats from a feedbag. The stall was clean, with new hay.

I thought after a few days of this pampering my horse would never be the same. I looked at my mule and noticed that he too had received the same quality of care.

Suddenly, Willi was by my side, quietly describing his attention to my livestock and the attending costs of the stall, feed, and farrier’s expense for the new horseshoes. I had forgotten to compute those costs and I dug out another $10-dollar coin for Willi, which he finally accepted with much protest.

“I will be sleeping outside the stall tonight to make sure that nothing happens, Herr Russell!” Willi informed me, as though the second coin required him to extend even more services for me.

“What about your home, Willi?”

He looked down, unable to catch my eyes, and didn’t speak.

“Your parents?”

Again, he remained disturbingly silent during the unsettling pause.

“The little girl I saw you with this afternoon?”

His head instinctively swiveled up and I followed his gaze. There across from the stable, in the shadows, safely hidden away from the abusive stableman’s attention, sat the little street urchin. The debris of an apple core laid by her dirty feet as she looked worriedly that Willi would suddenly disappear and leave her alone in the world.

“Your sister?” I prompted.

After a moment, he softly responded, “Ja, Gretchen.”

“You and she were going to spend the night in the stall?”

“The stableman chases us out if he catches us, but he won’t do anything while I am employed by you.” Willi answered.

The concerned frown on Willi’s face told me that he was worried that I would forbid him spending the chilly night huddled with his little sister in the drafty rented stall.

“Willi, I want you to go get your sister and follow me to the hotel.”

Willi walked over to Gretchen and she stood and walked by his side as they followed behind me, having a conversation in German. While I couldn’t understand their talk; I could catch the gist that appearing at the hotel would cause trouble.

Sure enough, on sight of the two children, the hotel manager roared for them to leave and they were close to bolting when I demanded, “I need two cots or bedrolls in my room for these children. They will be staying with me. Get both a hot bath drawn, and send me a seamstress that can dress the girl and that tailor that made my outfit. And a cobbler to make them some shoes.”


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