Debra's in for a Pound

This story was originally written for the

Heroism - the Oggbashan Memorial Event

in July 2024.

=========

She opened the metal grate and entered the pen, a large bag of dry food slung over her shoulder. When they saw her, the ruckus of barking dogs grew to a loud crescendo. She sighed softly as she approached the first cage, pouring a carefully measured portion of brown pellets into the small feeding trough. Immediately, two brown dachshunds ran in and growled gleefully, wagging their tails as they attacked their food. Even the third one, an elderly dog with a visible limp in its hind leg, hobbled over quickly to greet its cute caretaker.

"Calm down, Rufus! You're getting yours, alright?" she said, gently patting the excited creature. "Today, you can count yourself among the lucky ones," she added in a quiet whisper, glancing dejectedly at the remaining cages.

First one fed; about fifty more to go. She sighed again, walking a few paces through the narrow passage between the cages. It was covered in dirt and grime, and even a few spots of stomped-down canine feces. By the time she reached the other side of the pen, the bag was reduced to just a small handful of coarse and smelly pebbles. She threw this meager ration to the old, half-blind Pomeranian, knowing it likely wasn't enough even for this small furry ball that she'd named Biscuit.

With one final sigh, she locked the grate on the other side. She hung the protective coat, took off the rubber gloves, then changed from galoshes back to her regular shoes. She noticed the digital clock on the wall, in the buffer zone between the kennel proper and the office building of the shelter, and saw that it showed 4:35 pm.

Good, she thought. If she were lucky, maybe she'd be able to take off early?... She could then fetch Zack from school, so at least he wouldn't have to --

"Debra!"

A tall, lanky fellow called to her, just as she entered the cramped office area of the shelter.

"What is it?"

"Don't take off just yet. The boss said she wanted to see you."

Well, it looked like she wasn't going to be so lucky.

"Do you know why?"

He shrugged. "Wouldn't tell me. I'm just a lowly part-time contractor, remember?"

"Alright, I'll go see her. Thanks."

Out of his earshot Debra cursed under her breath, walking through the hallways to reach the office of her director. She knew the facility well enough to arrive pretty quickly, but then there was a moment of hesitation. Before she rapped on the door, a sense of dread washed over her, passing almost immediately but still giving her a pause.

"Come in!"

"Hey, Shanice," Debra said, letting herself in. "Evan said you wanted to see me."

Behind the desk, most of which was taken by an ancient monitor of an equally old PC, there was a plump, middle-aged black woman. Looking through wiry metal-framed glasses, she regarded Debra with a kind but rather weak smile.

"Yes," she said, as the other woman took a seat nearby. "I'm afraid I don't have good news."

"What's the matter?"

She let out a whizzing sigh. "Our humane society is going through a rough patch, Debra. Donations are scarce right now, because most people don't have the money to spend on non-essential stuff like charity. I just got off the call with our regional director and, well, it doesn't look great. He said the board is considering budget cuts on the order of twenty percent, maybe more..."

Debra's cheeks lost some of their usual color. "Cuts...?"

Her superior nodded. "I'm afraid so. I'm still hoping there won't be any personnel reductions but we'll definitely have to reduce... you know, other expenses."

She swallowed hard. In the eight months she'd been working in this shelter, Debra had already learned that animal rescue wasn't for the faint of heart. The 'reductions' that her boss was talking about could only mean one thing.

"We'll have to cull, won't we?"

Shanice let out another heavy sigh and nodded. "Yes, we will. And since the budget situation is looking so dire, I've decided it'd be better if we also skipped the usual adoption drive."

Debra's eyes went wide. "What?! No drive? Not even a last chance for these poor animals to find --"

"Debra, please, calm down," Shanice said, in a sympathetic but firm voice. "I know you want to believe that every stray will eventually find its home. I wish I still believed this, too... But just think about it, girl. People are stingy with donations because everything's getting more and more expensive. Everyone's trying to tighten their belts as much as they can. Do you really think that people would be keen on bringing home even more mouths to feed in this bad economy?"

"If we convince them? Yes!" she shot back. "We just need some advertisement and you'll see that people will --"

"Yes, advertisements," Shanice interrupted her, then sighed again. "Pamphlets, leaflets, online ads... It all costs money, Debra. It's a choice between spending it for a dubious benefit or saving up what we can, and maybe reducing the number of animals we'll have to put down. To me, the choice is clear."

Across from Shanice's desk, the woman gritted her teeth as her fists balled up. She felt a rush of impotent anger. First at her boss, for she was an easy target. Then at the humane society. Then at all the people who refused to donate, or didn't donate enough. Then... Then at the world at large. The stupid, cruel, unfair world that had decided some of her four-legged wards simply had to die, just like that, through no fault of their own.

"Fuck," she cursed under her breath, then caught herself. "Sorry."

"It's fine. I'm well aware that this is an awful situation all around. I just wanted to let you know early because I'm sure there will be rumors going around soon," said her boss, then added in a lower voice, "And I'll need your help later, too. You are the most qualified person here to make those necessary judgment calls..."

Debra knew what this meant: deciding which animal gets to live and which one doesn't. She winced at the very idea, thinking back to Rufus and Biscuit. It was dogs like them, sick and crippled, that would be the first on chopping block. There was almost no chance that anyone would adopt them.

She took a deep breath. "My 'judgment call,' Shanice, is that we should try and organize an adoption drive before --"

"No, Debra. I told you it'd be a waste of time and money," the larger woman said categorically. "Better to just cull one in ten animals than to pour money into a failed endeavor and end up culling one in five."

Debra couldn't argue with the logic. But she also didn't share Shanice's grim pessimism.

"Look, if we just --"

"Debra! Stop it!" the boss raised her voice. "We are not doing this and that's final!"

Hanging her head low, Debra gave her superior a very reluctant nod. '"Is that all?"

"Yes. I'll let you know when I have the official budget numbers. Until then, this is between you and me."

"Understood."

Closing the door, Debra felt like she was saddled with a fifty-pound bag of bricks. Shoulders slumped, she trudged along the empty corridors, struggling to hold back tears.

***

"Debbie? Is there something wrong?"

She turned around and managed to smile at her little brother. "No, Zack. I'm just a bit tired is all," she said, then went back to churning the stir fry that she was cooking on the stove. "What about you? How was school today?"

The boy's eyes lit up, as he related some fun incident that happened in his sixth-grade math class. Debra smiled, more genuinely this time, thanking some higher power that she barely believed in for how some things in her life weren't a complete disaster.

As all the animals in the shelter she worked in, so were Debra and her brother Zack: strays. Their father left them when the boy was only an infant, and even the twenty two year-old Debra had only bad memories of the abusive drunkard.

Unfortunately, their mother hadn't been any better. Most of the time she was high as a kite, paying little attention to what her two kids were doing, so it mostly fell on Debra to take care of the little guy. When the neglectful woman inevitably kicked the bucket from substance overdose, the girl vowed she'd give Zack a more stable home than the drug-infested hovel he had to spend his childhood in.

"Here you go, champ," she said, putting the lion's share of the chicken and vegetable medley on his plate. "Dig in while it's hot!"

One could say that she mostly succeeded. The flat they were living in was tiny, but at least it wasn't located in a dilapidated and crime-ridden part of downtown, where it could be dangerous to simply walk down the street to the subway. Zack's school was nearby, too, close enough that Debra didn't have to worry too much whenever he had to make the trip by himself. It was also one of the better-funded public schools, full of kids from the nearby suburb that, while not very affluent at all, was at least clean and relatively safe.

All in all, it was the best she could've given him, considering their decidedly modest means. Debra's earning potential wasn't exactly stellar, as she had to finish her education at the end of high school, but she didn't give up trying to improve it. An old, painfully slow laptop and the cheapest internet connection she could get were supposed to become their golden tickets, to a higher income and a better qualify of life. Her plan was simple. She'd spend countless more nights, once Zack had gone to sleep, trying to teach herself enough coding skills to eventually land an entry-level programming job.

"Did you say hi to Pluto from me today?" the boy asked, in between mouthfuls.

"Of course I did," she said, swallowing the last few bits of broccoli she had on her plate. "He said hi back and wagged his tail when I mentioned you."

"What about Ginger?"

"She purred and meowed that she was glad you remember about her," Debra answered again. "Why don't you finish up and get to your homework? Maybe we can watch something when you're finished."

"Okie dokie."

Her job at the shelter was only meant as a stopgap, but she couldn't help but to grow fond of the poor creatures. Lost or abandoned, their only dream was a stable and loving home. Although many of them were never going to find it, all were clinging to this tiny shred of hope that they would. Even those unlucky ones, that were about to sacrifice their lives so that others might dream just a little bit longer.

These were the thoughts that occupied Debra's mind, as she tucked him in and kissed her brother goodnight.

Deep down, she knew that Shanice's call was correct. There was little chance that the shelter would find enough foster homes to avoid the culling. Investing money and time into another adoption campaign -- both of which were scarce, in an underfunded pound that ran on poorly paid and apathetic part-timers -- would simply be foolish. Those resources would be better spent on more food and cleaner pens for the animals that remained.

But even though she knew all that, the girl couldn't bear to simply do nothing. It didn't matter that it seemed pointless or even irrational: she simply

had

to try. There was no one else whom these lonely creatures could count on, so it was clear to Debra that it'd have to be her.

And indeed, it

would

be her. She wasn't about to abandon those other strays -- not when they needed her the most.

It was for this reason that Debra was back at the dinner table now, hunched over the old laptop that softly illuminated the otherwise dark kitchen. She tapped, typed, clicked, and dragged, manipulating various colorful shapes on the screen, to try and arrange them in a sufficiently pleasant manner.

"There we go," she quietly whispered, when the result was finally satisfying enough to her eyes. "Now, let's just hope that it works..."

***

Although Debra had barely made it back by the end of lunch break, she didn't actually have time to eat. Instead, she went to the print shop that was a short walk and two bus rides away from the shelter. A guy whom she knew from high school worked there, and Debra hoped she could cajole him to give her a hefty discount.

"So, how about it, Michael?" she asked him in a honeyed voice. "Could we shave off, like, twenty bucks from this order?"

"No way," said the fat, bearded, greasy-haired man in a stained T-shirt. "The boss would kill me."

"Please, Mike! You can see this isn't some commercial ad. It's for the animals!"

"Yeah, no," he replied gruffly. "Pay up, or take your fleabag business elsewhere!"

Feeling lost and powerless, Debra let out a long sigh.

"Is... is there anything I could do to convince you?"

Set deep into his sockets, partially obscured by the pillows of his puffy cheeks, Michael's eyes shone with an unexpected, malevolent glint.

"Maybe there is," he spat. "Maybe even a bitch like you could be useful for something?"

She gasped. "Mike!"

She hadn't known him all that well, she realized. He was just one of those kids who were too nerdy even for her generation, thus earning himself the status of a social pariah. But she didn't recall him being so obviously and blatantly

mean

.

"Suck me off, and I'll see what I can do..."

She blinked. "What?!"

"What I said." He pointed behind the tall counter and snickered. "You can crawl under here and get to work. Or you can pay the full price and get lost!"

She couldn't pay the full price. Heck, even with the discount, printing those posters would be a heavy hit to her already-stretched home budget. But she could manage. She probably had a few pounds to lose anyway.

"Thirty bucks off," she haggled, looking him straight in the eye.

He scoffed. "Only if you swallow!"

"Fine."

There was no one else in the shop but them, so Debra simply walked over and knelt in the space between him and the desk. It curved slightly inwards, making it so that she couldn't be noticed from both the front and the sides.

The fact that Mike's pants were already down to his ankles wouldn't be noticed either. He smirked, watching her every move as she got in position and knelt between his legs.

"Ah, that's what I'm talking about," he moaned derisively, when her tongue touched his semi-hard dick. "Melissa's bitch is now my Debbie-going-Down'er!"

Momentarily confused, Debra eventually realized why Mike seemed to relish her forced submission to him. At one point or another, she did hang out with Melissa's posse of cheerleaders, but she was hardly her 'bitch.' She clung to those popular girls mostly because they offered some measure of protection from the harsh realities of the high school life. She had experienced quite a lot of those regardless, being a poor and thus highly unfashionable girl whose only real asset was her above-average, reasonably pretty face.

This Michael guy must've suffered some abuse, it would seem, from the gaggle of skanks that surrounded the head cheerleader, but Debra couldn't recall seeing anything like that. What she saw didn't matter, though, because Mike would take out his frustrations on her anyway, in a futile attempt to allay his deep-seated resentment. Unfortunately, she could do little else but to suffer through this in silence, and that apparently included tolerating his terrible attempts at humor.

"Oh yeah," he moaned, struggling to move the computer mouse to start the printing job for Debra. "Not bad at all," he added, pressing the button and making the large machine behind him buzz and whirr. "Just like that..."

He tasted of sweat and stale urine; Debra had to suppress the urge to gag. It didn't help at all that his dick grew to quite a formidable length. She maneuvered it in her mouth, trying not to choke if he suddenly decided to start thrusting. She could tell he probably wouldn't, as his groans of pleasure were loud and guttural now. He was really getting into it, clearly enjoying his bitch's mouth upon his throbbing cock.

Much to her dismay, Debra was starting to feel some of it, too. Once the foul taste had waned, she had to admit that Mike's dick might not have been the worst thing in the world. Long and thick, it would probably feel right at home in her tight pussy...

Wait, what? Did she really think that? She shuddered, mentally scolding herself for entertaining such ridiculous ideas. Still, she couldn't deny the fact that there was a growing warmth and moisture between her legs.

"Fuck!" he grunted. "This is good... I knew you were a born cocksucker!"

Debra was already bracing herself for the eruption, because she suspected she wouldn't be afforded any more warnings. She was right. It was only a short time later that she heard a relieved groan, and then the first spurt of dense salty mixture hit her throat and palate. Mike unloaded several more times, filling her mouth with cum that she dutifully held in there, without swallowing, until his dick was finally spent.

This was her coupon, after all, to cash in on that extra $10 discount.

"Good slut," he said, as she stuck her white tongue at him, staring daggers before finally gulping it all down. "Lemme fetch those papers for you..."

She crawled from under the desk and stood up, then checked in the phone's camera if Mike's spurting cock somehow messed up her appearance. Relieved that it didn't, she collected the posters and gave them a cursory glance, before putting all fifty of them in her bag.

"That'll be... sixty four dollars and fifty cents, ma'am," he said, in an excessively polite tone. "Cash or credit card?"

Debra threw the exact amount on the counter and immediately turned to leave, avoiding his gaze until she exited the shop.

"Please come again, ma'am!" Mike shouted behind her, grabbing the money and bursting into raucous laughter.

***

The next day, on Friday, Debra also skipped the 'lunch' part of the lunch break. Bag of posters in hand, she went around the city district, going maybe five blocks in each direction before circling back to the shelter. In her wake, every lamppost, traffic light, bus stop and garbage bin had a colorful notice plastered onto it, announcing an open season for pet adoption.

In the evening, when Zack was busy with homework, she told him she had just run out of her 'girl products' so she had to urgently fetch some from the corner store. Debra then went around their neighborhood and stuck a few posters wherever she could, working very hurriedly and often looking behind her back. On one occasion she even reached into her pocket, clutching a can of mace that she always carried with her for safety.

Thankfully, though, it was just an abundance of caution on her part. Other than a few unintelligible catcalls from zombified vagrants, she managed to evade the perils lurking in the dark streets.

Returning home, she brandished a pack of tampons as her bounty. It was simply the same spare pack that she'd removed from the bathroom, right before venturing out to go on her "shopping" trip. Zack was none the wiser, as he was still working diligently on the last problem in his math homework.

***

Everyone else from the shelter's staff commuted by car, so Debra's posters went unnoticed for a couple more days. It was only when a man came in, carrying a creased poster which had definitely seen better days, that her initiative would garner some attention from the people she worked with. Any comments they might've made, however, were currently preempted by the fact that the guy in question was still here. He was looking specifically for Debra.

"Yes? How can I help you?" she asked from behind the front desk, before noticing the worn-out flier. "Oh, I see you've found one of my... uhm, I mean, one of

our

posters! Great! May I therefore assume that you are interested in adopting a pet?"