The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Rebuilding the Herd

Chapter 1: Capture

mc/mf/bd/gr/la/ff

Synopsis: They may take his cows, but they’ll never take his herd!

Commissioned by Mike Lee

Authors Note: This chapter is darker than most I’ve written. It starts as a story more of revenge and retribution than pleasure alone. Some readers may prefer to skip to the third chapter as that’s where the mind control/sex/growth and all other fun and exciting things start shift into gear, so long as they don’t care how or why it’s happening.

The rain rattled down on the tin roof of the old farmhouse. Billy looked out the fogged up window pane to see what was left of his livestock huddled up around the farm. Five pygmy goats played in the yard. That was all that was left. Those bitches took everything.

His seventy acres lay mostly vacant. Where fifty head of cattle once roamed, grass now grew tall as the fields went back to pasture. A small sty where two pigs once wallowed lay empty. His horse and donkey pens now held nothing but mud filled hoofprints. They’d taken the llamas, too. That had turned out to be a foolhardy investment—and he was at least better off without them particularly—but he missed them now that they were actually gone. But, perhaps, not enough to actually want the llamas back.

He could see the streams of water shooting down the old barn roof. Also made of tin, but unlike his home he hadn’t bothered to put up gutters. He knew his machinery was kept dry in the center of the barn. Not that it mattered any more. Why couldn’t they have taken the machinery instead? Surely it was worth more—farm equipment wasn’t cheap by any standards. But no, even though all his machines ran on diesel—no one ever complained about their stench.

What did they expect building downwind from a farm? He wasn’t raising tulips! But it wasn’t like he was running an overcrowded feedlot. He had over an acre per animal, why would it surprise anyone that even with that much space their shit would still stink? Apparently his new ‘neighbor’ was that naive.

His poor cows. Billy was sure they’d found their way to the butcher’s block by now. Stupid city folk. Probably didn’t know they weren’t eatin’ cows. He licked his lips—hogs would have made good eat, though. Then he sighed, no special homemade Christmas ham this year. Damn those women!

His floor started to rumble slightly. Billy turned to look out his north window just in time to see the taillights of a semi whizzing by down the new interstate. Stupid people. It was worse at night when the big trucks went by and the overworked, overtired drivers would hit the rumble strips waking them up long enough to stay on the road another ten minutes and waking Billy up long enough to know that he wouldn’t get back to sleep. And the sirens! Oh mercy, the sirens! Because of all the truck traffic, the local highway police had found the few miles just before town to be an ideal spot to camp for sleepy speeding truckers.

He had a clear view of the highway now. The pine trees he’d planted years ago as a noise barrier had all been chopped down through the self righteous works of the property agent, Tracy Low, who’d bought the land adjacent to his for development. Apparently they’d chosen the spot because it was a scenic vista away from the city.

How an exposed view of the highway was scenic, Billy would never know. Of course, to build a development, that meant getting rid of any scenic views and bringing the city with you.

Billy curled his lip, he didn’t even know that the land was up for auction after his neighbor passed. Didn’t know his neighbor had passed either, though. Maybe he should have kept up better with current events. But news tended to stress him out. Billy found it better to tend to his farm than to stick his nose into other people’s business.

But if he’d known the land was up for grabs, he could have bought it. Then he wouldn’t be in any of this mess. If… The bank probably would have rejected his bid anyway since he didn’t have any ‘credit history’ since that asian witch Rachel Sze had taken over the main street bank.

That woman… he didn’t know who was worse: her or the the real estate broker. Tracy, the property agent had deliberately fucked him over. There was no doubt in Billy’s mind. She was the one who wanted his property after acquiring Bud’s. She was the one who dug up all the dirt to take his animals away when he wouldn’t sell. Finding any way she could to get him to leave his land or take it away. Finding bullshit ways to show that he owed ‘back taxes’. Pshaw! It was his fucking land. He ran water off his own well, he had a septic system, and he ran his own generator for electricity when he needed it—what the hell could he owe taxes on?

Oh, but that banker bitch… She’d had Billy’s number ever since she took over the Old First bank. How Rachel became friends with his exwife, he didn’t know exactly, he hadn’t heard from her at all since she left. But after the divorce he pulled all of what was left of his money out of the bank so he couldn’t get fucked over by her anymore, either. Billy now preferred a no-risk, interest-free under-the-mattress fund. He was sure it was Rachel who had prodded Tracy on to develop near his land—following what paper trail he had left at the bank. He did know for sure that it was Rachel who’d sullied his name at the CoOp, then later at the Tractor Supply saying he had bad credit.

They’d told him so directly when he last tried to get a new tractor some years ago. He didn’t have any sort of credit history, so they refused his purchase of a new tractor even though he had the cash to pay for it—said it would be bad business if he didn’t have the credit for any future repairs or maintenance.

Of course he didn’t have credit history! He didn’t buy things on credit. He wasn’t born yesterday, he wasn’t going to spend money that he didn’t have. Plus the Good Book spoke against such things. When Billy bought something he paid with cash money. Why anyone would refuse that was a mystery to him.

Another truck rumbled by. He missed those trees. Honestly he didn’t even know that the land he’d planted them on wasn’t his. His old paperwork said they were—and on paper he still owned much of what was now the highway. He only made enemies fighting the state about putting the highway there. They kept saying something about ‘eminent domain’.

After that he found out the original surveyors apparently got something wrong and he didn’t own as much as he thought he did. But he didn’t know he’d been working his neighbor’s land.

Billy wondered if his old neighbor, Bud, had known anything about it and just not said anything? Preferring instead to benefit off of Billy’s hard labor of planting all those trees so that he didn’t have to hear the highway noise either.

No... Bud was a good neighbor, and it was best not to think of the dead in that sort of way, anyhow.

Taking a look out the east window, Billy could clearly see Bud’s old house. At least, where the old house had once been. The ground was now barren and flattened with a big billboard lit up facing the highway saying “Will build to suit!” next to another that said “Commercial Leasing Available!”.

It was only a matter of time. The town was heading this way. It was ten miles twenty years ago. Six miles ten years ago. The highway had sped things on—and now with an exit ramp being built a mile away the last bit of harmony his previous life had known looked soon to vanish.

If only he could get Bud’s land back… Well, he could buy it. He’d lose a fortune but at least he’d have his peace and quiet back. It was for sale, after all. But Billy couldn’t afford it now that his livestock was taken. Hell, the billboards probably cost more than he would have been able to pay, even if he sold his old tractor and the rest of his equipment.

Sadly, the only way Billy could get anywhere near enough money to buy any of Bud’s would be to sell his own. Though he owned less than he once thought he did, he still was the land’s lord for a good amount of acreage. It wasn’t a petty sum that Tracy had initially offered him to buy it all out. The second time she’d come, the offer had been higher and his concessions less, but he still refused her. The third time she came with Rachel the banker, and a notice of all the back taxes he owed and how selling out would make all his newfound problems go away. He had a simpler solution—showing them the door.

The last time Tracy came, she had a writ of possession, livestock trailers, and the police. Bitch.

He guessed that it had come to this. He had to restart somehow, he couldn’t live off of pygmy goats alone. Billy would have to call Tracy over again tomorrow to sign away his land. It was the only way he could think of to keep on living.

At nine o’clock sharp Billy saw Tracy pull her Mercedes into the drive. He’d been up for hours, not that there was much to do around the farm now, but he was used to being away at the crack of dawn. The rain had stopped, but the ground was still muddy to his delight. Not that he liked mud, per se, but Billy enjoyed watching Tracy tiptoe through the puddles of his unpaved lot. Watching through the window he couldn’t help but roll his eyes as the real estate broker turned to lock her car remotely. Really? Who was going to thieve her car out here?

He opened the door as she was about to knock, no sense in wasting any of her time or his. “I’m glad you came to your senses Mr. Smith. You stand to make a good deal of money from working with me.” Tracy Low said walking in without making eye contact.

Billy bit his tongue. God how he hated this woman. He didn’t care about money, he just wanted his life back. He closed the door and locked it, habitually removing the key from the deadbolt, after she came in.

“Do you have a good place to sign the paperwork?” She asked, looking over his disheveled living space.

Billy sighed. “There’s a table in the kitchen.” He said leading her into the bright yellow room. He was never a fan of the warm colors his ex-wife had picked out, but they didn’t bother him enough to ever spend the time redoing the room.

Tracy set a large stack of legal documents down on the small table that sat in Billy’s kitchen. A small cloud of dust came off causing Tracy to wrinkle her nose in disgust.

Billy scratched his hip and grinned at her reaction before sitting down. He knew his lack of cleaning would pay off some day. With a grunt the older man sat down in one of the old chairs that surrounded the table.

The younger woman prepared the documents in front of him. Mostly endless walls of text with multiple small blank lines for initials visible under pink highlighter. Yellow wasn’t good enough anymore, he supposed. Not unlike whatever Tracy’s natural hair color was. Billy laughed out loud at his own thoughts.

“Excuse me?” The long haired woman asked.

“Oh, um. You’ll have to pardon me, being my age I’m indisposed at the moment.” He said getting up and beginning to walk toward the lone water closet of the home.

“Of course. I’ll have the paperwork ready for you to sign when you are done.”

Billy went to his bathroom, closed the door and took and sighed. He was really going through with it. The jar was on the counter where he had left if. He took a big swab of the blue stuff in his left hand. He saw himself in the mirror, he was ready to do it. He took his hand and smeared the blue coloring across one half of his face. He grabbed the large hatchet he had prepared earlier and took a deep breath. Then he smiled. He was going to scare the shit out that woman.

With a mighty yolp he kicked open the door then yelled “You may take my cows, but you’ll never take my herd!” then continued to scream like a madman.

Tracy screamed back at him. She looked like she’d pissed herself out of fear. He hoped she had. He felt an old familiar friend bulge up from seeing the pretty woman panic.

Tracy tried to fling the table at him before making a break for the door. Breaking a heel, she stopped for just a moment to remove her shoes and fling them at him. Billy flinched, and the heels did hurt a lot when he got hit by them—he couldn’t imagine how much it might hurt to wear them on a regular basis.

The door was locked! She tried pulling futilely once more before she tried to ram it open with her shoulder. Billy chuckled and grabbed the rope from an end table he had ready to tie the woman with. He bared his teeth and laughed out loud. “Revenge!” he cried.

The cornered woman screamed again then barreled through his front window. Billy wasn’t expecting that. He hesitated for a moment surveying the old broken glass with new blood dripping from it. Then he dove out the window after her. He coughed as he landed hard. Shouldn’t have done that at his age, he stood and shook the broken glass off his person. No worse for wear. He raised his rope, thank god he’d pre-tied it into a slipknot. Thank god she’d locked her car.

Don’t miss. It had been years since his rodeo days and there wasn’t much need to use a lasso around the farm, but instinct took over as soon as the rope was in Billy’s hands. The woosh of the rope could be heard just as he twirled the end gaining momentum before casting.

Tracy was scrambling in her purse for her keys. The blood pulsing through several cuts from breaking through the old glass pane window. Her hands were shaking—she couldn’t focus to find her keys. Damn it! She had to slow down long enough to find her keys then get the hell out of here before the old man made it out of the house.

Bingo! There were her keys! She pressed the unlock button then opened the door before feeling a tug around her neck. Then she was on the muddied ground. For once Tracy didn’t care about ruining her wardrobe—she had to get out of here!

Standing from the mud and dropping her keys and purse she bolted toward the nearby highway in a panic. She only made it a few steps before she was roughly pulled to the ground again.

Billy laughed drawing the rope in. “Now, now. You had me by the balls. It only seems fair that I have such a good grip on you, too! You took my farm, and now I’m going to take it back!”

“The farm? It’s yours! You don’t have to sign anything—you can have it forever!” Tracy wept pulling at the rope around her neck.

“You can’t give me what I already have, Tracy.” Billy coldly stated, holding the rope taut as he coiled the free end. “I want what you took.”

“The animals?” Tracy asked, confused. “I can buy you new ones. Uh, um. Double what was taken!”

Billy gave the rope a sharp tug. “You tried to take my herd!” He said angrily.

“Right, and I can buy you another!” Tracy said, frantically digging through her purse.

“No, you can’t.” Billy tugged the rope at an angle, bringing Tracy back into the mud and away from her bag. “You city folk would never understand. Land can be bought, and sure one can buy an animal. But you can’t buy a life. You can’t buy family!” He said kicking her purse away.

The comment was so absurd to Tracy she couldn’t hold her snark “You call your livestock family?”

“You’re damn right I do!” he said pulling her up to standing, nearly choking her in the process. “Anyone I choose to spend my life with is family! And you took them away!”

“Ew!” Tracy sneered.

Perhaps the futility of the situation gave her some courage to honestly say what she felt toward her captor, figuring things couldn’t get any worse.

“I’m glad I put those poor things out of their misery then!”

Perhaps she was just cornered and afraid, lashing out at her captor the only way she knew how.

“I always thought you were a pig fucker, but I didn’t think you actually loved the beasts you sicko!”

Perhaps she was just a fool.

Fire burned in Billy’s eyes and the blue war paint he’d put on earlier began to drip with his ire. He didn’t restrain himself as his free hand drew back to slap the woman. Her blond highlights were splattered in the soft mud as her head hit the ground. “Pig fucker? Jesus forgive my French! Pig fucker! I haven’t fucked you yet!”

With great restraint, Billy kept his boot from kicking the woman. He didn’t mistreat his animals. He might have to show them who was boss when the acted up, but he didn’t abuse them.

Billy knelt down on top of the smaller woman, holding her down to keep her from kicking like a mare. But the fight was gone in her after his blow. Pulling her hands behind her, he used the rest of the line of rope to tie her as she wept. He was careful in binding her arms to her torso, making sure his rope didn’t cut into her breast, didn’t want to damage the goods.

He tied another knot around her abdomen, again not too tight there. He stood back to admire his knot work. Nothing special, just something instilled in him after years with the Scouts. There was just enough slack around her neck to get a good hold on without worrying about pulling her hair. Of course her legs still weren’t bound, he’d need more rope for that. He was too angry to do much more with her tonight anyway. Plus all the crying did away with all his excitement from the chase.

“Maybe you’d best spend a night with the goats.” He sighed pulling her up. Assuming she didn’t fight too much more, it would certainly be easier walking her to the barn than carrying her like a flailing bale of hay.

“What!?! You can’t leave me tied up all night with your animals.” She wept, tripping along behind him.

“Unfortunately for you there might not be enough to keep you too warm. Ever hear of a three dog night?” Billy gave a laugh. “Don’t worry, this is the South, and it’s not expected to rain again tonight and there won’t be much wind.”

The ground was dry in the open barn. There were several open bales of hay used by the goats for nesting at night. Though most of the stacked hay was kept out of reach from the cloven critters. A strange hum came from a lone incandescent bulb that was curiously on during the day. Billy pulled down an old tractor lid hook and slid the bind from her hands to her neck onto it.

“You’ll never get away with this! They’ll find me!” She cried at him.

“Oh, I’m sure they will.” Billy said with a grunt as he pulled on the chain on the hook lifting the damsel in distress. She coughed at the initial choke pull, but he’d tied the knots so most of her weight was being held by her torso and shoulders.

Billy did a quick pat down behind her, making sure she didn’t have any cell phones or anything surprising to throw at him. He was rather surprised she hadn’t tried to mace him, he’d have to check her purse to see if she had any like he thought she did. He saw a bit of jiggle on her ass after the pat that made him smile. And he held his arms cupped around her breasts. They didn’t jiggle like they should. He walked around in front of her just in time to receive a wad of spit she’d been saving him.

Her courage had returned.

He raised his hand and she winced. “That’s right.” he said, letting down his hand without striking a blow. Billy shook his head, he wished he hadn’t hit her before. He’d never before hit a lady, and he could never again say that with honesty. He hoped he wouldn’t have to hit her again, but he had to break her and keep her broken until she was ready to be put back together again.

He let her hang there as he walked to a corner of the barn and opened up an old leather bag with clasps. He pulled out a large syringe then unscrewed the original needle, replacing it with a smaller one.

Billy came back in front of Tracy, letting her get a good look at the needle before he inserted into a bottle labeled simply “BST”. He drew the clear fluid from the bottle then tested the syringe with a quick squirt.

“What are you doing?” Tracy cried as Billy walked toward her with the needle.

“I’m going to use you to rebuild my farm.”