Tracy's Scarecrow

Editor's note:

this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

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Author's Note:

Hello readers! It's been a while since I finished up my latest series. I wanted to write this story for Halloween but unfortunately I've been too busy for the last couple of months. This story is a little different from the others I've written so please check the tags to make sure you're ok with the content.

Does anyone have anything they want to suggest for an upcoming series? I have a few ideas already but it would be interesting to see what people want. Feel free to comment here or send me a message, just note that if you send an anonymous message then I will be unable to reply to you. Thanks and enjoy :) )

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Tracy turned off the ignition to the tractor and leaned back in the chair with a sigh. The field hands had already gone home hours ago, but she constantly felt like there was something she could do. The death of her dad had been a slow, drawn out one and she had been working with her lawyer, financial advisor, and various other professionals to make sure the farm would get passed over smoothly into her hands. She had grown up on this farm and thought she knew everything that was going on, but it felt like every day she was constantly learning something new. She got out of the tractor and stretched her arms out with a yawn. She looked out into the distance at the setting sun and the cornfields swaying gently in the breeze. She was still getting used to the fact that she owned all of it. She wondered if her dad would be proud of all the work she had put into the farm. She allowed herself a moment to take it all in and enjoy the feeling of accomplishment. There was really nothing like a hard day's work. She undid her ponytail, letting her dark brown hair fall down to her shoulders for a moment before tying it up again. Then she put her thumbs in her overall straps and headed home.

It was about eight in the evening when she heard a noise. She was sitting in front of a roaring fire in her fireplace and looked up from her book curiously. What could that be at this hour? She grabbed her flashlight and went outside to investigate. She thought maybe something had fallen and wanted to make sure it wasn't anything important.

She headed back to the barn to find a gas lantern was on. She did not recognize it as one of hers and hurried forward. Maybe one of the field hands had forgotten something and came back to look for it? It did not make sense that they hadn't come to her house first. There was a dark-haired man in the barn, and when she walked over, she soon recognized him.

"Hello, Brady." She said. The dark-haired man stood up. Brady was in his early twenties, and Tracy knew him as the son of Mr.Hillard, the owner of a nearby large corporate farm. She didn't know Brady very well and had only seen him at some town functions. From what others told her, he would jump from farm to farm looking for work but lost interest quickly. There were several misdemeanors he had been charged with but somehow, they never seemed to stick. He gave her a thin smile. He was an attractive man, but there was a glint in his eyes that always made her uncomfortable. "Hello, Tracy." He said.

"And why are you here, on my farm, after dark?" She fought the growing unease as he straightened up in his slow, relaxed way.

"As far as you're concerned, nothing."

The cornfields behind her shook and Tracy jumped as two older men moved out from where they were hiding.

"Jeb and Ryan." Tracy nodded to them both. She was pretty sure one of them had been charged with drug dealing, but she wasn't sure which one. They were both large and stocky, and unlike Brady who had more refined features, they both had pockmarked faces and unkept beards.

Brady squared his feet and crossed his arms, looking down at her. The lamp from behind him cast a long shadow. She realized then, at his feet, that there were tall red gas canisters, some of them tipped over already, empty.

Rage suddenly filled her. That no good, worthless delinquent. "You are not burning down my farm!" She yelled. She started to run towards him and was yanked back by a hand on the back of her coveralls. She let out a yelp as she almost fell. Jeb chuckled, his large hand stayed on her back.

Brady narrowed his eyes. "Really? Because right now it looks like no one can stop me." He said with a sneer. He sauntered over to her. Jeb's hand pressed down on her and her knees buckled, she fell onto her knees heavily. "Ouch!" She cried out as she made contact with the dirt.

"Hm, being on your knees is a good look for you." Brady said, looking far too pleased for Tracy's liking. He took a moment to walk over to the corn fields, which sway in the evening breeze. "Always the special one. Too good for the rest of us. Always bringing us your corn, so much better than everyone elses', to rub our faces in it." She noticed that there were more canisters behind him, and tensed. Jeb's hand was a continued reminder that she had no choice but to endure this. Brady took a silver lighter out of his pocket and flicked it on.

"No more cornfield, no quaint little farm to compete against my father." He said, almost to himself.

She couldn't believe this. She had always thought the neighbors appreciated the free corn her family used to share with everyone. The farm had been passed down for generations with each family member working hard and tending to the soil so that it produced healthy crops. The thought of her dad brought a stinging to the back of her eyes and she struggled against Jeb's grip angrily.

Brady looked at her, almost bored. He tossed the lighter onto the gasoline and it lit up immediately.

"Brady, please stop this." She said as she watched the flames lick at the plants. "It's not too late." She watched as the fire burned rapidly. The air was filled with the acrid scent of burning plants already. Tracy's eyes burned as she struggled to get the tears away from her eyes.

"Take her into the field." He commanded.

They pulled her up from the ground abruptly. "No!" She struggled against the men, kicking and struggling. She nailed one of them in the shin and he grunted, but did not let go. Pain shot into her shoulder and she let out a shriek. They dragged her into the cornfield, leaving a trail of disturbed cornstalks in their wake.

"I'm going to get some rope." Brady said. He reached into his pocket and produced a blade with a dark shiny handle. "Help! Help!" She cried out.

Brady strode over and with a soiled cloth in hand and shoved it in her mouth. She gagged but couldn't get the greasy cloth out of her mouth.

"Much better." He sneered at her. He walked over and started tying her hands together. From somewhere to her left, there was a loud thump and the sound of corn stalks getting disturbed.

"What?" He growled, his face scrunched up in anger. "Ryan, go check it out." He said. Ryan grunted and headed in the direction, shoving cornstalks aside.

"You got a new boyfriend or something?" Brady asked as he pulled the knots tight against Tracy's wrists. Tracy just glared and ignored the pain against her wrists. Inside, she could feel her heart pounding so fast she was afraid she was going to have a heart attack. Desperately she hoped the neighbors had seen the fire and had come to rescue her. There was another noise and Jeb gave Brady a look. "Gonna see if he needs any help." The large man grunted and shuffled out of sight.

He wasn't gone for even a few seconds when a loud shriek came from the direction he had walked towards. It made both Tracy and Brady jump. "What the fuck!" Brady looked over at her, as if it was her fault. He must've seen the panicked look on her face because that was when he realized something was very, very wrong. He froze when he heard the sound of something heavy being dragged along the ground. The seven-foot-tall scarecrow from the field had Ryan's leg in its enormous gloved hand and was dragging his bloody body across the dirt. Ryan was a large man, probably about two hundred pounds and yet the scarecrow looked like it was pulling him with ease. Its burlap face turned to look at Brady and pointed one long finger at Brady. He turned and sprinted away, into the field. It dropped Ryan's leg and started to walk slowly towards where Brady had gone.

It was like all the sound had disappeared from the world. Tracy watched, rendered immobile with fear as the scarecrow walked away. What kind of sick monster decided to dress up as her scarecrow? Her wrists were still bound so she got to her feet with some difficulty. She started running back to her house.

"Oh god help! Help!" Brady's screams made her break into a sprint. It was coming from the left, where the house was. The breaking of cornstalks grew louder and louder. Brady would run into her. And lead him to her...At the last moment she ran towards the farm. Her throat burned and she felt a stabbing pain in her stomach but still she forced herself to cross the path and into the farmhouse. She ran into a corner and hid behind some hay bales and tools.

Fairly soon after she could hear Brady run into the farmhouse. She heard him grab something that scrapped against the ground. She peeked between two hay bales to watch what was happening. "Get back, back!" He waved the shovel at the scarecrow. The scarecrow continued to advance, and she noticed it was dragging a very long scythe. Brady swung the shovel and the scarecrow blocked it with the handle of the scythe. In one smooth stroke it swung and Brady was still. Tracy wasn't sure what happened until Brady's head slid from his neck and dropped to the ground. Tracy let out choked noise as the body fell to the floor. The scarecrow lowered the scythe and looked at her direction. She clamped a hand to her mouth, horrified.

Her stomach dropped when the scarecrow started to walk towards her. Fighting back panic, she jumped up and ran towards the exit. She was yanked back by one very powerful pull. She swung her arms, hitting her attacker in the face. She expected the scarecrow to recoil in pain, or at least show some response. The scarecrow continued to stare at her, the dark eyeholes of the burlap mask aimed at her. This..wasn't a man. She let out a blood curdling scream as she continued to punch and kick the scarecrow with no success. With an impossible strength it threw her onto the tool bench. Tools fell off the rack beside her, nails rolling of the bench and onto the floor. She brought out her hands to protect against the falling objects. A measuring tape bounced of her arm and clattered onto the ground. The scarecrow picked up a small sickle from the tool rack and turned it in its hands, examining it.

"No, no, please..." She begged through tears. She shut her eyes as it swung the sickle down at her. It connected with a solid thunk. She opened her eyes and saw that sickle was embedded into the sleeve of her flannel shirt, effectively pinning her to the table. She trembled in fear as the monster grabbed at her shirt buttons and pulled, hard. The buttons flew in all directions. She trembled but at this point was frozen in place. A bottle of oil that someone had been using to lubricate the hand tools had been knocked over and was now dripping all over the table, she could feel it seeping into the back of her shirt. The scarecrow pushed up her bra, exposing her breasts to the cold air. She let out a whimper as it palmed her breasts in its rough, gloved hands.

This can't be happening she thought as the scarecrow groped her relentlessly. Soon it tired of playing with her breasts and moved downward to her pants. She screamed again, and kicked at the creature. Her heel collided with its body and pain shot through her leg. It was no use; the creature was solid and wasn't not affected by her feeble attacks, in fact it seemed to be entertained by it. It pulled her pants down to her ankles and she was exposed to it. It was almost like seeing her bare pussy spurred the creature on, its movements became faster, more urgent. It squeezed the bottle of oil and drizzled the oil onto her pussy, spreading it around with one hand. It spread her lips to look at her, its gloved fingers trailing down to stroke the outside of her entrance. As she looked around for something to use as a weapon, it reached into its own pants and pulled out its cock. Tracy stopped searching to gape at the scarecrow in disbelief.

It made sense in a way, but it must have been its inhuman-like presence, but she had not expected it to have a male appendage. Its cock was large and thick, the tip a bright red, and it was very hard. "No!" She grabbed at the sickle in an attempt to pull it out, but it was lodged deep into the wood of the bench. The scarecrow lunged forward, grabbing her free arm and pining her against the table. It angled its cock and thrust into her in one movement.

She had never been with a man this large before and its size was shocking. Her breath caught and she felt almost in a daze, it had spread her pussy out and she was surprised at how wet she was. It was the oil, it had to be. It was already thrusting into her, the bench shook with the movement and more tools fell off the hooks and onto the floor. It let go of her arm and put both hands on the edge of the bench above her shoulders. It was making deep thrusts into her and she had to fight back a moan. Her breasts bounced around with the energetic fucking and she started to feel warm, even in the chilly farmhouse. The scarecrow didn't make a sound and the only noise were the wet noises of its cock going in and out of her pussy. "Fuck..." she gasped in pleasure. The rough fabric of its coat brushed against her sensitive nipples. It moved its hand down to play with one of her nipples as it fucked her, pinching and rolling it in its hand. She clenched down on its cock and it seemed to enjoy it, pulling up her thighs so it could get a better position. She let out a groan this time, the new position pressed against her clit and she shifted her body so its cock could rub against her pussy walls. It was so wrong...to feel this way and yet she couldn't help it. The scarecrow continued to fuck her and showed no signs of tiring.

Her orgasm came fast and hard and it surprised her, she clenched hard on its cock as she came and it froze, she could hear the creak of the wood as it squeezed the bench hard. She felt hot liquid splash inside her in spurts. It pulled out of her and she could feel its cum oozing out of her. Seemingly subdued, it put its cock away and pulled something from its pocket. It was a potato chip bag from her lunch today! It must have fallen out into the field when she was out there. It put the bag on her stomach before it reached over and grabbed the scythe. She felt a jolt of fear again but it hefted it onto its shoulder and walked out of the farmhouse. She lay there in shock until the air on her exposed body became too cold to bear. She tried again to remove the sickle from her shirt but it had swung it in with such strength that it was impossible for her to remove. She finally started to pull her shirt through the sickle until the fabric ripped. Then she ran back into the house and called the police.

***One month later***

The police had been searching for the murder of the three men but they had no leads. She told them that they were murdered by a man dressed as a scarecrow. When they looked in the field the scarecrow was nowhere to be found. Two weeks later when she was working in the cornfield, she noticed that the scarecrow was back on its stand in the middle of the field. The next day the cornfields had been restored as if they had never been burnt before. The corn from this harvest was nice and juicy, and everyone told her that it was the best yet.

Today she strolled through the fields, towards the center. She reached the guardian of the cornfield and looked up at it. The wind blew and its large black coat flapped in the wind, its head was looking out into the distance, always vigilant. Reaching into her pocket, she tossed a candy wrapper onto the ground. A crow flew away croaking as the scarecrow moved its head and started to step down from its stand.

End