Spooktober 2020 Southern Sewing

Southern Sewing

	It was a blistering summer, a relentless heatwave bombarding the dustbowl region of the southern continental United States. Here in this forgotten pocket hellscape somewhere between nowhere and nothing does our tale take place. Miles upon miles of endless horizon where a weary traveler would be met only by occasional cacti and what scurrying critters could endure the enviroment. The only life that appeared to exist in this forgotten land had seen fit to hide from the circling scavengers that ruled the cloudless skies. That is to say with the exception of one of course. A wandering soul who thought it best to spend his vacation on a cross-country trip through the states, and currently was debating his decision as he treked across the empty highway at a sluggish pace.
	It is here that our gaze is focused on Anon, your average mundane soul, whom had the unfortunate predicament of having his car break down in the most out of the way region possible, with no aid in sight. With no others in the vicinity, and with cellar service being out of the question, Anon made the conscious decision to abandon his vehicle in favor of finding assistance down the road. He had hoped that eventually he would reach a gas station, perhaps wave down a passerby, any sign of civilization to assist him, yet none would manifest. Anon had told himself that this was his only option, and that there was no use in complaining about it now, yet he did anyway for his own amusement. As the sweat poored down his brow like rain, anon began to talk to himself.
“Travel the countryside, take photos, brag about your stupid “spiritual journey” to your friends. The hell was I thinking?!”
The heat had naturally made Anon irritable, as one could understand. But in truth, the car trouble wasn’t the real reason for his crabby mood. No, this entire trip had been a bust. There was only so many times you could give a shit about cornfields and the world’s largest ball of yarn. No wonder people visit resorts during vacation, he thought to himself, this fucking sucks.
While Anon was ponder if heatstroke or freezing was the better death, since the dessert offered both in stroke of sheer irony depending when exactly he had decided to die, his wandering eye finally came across a man made structure on the horizon. Finally, he had thought, some form of civilization. Perhaps whomever resided there could offer him water, or a phone, anything to escape the harsh conditions he was pitted against. What started as a lazy stride quickly became a frantic sprint, a dangerous gambit of over-exertion in the promise of help. As Anon’s eyes finally came into focus to the salvation he thought he had been blessed with, his joy suddenly shifted into disappointment. A mirage would have been less cruel; at least they are false delusions of his own making. No, instead Anon was met with a derelict farmhouse, a homestead with the same encouragement as a cattle skull bleaching in the sun. A worn down house, two old barns, a barren tree, and dusty lifeless earth beneath his own feet were all that greeted Anon. His voice dry and hoarse from dehydration, Anon began to cry out in vain, hoping that anyone would hear him.
“Hello! Anyone?” Anon replied. His tone couldn’t hide to even himself that his energy was wasted. No one was around, he was alone, or so he thought. Looking to make the best of a bad situation, Anon deduced that this place would make temporary shelter until tomorrow. And as luck would have it, he even found a well on the property. Greedily he drank from an old bucket, water derived from the black abyss below, this was the first good thing to happen to him on this trip. Drinking his fill, and with the sunset peaking at him from across the horizon, Anon’s curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to investigate the premises. Not much to look at of course, nothing but dirt and old wood from forgotten structures. As he made his rounds, on his way to the main household, Anon had heard something from the neighboring barn that was open, the other locked up by iron lock. A soft hum had reached his ears, a siren song of sorts that drew him into the darkness of the building. Illuminated only by dwindling sunlight peeking through the space between boards, Anon cautiously tiptoed through the barn, hoping (or regretting), to find the source of the noise. The smell of straw and cobwebs had filled his nostrils, his eyes scanned the room to take it all in. Wagon wheels, various farming tools, a skeleton of a long dead horse, nothing of which that would explain the soft humming. As Anon expected further, his ears told him that the voice was directly above him, and he could hear the soft clinking of chains as well. Directly above the tired tourist was…….a scarecrow? An imitation of humanity constructed of fabric, hay, and string was suspended in the air by tangled rusty chains, swaying gently by the summer breeze. Anon was going to breathe a sigh of relief, had it not been for the supernatural force that had sprung the scarecrow to life when it noticed his presence.
“Howdy there!”
Anon was understandably dumbstruck at what he was seeing. A scarecrow, surely, but it talked and even displayed emotion. The scarecrow was clearly sculpted to look female, a surprisingly well define figure stitched together with fabric and burlap, not baggy and misshapen like one would usually see with a straw dummy. To further compliment her female form and to strengthen the mimicry of a real woman, the being possessed a blonde braided ponytail Anon could only assume was horse hair in origin. It, or rather “she”, had a mouth with threads weaving in between the lips, constricting as she talked yet didn’t appear to restrict communication. The face miraculously could contort when speaking, as if whatever the scarecrow was filled with acted like ordinary muscle, with movement as free as any human brow or cheekbone. In fact the only thing to sabotage the illusion of life appeared to be her button eyes, black and lifeless, which seemed to clash with her otherwise perky demeanor. Dressed form fitting overalls, and a faded white tank top, the straw woman was suspended in the air tangled amongst a web of rusted chains. It almost looked comical, as if a kitten had played with a ball of yarn too much and had gotten itself stuck. Anon wasn’t sure if it was fear, amazement, or the idea that the well water had been poisoned that prevented him from running out of the dilapidated barn screaming. The creature didn’t appear to be a threat, or maybe that’s what it wanted him to think. Either way, she appeared to be incapacitated for the time being.
“S’cuse me, Mister. Hello? Ya ain’t deaf or dumb are ya? Aw dammit. Wait! Do y’all speak Spanish?......cause ah don’t. Never mind. Mahybe ah can brute force it? MA. NAYME. IS. BARBRA. JO. CAN. YOU UN-“
“I can understand you.” Anon replied, a bit annoyed that he supposedly looked slow and/or dumb to a being that likely had mothballs in her head.
“Well why did ya not say anythin’ before, Mister? Use’d to be a fella would help a beautiful lady in distress! Why there was this one movie ah saw a long time ago when-“
The puzzled passerby was taking in the scene, as he wasn’t used to seeing such a talkative scarecrow, especially one that was quick to give him sass. Come to think of it, he didn’t know any scarecrows that could talk to begin with.
“-and the dang horse could talk too! Wildest thing ah ever saw on the tv. Wait, what were we talkin’ bout again?”
“Getting you down from there?”
“Right! Could ya’ll be a doll, and help this ragdoll out of this here jam?” the merry marionette pleaded to her would-be savior below. She tried to put on her best stitched smile, and a pitiful attempt at puppy dog eyes.
Anon looked around the room, pacing a short bit as he thought about what was happening in front of him. He spied a metal rake in the corner, and picked it up. Propping the rake up, leaning on it, Anon gazed at her. She appeared sincere, and was clearly in a bind being no threat to anyone.
Shaking his head, caught in a soft chuckle, her knight in not-so-shining armor wiped the sweat from his brow. “You promise not to kill me, right? Barbra Jo was it?”
Barbra visibly took offense to the comment, and confusion oozed from her tone when responding to Anon.
“Well why would ah kill ya? That’s not very neighborly now is it? Mama taught be better than that! Ah don’t even know if ah still have neighbors anymore. In fact, ah’ve been up here quite a spell ever since-“
Anon had already stopped listening to her. He wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, merely trying to resolve the situation rather than dwell on the unintentional insult he had clearly made towards the poor woman. With metal rake in hand, Anon began to swing at the chain he thought would cause the entire metallic web to fall to the ground, as it appeared to be a rather simple tangling. With one good yank, the “chain reaction” had happened, only not as originally intended. Mid-sentence, Barbra Jo fell with a mousy “EEP!” from the ceiling, but she didn’t quite make it all the way to the ground. The chains had unfortunately had coiled around her neck, and much to Anon’s horror, she stopped dead inches before touching the ground, hanging right in front of his pale face.
“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD! I KILLED HER! OH CHRIST I JUST WANTED TO HELP!”
“What are ya screaming fer?” the woman said, gently swaying by the neck.
“You’re…..alive?”
“Well that’s kinda a complicated question ta answer really. But ya, ah’m fine as wine!”
The weary traveler took a minute to regain his composure, catching his breath. She appeared to be completely alright, unharmed and as chipper as ever. Anon should have known better; it’s not as though she had bones or a throat……did she? Questions for later. She didn’t seem to mind hanging there either, finally eye level with her visitor. Barbra Jo smiled and started moving her limbs in a playful manner.
“Didn’t mean to scare ya, Mister! Nothin’ hurts me anymore.”
In a moment of cosmic comedy, her movements had apparently been too much for the single rotting board that held her in place. In an instant the board fell, plunging Barbra to the ground, with the heavy timber landing on top of her.
“……ah’m fine.”
After helping the seemingly indestructible woman up, brushing off the dirt, the two of them stood there in the center of the barn. She greeted him with a smile as if nothing was out of the ordinary here.
“Thanks……what was yer name again?”
“Anon.”
“Right, Anon. Funny soundin’ name ah must say, no disrespect at all of course.” She replied, stretching out her arms even though she had no bones or muscles at all that would warrant such ache. “So why are ya on mah land again? We don’t get many visitors round here.”
Anon was clearly over the initial shock of who and what he was talking to, faster than most would. Sure there were questions, a lot of them in fact, but to even his own surprise he was just happy to see a friendly face, one that clearly meant him no harm.
“My car broke down……God, I don’t know how far away. Found this farm looking for help, ended up helping you I guess.”
Barbra Jo did a modest curtsey, pretending to be wearing fancy attire and not the tattered work clothes she normally wore. “Well ah’m indebted to you, Anon. Yer welcomed to stay here for the night, gotta spare room up at the house. Walk around all ya want, just stay clear of the other barn down the way.”
“Why, you got dead bodies or a tiger in there?” Anon replied in an awkward laugh, attempting to make a joke. However in response Barbra met him with a worried and desperate tone.
“Please…..it ain’t safe in there. There’s……dangerous equipment.”
“Right, got it.” He said, trying to shift the topic to something a bit less upsetting. “So….how did you get stuck up there?”
Barbra’s personality quickly shifted back to perky. “Oh that? Clumsy me, ah was trying to get some old photos out from a box up in the loft, done tripped over the side and got tangled, OH DAGNABBIT! MAMA MUST BE WORRIED SOMETHIN’ FIERECE!”
Barbra quickly ran out of the farm and sprinted to the barren fields, Anon shortly followed in pursuit to determine if everything was alright. After a short job she had stopped at the skeletal-like tree Anon had noticed on his arrival. He didn’t see any woman, or anyone for that matter, at the tree. The man was visibly confused, especially since the scarecrow woman was starting to hug the tree.
“Oh Mama! Ah’m sorry to worry ya like that! Ah got stuck in the barn……again. Oh! This here’s Anon! He’s mighty kind. He helped me as ya can see.”
Barbra Jo treated all of this as normal, not skipping a beat introducing this tree as her mother. Anon was already passed the point of normalcy. After all, he had just helped a talking scarecrow 5 minutes ago.
“Um…..how do you do?”
The tree to no one’s surprise didn’t respond.
“Your…..mother is a tree?”
The woman slapped her burlap head with her hand as if to chastise herself for being so rude.
“Yes and no. See, Mama is…..no longer with us, as it were. She’s buried right were yer standin’ in fact. But she’s still around, just like me! Mama’s held up in this here tree. She always loved this tree, bout the only thing that grew on this forsaken land.” The cheery scarecrow did a cartwheel and leapt up to one of the stripped branches, hanging from it in a playful manner. “Mama keeps me company, sets me straight.”
Anon tried to be polite. “It’s a pleasure to meet you….ma’am?”
After a silent beat, Barbra Jo fell to the ground with a thud, only one of her arms was still gripping to the branch above.
“Shoot, there goes the seam. Ah’m just a mess aren’t ah?” Barbra caught her arm, which appeared to be able to work independently, waving at anon in delight.
The weary traveler couldn’t help himself but laugh. “Let’s try to keep you on the ground for a bit. Do you need help with….that?”
“Well aren’t you just sweeter than honey?” she said, picking herself up, holding her arm. She quickly turned around to face the tree “Oh hush, Mama! I just met him!”
“What did she say?” he wasn’t certain if Barbra was the only one who could hear Mama, or if it was all inside her straw stuffed head.
“Don’t mind her. C’mon, Anon. The suns getting real low. Ah’ll show you your room, and you can help me sew this thing back on.”

	The two of them had retreated to the shelter of the main house. Lit only by an oil lantern, they sat in the living room of the weathered domicile upon a couch that had seen better days. Barbra Jo had retrieved a sewing kit from a wooden kitchen drawer, and had her back to Anon as he worked to repair her severed arm. As she hummed to herself, staring at peeling wallpaper, Anon wove stitch upon stitch through her shoulder, and was contemplating what was within his gracious host. He didn’t want to pry into her private affairs, nor did he wish to think too hard on the machinations of….whatever she was exactly, but he felt a compulsion to break the silence and make casual conversation.
“So, um, Barbra Jo….”
“Y’all can call me Barbie if ya want.” She beamed.
“Right, Barbie. Not to overstep my bounds or anything, and there’s no right way to ask this but,…are you dead?”
Barbie still had her back to Anon. She didn’t appear to be offended by the inquiry, at least he hoped.
“What makes ya say that?”
Anon was struggling to find the most polite way to ask this, taking precaution not to botch his sewing as they talked.
“Either you’re from Oz, or you came back haunting this scarecrow. Your….straw.”
Anon was already regretting this conversation. He noticed it when they first met, and his attention to detail only grew worse the minute he started patching her up. Barbie was filled with straw and cotton, like you would see in any scarecrow, only the difference here was that all her contents were stained in a dark maroon color. Her stuffing was red, blood so old it almost looked black, bits of hair almost hidden from the human eye laced between.
Barbie remained still, still looking away from Anon. Her angelic voice was calm, with a hint of sadness behind it.
“Like ah said” her button eyes glancing down at her fabric hands “nothin’ hurts me anymore….not since Daddy….” her voice trailed off. Anon had just finished sewing her shoulder shut. Barbra Jo began to flex and rotate the arm which made her whole again. Anon was playing with the needle in his hand.
“Do you…..could you…..move on? Do you need help?”
The patchwork woman finally turned to him, her buttons afraid to make eye contact with Anon. As she played with her thumbs, she sheepishly responded to his inquiry.
“Daddy never let me leave the farm before, and now…..I don’t know if ah could leave even if ah wanted to…”
There was only silence between them now, the flickering of the oil lamp illuminating the pair amongst the darkness. Anon felt sympathy for his host. She had shown him nothing but kindness, and he had to go an make the evening depressing.
“…..You know, it’s not THAT bad around here.” Anon replied with a smirk. “why with some fresh paint, field work, and some elbow grease, this place could be a real shithole instead of a hellhole.”
Barbra looked up at his face, her fabric contorting into various confused emotions until she tried to suppress giggling. Anon himself was starting to laugh, she saw that in his own dumb way, he as trying to make her smile.
“It is rather rough around here ain’t it? I’ve been meanin’ to fix that, but it’s hard workin’ an entire farm with just me, Mama, and some crows.”
He took a moment to ponder this, and decide if he was really thinking of committing to a spontaneous idea.
“My vacation isn’t exactly what I planned. Maybe….maybe I could stick around for a while and help with you some chores. Perhaps even help you get started on growing something.”
She clasped her fabric hands to her stitched mouth, if her eyes could tear up they probably would
“You’d do that….fer me?”
“We’ll sure. Besides I don’t see my car getting fix-AAH!”
He was interrupted by a bear hug, Barbra Jo hopping up and down the tattered couch with glee.
“Oh you’re the best most sweetest gentlemen ah ever did meet!
The surprised visitor padded her on the back, and promised to help her in the morning. After Barbra Jo had finally finished with her thanks, she showed Anon to his room. It was…..quaint, to put it nicely. It wasn’t exactly the Hilton, but it beats sleeping in a car. Anon lied there on a broken spring mattress, feeling the gentle breeze of the midnight summer air. Never in a million years did he ever think he’d end up here of all places. Yet despite the strange circumstances, he was….content? He couldn’t quite explain it, but the constructive path before him felt right. Anon had moderate gardening experience back home, but nothing of this scale. Still, the challenge kind of excited him, and he certainly met a new friend beyond compare. He had planned this trip to get away, perhaps find himself, though he didn’t plan on finding someone else like her on the way. Maybe this place, and her, was what his soul was looking for.

The days had quickly became weeks, the two of them working the fields and repairing the homestead attempting to make it worthy to brag about. They started small, a single acre reserved for corn. After all, they were only two people. The farm had your basic tools to work the soil, at least what little he could find in the one barn. The other, the forbidden barn, was off limits. Out of respect towards Barbrie, Anon never pushed the issue. His curiosity tickled him, but she gave him no reason to believe her secret meant any harm. Maybe she just needed space? Boundries are normal, he thought. One morning, Anon managed to hike his way to a general store miles away to retrieve basic supplies. He had to eat, she didn’t of course. The shopkeeper thought him a squatter, a bum living on cursed farmland not even the bank wanted to repossess. It didn’t much matter to Anon, because gossip between half a dozen people seemed like a small concern in the grand scheme of things. Truth be told after so much hard work with Barbra, and making the house look presentable, they were still no closer to growing anything. The land needed rain, and badly. But it was out of their hands, and all they could do is wait. He had returned from his supply run that day to find Barbra sitting with Mama. A murder of crows was perched along the branches, occasionally cawing, paying her no mind. Barbra had names for all of them, including entire backstories to Anon’s amusement. She was waiting for him to return, almost impatiently. Ever since Anon first met her, she desired to be near him. He was the first bit of real human contact she had in years, perhaps longer given the hints she dropped in casual conversation. When she was alive and wasn’t “mortally challenged” she made it seem like the farm was both home and prison, by choice of her father. Barbra’s father in question was often a taboo subject too. He was only mentioned in passing, and rarely, as if she wanted to forget him, and somehow still had power over her. Anon didn’t think it wise to push the subject, and it was in the past as far as he was concerned. He had concluded that unlike her, and by extent Mama, Barbra Jo’s father had departed these lands ages ago, or so he thought.

Upon seeing Anon, Barbra sprung from the base of her mother’s tree, and gleefully skipped to his position. She seemed…..nervous? Barbie was as playful as ever, but Anon could detect something was different this time. Her hands were playing with her braided ponytail, picking bits of hay from it, her feet unable to stay still as she looked at him.
“Howdy cowboy!” she teased. Barbra seemed to cycle nicknames for Anon by the day, whether it was from creativity or indecisiveness. “Ya get what we need for diner?”
“Of course, meal for one.” He teased “though I question why the sudden change in the menu. You don’t eat”.
“Right. ah just wanted to make ya somethin’ special tonight. You’ve…..we’ve been workin’ so hard lately ah thought we could do somethin’ different.” Her voice projected hesitation, and Anon noticed. He was beginning to piece it together, and thought it might be fun to tease her a bit.
“Why Barbra Jo, are you trying to ask me out?” he grinned.
Had the straw woman had blood, it would make her blush. Neither of them were fools, and it was pointless to keep up the illusion. After working together for a time, as brief as it was, the two of them started glancing, staring at one another while the other wasn’t looking. Barbie was as shapely as any normal woman, and Anon was starting to get in shape after weeks of working the earth. After living together for a spell perhaps, he thought, another leap of faith would be beneficial to them both.
“If it’s too strange for y’all, ah understand. Ah just thought maybe it’d be nice to-“
“I’d love to.”
“Wait, really?”
“Um, sure. Meet you by the well around 6?”
“Sure! Perfect in fact!” the patchwork woman replied. Barbie was always bubbly, but rarely like this. “Ah’ll do ma chores, same as you, we’ll freshen up, and meet there.” She began to jog away with excitement.
“It’s a date.” He called out. His eye caught Mama, swaying in the sun. “Don’t look at me like that.”

When the time came, Anon had arrived at the designated spot. The well had a grand view of the entire landscape, the perfect place to gaze at the towering mountains far off in the distance. They were the only thing that peeked from the flat horizon, save for the sun which was already in the process of setting. Anon dressed himself in the cleanest plaid shirt he could find. Relatively clean to be more specific, as best one could hope through hand washing. Upon arriving there he noticed a blanket laid out before him, a picnic meticulously prepared with sandwiches and other modest delights. It came to little surprise as to what was on the menu, but Anon was still taken back by the effort involved to prepare this all for him. The only thing missing was his gentle host.
A mousy voice had grabbed his attention from behind “Ya like it, right?”
Anon turned around and was shocked at what he saw. Barbie had abandoned her usual overalls an faded shirt for a bright yellow sundress complete with hat. It looked brand new, a contrast between her old sewn together body. Anon was used to seeing Barbra project confidence and joy, whereas here she seemed like a shy schoolgirl on her first day.
“I-I it too much?”
“No, its great. You look great. Why haven’t you worn it before.”
Barbra Jo spun around in her dress in a moment of bravery, to showcase her new self “Ah didn’t really have much reason to wear it before ah suppose” she replied.
Anon extended his hand “So, shall we?”
The two of them sat together on the blanket, things were better than expected, much more than they had been previously in fact. They laughed, they playfully argued, and when the sun went down to allow the stars to gather above, they lied there to observe the heavens. It was, for lack of a better term, a perfect evening for the two of them. Anon even played a movie he had saved on his phone. He was glad there was just enough charge left on it to do so. After all, it’s not like they had cell service anyway.
“Golly. Ah never got the chance to go to the drive-in. Movies sure have changed since then.” She said, her head resting on Anon’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I just wish I had something better than Independence Day on this damn thing.” chucking the phone into the distance. It was a useless brick to them at that point.
“Well it was lovely anyway.” she cooed, nestled next to him.
Neither of them knew what to do next, how to end the evening. A blanket of uncertainty had enveloped them, each debating where exactly each of them stood, and what one meant to the other.
Barbra sat up, looking down at the man, the one thing in her life that had given her some semblance of normalcy and companionship.
“Ya know, ah thought ah’d be alone here forever, that one day ah’d just lie out here and let the crows pick at me. But you….ah mean….you’re going to leave here eventually aren’t you?”
He was kind of caught off guard by the comment. The thought had been lingering in the back of his mind for a while now, and the choice he had to make. From the look of things, that decision was demanding an answer now.
“Ah know….ah know I can’t ask you to stay, and selfish of me to even ask.”
“Then ask.”
Barbie wasn’t sure how to process this statement.
“Babra J-…Barbie, I know didn’t plan on any of this, but maybe that’s okay. Truth be told my life prior to this vacation was, well, how can I put this? For the first time in my life I feel like I’m actually building something, that I have purpose. And while it is sort of sad to think about what I’d be leaving behind, it doesn’t really compare to what I’d be making here…..with you. So I guess what I’m trying to say is-GAAH!”
Barbra had apparently heard enough, and leapt on top of Anon with ravenous intent. The two of them had discovered what they had been missing all of this time, and Anon discovered that Barbra Jo had a tongue apparently, to his own amusement and surprise. Had Barbie possessed the ability to cry, she might have shed tears of joy. But given that her body wouldn’t permit such an expression, she opted to display her affection in more….carnal methods. With both fabric arms wrapped around her partner, Barbra Jo’s face might as well been a pillow smothering Anon, though he didn’t seem to mind. After a period of intense embrace, Barbra Jo had given her newly found love a chance to come up for air.
“Ah’m sorry, honey. Didn’t mean to be so…forward and unladylike. But ah’ve just been so lonely before you came along, and fer the first time in forever ah feel somethin’.” at this point Barbie seemed restless, kneading her dress so hard it might have burned a hole clean through with her fabric fingers “ah want to keep feelin’…..please.” she pleaded, as her other hand began to caress Anon below the belt.
The gentleman’s heart started to increase in pace, as did his pants also began to tighten. There was no going back now, not after this, and perhaps that’s what they both wanted, needed.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” he replied, as his hand started to move to her thigh.
It was at that moment something came over them both, an urge wherein all uncertainty and restraint had washed away. In a mere instant Barbie found herself exposed as did her new lover, the patchwork woman straddling and awaiting him. Her body was illuminated by moonlight, a distant howl of a coyote was their chorus. The light had reflected off her button eyes, as well as two other well placed buttons located further down, on her chest.
“Really? You actually sewed those on?” Anon teased.
Her blonde braided hair flopped down on his face as she leaned in “Very funny. A girl has to make herself look presentable.” her hand now guiding his member, inserting it into a soft women womanhood of her own artistic hand. She began to whisper in a possessive and authoritative tone “You’re mine tonight, Cowboy, and ah’m fixing to start a rodeo.”
She was soft, constricting, warm, and invoking a pleasure that came to be a surprise to both of them. This was new territory, for them and for everyone else. After all, who the hell expects to start making love to a supernatural scarecrow? She was wasting no time with this “experiment”. Up and down her hips went, a slow, moderate pace that quickly became a steam train of rhythmic piston power. Years of pent of frustration and loneliness had taken their toll, and Barbra Jo was going to ride her new “bull” until one of them finally gave out. Her hips rotating, using Anon’s manhood as a makeshift pitchfork to stir up her insides. Had she kept hat on, she’d likely scream out a “YEEHAW!” into the dead of night. Anon was doing everything he could to keep up with her pace.
“Golly gee! You sure do know how to show a lady a good time! Is that all y’all can do though? Ah’ve had horses buck harder.” she giggled, not relenting her pelvic assault on her prey below. Thank god her body had as much blunt force as a teddy bear, otherwise anon might not have lived through this.
Through his grunts, Anon tried to be as playful as her “You couldn’t handle it.” he retorted, “you might pop a seam!”
“Oh someone is going to pop alright…” faster she went, as if to egg him on “ah’m no delicate flower, cowboy. C’mon now, ah said ah want to feel somethin’!”
Anon took this as a challenge. In one quick motion, he had forced himself forward, and had Barbra Jo on her back. He positioned her legs on his shoulders to ensure the angle was just
“Oh lordy! There we go! Don’t be afraid to get a little rough, I can take it handsome! Nothing hurts meeeee~!”
The benefit of being a girl like Barbie was that she was completely correct about her statement; a ragdoll like her can take quite the punishment, which is exactly what she was yearning for. With force, Anon was on top of her, plowing her fields so to speak
“You *huff* planned this from the start, didn’t you?” he replied. “wanted to get me into shape, working the land?”
“Why Anon, MMMPH!, that’s not very ladylike of me. Ah can’t help it if a strong farmhand corrupts an innocent farm girl! What would the neighbors say?” she teased.
It was actually a good thing their farmland was so remote, because they were certainly were making quite the disturbance. Had they any livestock, they’d certainly be spooked by now. Her supernatural stuffing was coiling Anon’s appendage, a hundred tickling fingers wrapped tightly around him. A sensation overcame them both, a shuttering flash of ecstasy planted by one final thrust. Anon’s muscles relaxed, never leaving her, his breath and hers echoing each other as they lied there. However no sooner did their copulation cease did anon find himself restless again. She looked up at him with her black button eyes, her arms around him.
“We got A LOT of work left to do, fella. How’s about you get a little more rough with this ragdoll? Any ideas?” the woman egged on.
A sudden stroke of inspiration had entered Anon’s twisted mind. Barbra Jo certainly wasn’t your average gal, so he should take advantage of it. With confidence he flipped Barbra Jo over on her stomach with her responding with a cute and muffled “EEP!”. Anon gazed at her “pincushion” that was begging for a pushing. A small hole from a loose stitch was in sight. Clasping a soft round pillow in each hand, he forced his thumbs into the seam, ripping it to make it bigger so he could insert his girth. Barbie was shocked at this turn of events, yet put up no resistance. Slowly Anon forced his way in, applying his body weight as he leaned forward to speak with her “Are you ready?”
Barbie gleefully bit her finger, her voice escaping with anticipation “Oh golly yes!”
His hands gripped her hindquarters, fingers digging deep while he drilled into her. Scarecrows are stuffed, but never like this. However the comedic irony was lost on the two lovers, as they were currently preoccupied. Barbra braced herself with every impact with joy, clutching portions of the blanket she previously laid out for their quiet picnic. Had she anticipated the turn of events that were not transpiring, she wouldn’t have stressed so much about making everything look so neat and tidy. In fact this evening was just full of surprises, a self-discovery about herself and her new man. Barbra Jo liked to think of herself as a god fearing church girl, only now she was presently begging Anon to treat her like a piece of meat, with her grunting like an animal.
“Pull ma hair sugah! PULL IT”
Anon obliged with her request. For a moment Barbie contemplated and feared that Mama would hear them, which the notion was quickly forgotten as her hubby’s backside assault was amplified by her braided ponytail being used as a rein. It was her turn to be the “horse” as it were. She was insatiable. Anon was beginning to lose his focus, and he realized that the clock was ticking. He needed leverage to make sure both of them would be satisfied in kind, as the inhuman straw woman was more resilient than any normal girl. Anon knew he was on the right track given her response, he just needed to push “it” further.
He stopped. Barbra Jo was visibly confused by this. She didn’t have time to process this as she was quickly hoisted upward with ease. She hardly weighed a thing to begin with, but Anon’s previous chores had made him stronger. He slipped his hands behind her head, and standing with confidence had placed her in a full nelson, never once leaving her. Splayed like a butterfly, helpless in is strong arms, Anon began to jackhammer her without remorse. It was this position that started to push her over the edge, and good thing too, because Anon was on the verge of slipping. Her body began to quake, quiet moans turning into voice cracking screams, all the while gripping tighter to anon with paranormal force from within.
“OH LORD! THIS AIN’T PROPER! OOOOOOOOH!”
With one final javelin thrust, the two of them shuttered in pleasure, forcing them back to the earth below to lie on the wrinkled picnic blanket. Their chests heaved heavily, Barbie’s one hand caressing her button areloa, the other finding its way to lock with Anon’s hand. Both of them staring off at the stars.
“Ah…..oof….think ah I have a new favorite chore for us to do…”
Exhausted, they both drifted off to sleep, a chorus of crickets to lullaby them to dreamland. It was almost the perfect night, almost.
Barbra Jo awoke sometime shortly after their new relationship had blossomed, the sky still dark, not yet morning. What had stirred her wasn’t Anon, who still lied beside her, asleep. No, this was a more sinister sound, one she prayed to never hear again. A hellish mechanical noise was emitting from the forbidden barn, angry, and growing louder by the second.
“Daddy…”
A cold shiver ran through Barbra Jo, a paralytic state she forced herself to snap out of to wake Anon for his own safety. Grabbing her clothes, frantically shaking him to wake up, she dragged her beloved to the farmhouse as the distant forbidden barn began to glow and rattle. Anon was starting to become scared, as Barbra Jo forced him inside, ignoring his questions.
“Stay here, don’t move, don’t even make a sound!” she ordered, dousing a lamp and peering out the window.
“Barbie, please, what’s wrong?” Anon inquired “is someone here? Should I go get help?”
“Anon, honey, please!” She pleaded. “Ah need you to listen to me. For now, stay here…..”
Barbra sheepishly walked out of the farmhouse, while Anon was glued to the window, obscured by darkness. The distant barn he was told never to enter suddenly burst open, a hailstorm of wooden splinters had blanketed the field. What emerged from the barn he couldn’t believe; it was an old, yet very large tractor, with an intimidating harvester attached to the front with gnashing metallic teeth. Normally one wouldn’t be afraid of basic farming equipment, only in this circumstance no one was driving this phantom vehicle. Like how Barbra possessed a scarecrow, and how Mama dwelled within a tree, it appeared that Barbra Jo’s father was bound spiritually to the monstrous machine. It’s headlights were as bright as the fires of hell, black smoke as the night vomiting from the exhaust, and an engine roaring in anger as if some fool had teased a lion from its slumber. Barbra Jo quietly approached this beast, mere feet away from the spinning maw threatening her.
“H-Howdy there, D-Daddy.” Barbra replied. Her head down, submissive, looking at the ground like a child that was being disciplined. “You’re….awake. N-Nothin’ wrong round here. Ah’ve been good! Haven’t left the farm just like you said.” Barbie’s voice was rattled, scared, afraid to look at her warped father. The tractor made a frightening bellow from its engine, which somehow Barbra Jo could understand perfectly.
“No, no! No one’s here! Honest! Ah’ve…Ah’ve been keeping people away just like ya wanted an-“ her pleas were interrupted by another roar, she flinched at the reaction. She looked around, thinking about what her father just said, her face taking shapes as if she wanted to cry. “Ah….ah understand, sir. Ah’m sorry. Ah’ll be good. Ah don’t need-
VRRRRRRRRRMMMMM!!!!
“…..Ah understand.” Barbra then lowered herself down on her knees, her head down in sadness as the whirling harvest blades began to move towards her position.
“At least it won’t hurt this time…”
Suddenly should could hear something beyond the rumblings of her father’s engine, a yelling. Her head turned towards the noise, as did Daddy’s headlights. It was anon, frantically waving his arms, hurling insults at the tractor to get its attention.
“C’MON YOU INBRED JOHN DEER LOOKING FUCK! COME AND GET ME!” he cried.
Like a bull seeing red, Daddy shifted gears and pursued the intruder. Barbie, stunned, was starting to panic.
“Ya dang idiot! HE’LL KILL YOU!” she wasn’t sure what to do, or how to stop her father. Little did she know, neither did Anon.
Anon didn’t have a plan, he just wanted that thing to follow him. Hell, he wasn’t even certain if a possessed tractor could run out of gas. But it didn’t matter, he had to do something. Step one went great, he was just having issues thinking of step two of this master plan. Running across the flat terrain in darkness, tired from the energy he spent on Barbra, Anon fled the vehicle, which was closing in on him faster than he had anticipated. It’s headlights were transfixed on him, and rusty metallic parts were nipping at his heels. It was at this moment Anon unfortunately tripped thanks to a gopher hole, with his pursuer advancing to his horror. As Anon braced himself for the end, eyes closed cursing himself for not dealing with the gopher problem prior when doing chores, he heard an ungodly sound. Upon opening his eyes he saw Daddy being wrestled into place by giant roots emitting from the ground below, snaking their way into every nook and cranny of the malicious machine, holding it there. Anon looked around and saw that in his desperate run he had made his way towards Mama’s tree, who was aiding him against Daddy as it would seem.
“Oh thank god, Mama. I take back all the shit I said about you and your daughter losing it!” the relived gentleman replied, and was glad he couldn’t hear whatever the tree was probably thinking about him. Unfortunately this was only a temporary solution, as it the monster was slowly breaking free from the timber restraints. Mama was too weak to hold Daddy back for long, and the murderous tractor began to advance towards Anon at a snail’s pace. As snapping wood began to cry out in pain, a shadow had run past Anon. It was Barbie, holding a pile of rusty chains in her arms, the same chains that suspended her when they first met. She showed no sign of stopping, and to Anon and Mama’s horror, Barbie leaped into the harvester. Anon cried out, his voice drowned out by metal getting tangled by metal. Barbie and the chain gumming up the gears and the inner-workings of the tractor until it exploded in a fiery ball of molten steel. Daddy and Barbra were gone.
Anon ran to the burning tractor, embers scattered around him like fireflies, and straw falling like snow by his feet. Rain also began to fall, mild thunder rumbling above, as if nature itself wanted to intervene to dose the fire. He held his head, his eyes watering, collapsing on the ground. He sat there for a spell, gripping the marron straw in his hand and a piece of fabric, uncertain what to do. His misery was suddenly interrupted by a subtle tapping on his shoulder. As his head turned, he saw Barbie’s disembodied scarecrow arm waving at him. Anon was filled with both confusion and relief. She was okay. Well, more or less. He was just staring at an arm.
“…..Barbie?” he said, hoping the rain would hide his tears.
Her arm tried to communicate with him, her hand sweeping up bits of red straw into a small pile, her index finger frantically tapping the ground.
“Oh, OH! Shit, let me, um….I’ll be right back with the rake!”

Months had passed since that night, and everything after that was never quite the same. The farmland was rich, full of life, with more vegetative variety than the small corn plot the two of them originally tried to grow. Anon was sitting under Mama, whom herself was green with foliage for the first time in years. He was busy reading a book he got in town, and was interrupted by a surprise attack from his stitched together spouse. After painstaking hard work, and spending a pretty penny at a fabric store, Barbie was whole again. In fact, she looked better than ever. During her….reconstruction, Barbra Jo insisted on a few modest “upgrades” to her body. Nothing too extravagant, but she had a bit more padding and stuffing in a few areas, mostly in the chest and bottom regions. Anon certainly wasn’t going to argue with her, he got more out of the improvements than she did. Suffocating anon between her new “girls”, Anon finally pleaded for mercy.
“I was on break!” he protested in a playful manner. “and where have you been all day, Ms?”
Barbra relented, lazily hanging from Anon as they both sat beneath Mama, overlooking the estate.
“Ah was in town.” she replied. Yes ever since that night, Barbra occasionally leave the farm, of her own free will in ages. Though in truth she didn’t really have anywhere to go, not that she wanted to leave anymore anyway. Only if Anon wanted to. “The general store in fact. Ah got a surprise for ya.”
Rustling in her pocket she presented a small object to Anon. It was a bottle, a bottle of BBQ sauce to be precise. However the significance of the bottle was the label, which caught his eye instantly; “BARBIE Q SAUCE” it read.
“They’re gonna stock it on the shelves!” she beamed.
“Hey wait a minute; I do all the work around here, why am I not on the bottle?” he joked.
“You sayin’ you want to wear Daisy Dukes and pose for it?”
“Fair. But I better get a cut of the profits. 80% sounds good to me.”
“30%”
“75%”
She stood up from his lap, and began to strut away, her fingers locked behind her back.
“If this is a negotiation, ah think we better do it back at the house…” she said in a seductive voice. It took a minute for Anon to get what she was implying, which after realizing he soon chased after her. Laughing and running, eventually catching her and lifting Barbie up into his arms, they made their way back home.