THE FARM
by Milo Minderbinder
Ray Biddle, Deputy Tax Assessor for East McDowell County (North Carolina), tapped his tablet, saving his comments and observations from the property he just finished inspecting.
The countywide, court-ordered assessment meant long hours and longer days, but the next property promised to be a fast job. Block 89, Lot 475 consisted of two-hundred-and-fifty unimproved acres. No structures existed as of the last assessment, a dozen years ago.
Ray maneuvered his county vehicle, a white Honda Accord, down Highway 133, slowing to allow a box truck to pull out in front of him. He re-checked the map. The truck had come from Lot 475 on a paved driveway where none should exist. Ray turned in where the truck exited. A large sign, red letters on a white background, simply proclaimed: THE FARM.
Ray sighed. So much for an easy stop.
He accelerated up the winding driveway, more like a road, two lanes wide, fresh asphalt, umbrella magnolias lining both sides.
Ray reached the top of the hill. The road dead-ending in a parking lot, surrounded on three sides by barns, silos, and other outbuildings. Beyond the structures were fields of crops and pastures of grazing animals.
To his left, on the fourth side of the lot, stood a building that looked it belonged on a nineteenth-century plantation.
All around, young men from every race, perhaps thirty in total, shirtless and in remarkable shape, toiled away at digging, plowing, harvesting, and other chores.
Ray tapped his tablet, checking the county website. Lot 475 was owned by the S. Rivers Corp, but there was no record of building permits, commercial licenses, or agricultural registrations. What started as a quick survey was threatening to become an hours-long bureaucratic fiasco.
Ray parked in an empty spot, exited, and tried to attract the attention of one of the workers, a tall blond carrying a pair of 2x4s over his shoulder.
“Excuse me,” Ray said. “I’m looking for someone in charge.”
The man, glassy-eyed, passed by as if he didn’t see or hear Ray. Further attempts to communicate with other workers were equally unsuccessful.
Ray headed toward the house. He didn’t notice it before, but to the side stood a five-car garage. The vehicles were parked on the pavement: A Land Rover, Tesla Model S, Mustang Mach-E, BMW 7 Series, and what looked to be a mint condition 1965 Cobra Stingray. A man in a chauffeur’s uniform crouched by the Stingray, waxing a fender.
“Hello,” Ray said. “I’m looking for someone in charge.”
“In the house,” the chauffeur replied in a mechanical emotionless voice. He didn’t look up at Ray, just kept waxing the car.
Ray approached the house, actually it was more like a mansion. Four columns. Three floors. Two wings. Surrounded by a perfectly manicured garden with blooming flowers of every hue. Not a weed in sight.
Ray climbed the steps, his frustration building. This one assessment would put him behind by hours. And how did this place even get built? According to the county, none of this existed.
At the door, he banged the brass knocker. A butler type, but built like a Clemson offensive lineman, answered.
“Yes?” The butler possessed the same glassy-eyed look as all the others.
Ray handed over his business card. “County Assessor’s Office. I need to talk to someone in charge.”
“That would be the Mistress,” the butler said in a flat, emotionless voice.
Ray said, “Fine, can I speak with her?”
The butler pulled back the door, then led Ray to a waiting room. Walls lined with bookcases, bursting with volumes. A full bar. A window that overlooked an Olympic-sized swimming pool, where yet another shirtless worker fished out an errant leaf.
“Mister Biddle?” a delightfully feminine voice in a western Carolina accent called.
Ray turned. His throat tightened. He felt his face flush. This voice belonged to a stunning woman dressed like Vivien Leigh in Gone with the Wind.
“I hope I didn’t startle you.” But from the tone of her voice, it was clear that was her intent.
Ray shook his head clear. “Uh, ah, no problem, Ms...”
“Rivers. Shelle Rivers.”
The woman smiled at him, and Ray’s heart skipped a beat. He stood there gawking at her powerful brown eyes, dark hair descending to her bare shoulders, cheekbones sharp enough to slice bread, and red lips curling into a knowing smile.
Shelle said, “What did you want to see me about?”
Ray shook his head, trying to order his thoughts. “Th—there’s a reassessment that’s been mandated. I, uh...zoning... and then there’s...” He drifted off, the woman’s beauty making it impossible to think clearly. Sweat dripped down his cheeks.
“Perhaps you should sit down.” Shelle guided Ray to the couch. She fanned herself theatrically. “It is rather hot in here.” She approached the bar. “Would you like something to drink?”
“I’m on duty.”
Shelle giggled. And it was the most charming, intoxicating sound Ray ever heard.
She said, “I do have non-alcoholic drinks.”
“A sweet tea would be nice,” Ray said.
“Yes, it would.” Shelle filled a glass with ice, then poured from tea from her special pitcher, adding a lemon slice.
Shelle offered the glass to Ray. His fingers brushed hers and he felt an electric shock. He grabbed the glass and gulped.
Ray gulped his tea. Not even ten a.m., but he was tired and drained, his eyes heavy. He squinted at one of the bookshelves. The titles blurred, he couldn’t make them out completely, but he noticed the words Psychology, Neuroscience, and Hypnosis appeared on many of the spines.
Ray finished his tea. He’d never tasted anything quite like Shelle’s tea. He yawned and closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was sleep...
“Mister Biddle?”
Ray felt a slight tap on his shoulder. Ray opened his eyes. Shelle, sitting next to him, had changed clothes, dressed in all black: sleeveless mini-dress, opera gloves, fishnets and over-the-knee boots.
“Sorry,” he slurred. “I must have fallen asleep.”
“Yes,” Shelle said. “I can understand you feel very tired. But I want you to know it’s perfectly fine to relax here with me. No need to think about your work.”
“Work?” Ray said. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered the re-assessment. “Yes, I need to calculate the value of all your buildings and improvements... Also inform the Business and Ag Departments about your operations here.”
Shelle giggled. The enchanting sound flowing through him, making him feel weak and docile.
She said, “You do have a one-track mind, Ray. But there’s no need to worry about all that. Shelle will take care of everything,” she said in her most seductive voice.
Between her giggle and tone, Ray’s mind was spinning. “There’s no record of anything that you’v—”
“Trust me. It’s so easy.” Shelle flashed a dazzling smile. “Just relax, listen, and obey.
“Relax...Listen...Obey...
“Relax...Listen...Obey...
“Relax...Listen...Obey...
Ray’s head tilted to the side.
“Are you okay?” Shelle grinned.
“I think so,” Ray said. “I’m feeling a little...”
“Sleepy? Dizzy? Disoriented?” Shelle asked. “Don’t try to fight it. Let my words and voice flow through you, into you, into your mind.”
Ray tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t support him. He collapsed back on the sofa.
“You are a determined one,” Shelle said. “But it’s been my experience that the more a man fights my spell, the weaker he becomes.”
“Spell? Weaker?” Ray said.
Shelle giggled. Each time, her giggle became more powerful, more irresistible.
“That’s right. So weak for Shelle. So weak for me. So weak for my words, my voice, my control. Spiraling down.”
“Bu—”
“Relax...Listen...Obey,” Shelle said in a firmer tone.
She leaned closer, whispering in his ear.
“Relax...
“Listen...
“Obey...
“Relax...
“Listen...
“Obey...”
Ray’s eyes fluttered.
“Go ahead...
“Let your eyes close...
“So hard to keep them open...
“So easy to sleep for me...
“Sleep for Shelle...
“Sleep for Shelle...
“Sleep for Shelle...
“Going deeper with every word...
“Spiraling down...
“No escape...”
“Counting down from five...
“And when I reach zero...
“You’ll fall into the deepest...
“Dreamiest...
“Sleep ever...
“Five...
“Going even deeper for me...
“Four...
“You love the sound of my voice...
“Three...
“Impossible to think...
“Two...
“Feels so good...
“One...
“Almost there...
“Zero! Deep Sleep Now!” Shelle snapped her fingers three times.
Ray slumped on the sofa. Shelle smiled triumphantly. She had yet to encounter a man who could resist her hypnotic charms.
“Your mind is so open to me, so open to my words, so open to my suggestions...
“My words bending your will...
“Remaking you...
“You’re sole purpose...
“You’re only desire...
“Is to serve me...
“To serve Shelle...”
She ran a shiny nail across Ray’s chest, tracing out the shape of a heart.
“That’s right, Ray. You are deep under my hypnotic spell and dropping deeper with each word I say...
“Your unconscious and subconscious minds completely open to me and all my powerful, irresistible suggestions and commands...
“Eager to serve me, your new goddess...
“Ready to listen and obey...
“Listen and obey...
“Listen and obey...
“Listen and obey...
“Deeper...” Shelle snapped her fingers.
“Deeper...” She snapped her fingers again.
“And deeper still...” She held her hands next to his ears and snapped over and over again.
“You obey me...
“You obey Shelle...
“You obey your goddess...
“In or out of trance...
“You follow my commands immediately...
“In or out of trance...
“You follow my commands immediately...”
“Now it’s time for your final brainwashing...
“My most powerful magic, designed to...
“Weaken your will...
“Break your brain...
“Melt your mind...”
Shelle recited her spells in a sing-songy voice.
Do as I say, Do as I tell.
You are under My Obedience Spell.
Flooded with emotions: Love, Worship, Adore.
You love my control, you must have more.
My next spell is quite the phenomena.
You’re in love with your brand new Domina.
My Words so addictive, My Voice you crave.
Now and forever, you are My slave.
One last charm, The transformation complete.
Your proper place is at My Feet.
Shelle giggled again. Her enchantments were having their desired effect. A goofy grin on Ray’s face, a bulge in his pants. In just a few minutes, Shelle had transformed a bureaucrat lacking even the slightest hypno-fetish into her latest slave, a mind-controlled drone whose only purpose was to serve her.
Shelle glanced at her watch, a ten-thousand-dollar Patek Philippe, a gift from one of her many besotted admirers. Playtime was over. She had other matters to attend.
She leaned close and whispered in Ray’s ear.
“Waking you up on the count of five...
“With all my commands and suggestions burned deep into your mind...
“And when you open your eyes...
“You will be completely...
“Totally...
“Madly...
“In love with your beautiful...
“Powerful...
“Perfect...
“Domina...
“One...
“First going a bit deeper...
“Two...
“All my suggestions and commands...
“Burned into your brain...
“Three...
“Eyes fluttering open...
“Four...
“Almost there...
“Five...
“Wide awake!” Shelle snapped her fingers and Ray’s eyes fluttered open.
“How are you feeling, slave?”
While Ray gazed at Shelle, his eyes filling with unmistakable love and adoration, his body convulsed.
Shelle giggled. “Excellent. My words are having the intended effect.” She looked at Ray and pressed her lips into a pout. “Are you really worthy of sitting next to me?”
A look of horror crossed Ray’s face as he scrambled off the sofa, taking up a position at Shelle’s feet. He bowed his head, only the tips of her black boots visible. One of her feet rocking back and forth.
She said, “Feels so good to kneel before me, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Shelle.”
Shelle brought the heel of her boot down hard on the back of his hand.
“That’s Domina, Mistress, or Goddess Shelle,” she said sternly.
Through gritted teeth, Ray said, “Thank you for correcting me, Domina Shelle.”
“That’s better. Now tell me, slave, how do you intend to serve me?”
“I’ll do whatever you command, Domina Shelle.”
Shelle sighed. That was the problem with mind-numbed drones: No imagination or initiative. She had to do all the thinking for them.
“I suppose I’ll begin with the contents of your wallet,” Shelle said.
“My wallet?” A bit of alarm in Ray’s voice.
“Are you disobeying me, slave?” Shelle said sharply.
The most awful feeling flooded Ray’s body. Like the flu, but ten times worse. “No, Domina Shelle,” he said in a shaky voice. He removed his wallet from his jacket pocket and offered it to Shelle. The unpleasant feelings vanished, replaced with the euphoria of being controlled by Shelle.
“Let’s see.” Shelle rifled through the wallet. “Cash, Visa, American Express. This will all do nicely.” She dropped the empty wallet on the floor. “How does that make you feel?”
Ray’s insides twisted. Shelle had forced him to hand over his hard-earned money. Who knew what she’d do with his credit cards? But deep down it felt good, felt right, for him to give these things to her. “It feels good to be used be you.”
“Yes.” Shelle giggled. “You like being used by me. You want to be used by me. You craved to be used by me.” She gathered up the cash and credit cards and thrust them into her Hermes handbag, another gift from an enthralled admirer. “You first offering was satisfactory. But prepare to do better next time.”
“Next time?” The words caught in Ray’s throat.
“Of course,” Shelle said. “As my slave, you’ll return once a week and tribute me. Now what’s this all about a re-assessment and businesses licenses? I do not wish to be bothered with such plebeian concerns.”
“You won’t be,” Ray said. “I swear it. I’ll report back this place is still undeveloped. I’ll fix or fake any necessary records. No one will bother you, Domina Shelle.” Ray meant every word. He’d risk losing his job, multiple felonies, anything to please Shelle. That’s all he cared about.
“Your service for today is over.” Shelle waved her hand dismissively. “You may depart.”
“Yes, Domina Shelle.” Ray slowly stood. He continued to face toward her, head bowed, and backed out the door.
Shelle smiled to herself triumphantly. Another slave in her stable.
“Excuse me, Mistress.” The butler stood in the doorway.
“Yes, slave.” Shelle looked up from inspecting her nails. “What is it?”
“There’s a man at the door who wants to speak with someone in charge. He says he’s an inspector with OSHA.”
“Really?” Shelle’s lips twisted into a grin and her imagination ran wild. “Don’t dawdle, show my new slave in.”