The Trio Rioters
Copyright© 2025 by Ayra Atkinson
Chapter 2
Western Sex Story: Chapter 2 - In the dusty frontier town of Hootyville, three inseparable boys—Nick, Erick, and Micko—dream of escape from the monotony of school, chores, and the stern rules of adults. Known around town as “The Trio Rioters” for their mischief and daring antics, the boys chase danger like moths to flame.When they stumble upon a mysterious pamphlet promising forbidden thrills at a notorious saloon, their youthful curiosity pulls them into a world far darker than they imagined.
Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual NonConsensual Romantic Slavery Lesbian Fiction Crime Rags To Riches Western Incest Mother Son Humiliation Rough Orgy Interracial Black Male White Female Anal Sex Sex Toys Cat-Fighting Prostitution Violence AI Generated
The crowd parted like the Red Sea as Lady Magill took Mrs. Elva’s arm, leading her off the stage. The woman’s legs wobbled, her dignity in tatters, but she walked with a regal grace that belied her situation. The sight of Mrs. Elva’s naked body being led away like a prize steer was almost too much for the boys to bear. Erick had come again, his hand sticky with his own juices, his eyes glazed over with a mix of excitement and horror. Nick’s face was flushed, his hand still in his pants, his arousal at the woman’s degradation a guilty secret that he knew he’d never share.
But it was Micko who couldn’t tear his eyes away. As the madam and her new acquisition disappeared into the night, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have that kind of power. If he had a sack full of gold coins, he’d buy one of those women, not to use her, but to save her. He’d show her that not all men were animals, that some still had a shred of decency left in their souls. The thought of having the ability to end her suffering, to wipe the tears from her eyes, filled him with a longing so intense it was almost painful.
The memory of his mother and aunt being sold to the landlady when he was just a boy surfaced in his mind like a mirage in the desert heat. He remembered the way his mother had looked at him, her eyes full of fear and regret, as they were led away. The landlady had promised them food and shelter, but what they’d received was a lifetime of backbreaking labor and the occasional “favors” for the men who owned the land. The memory was as vivid as the day it had happened, the feel of his mother’s hand in his, the sound of the coins changing hands, the smell of sweat and desperation.
The sight of Mrs. Elva being claimed by Lady Magill brought back the haunting image of his father being taken from him. Micko felt a rage building in his chest, a fire that threatened to consume him. He had been too young to do anything then, too weak to stand up to the men with the white hoods and the KKK symbol. But he wasn’t that boy anymore. He was a man now, and he had a choice to make. He could either continue watching the degradation of these women from the safety of the shadows, or he could do something about it.
But Micko realized that in Hootyville anything could happen, even worse, and all had to be tolerated. That’s why he chose to just enjoy everything in this city. As long as it could be his and his friends’ pleasure, then he would enjoy it.
“Which of the three do you like?” ask Nick with smile, “I Choose the second,”
“Me, too,” Erick replied.
“No, man,” Micko denies, “Third is the finest,”
“I don’t think so,” Erick denies.
“Just look at the ass, the big ass,” Micko explain, “I never seen like that before in here. Not in last week, or last month. Mrs. Walker never sell a woman like her before,”
To read this story you need a
Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In
or Register (Why register?)