Ben Owen
Copyright© 2025 by Ayra Atkinson
Chapter 18
Western Sex Story: Chapter 18 - Ben Owen, a quiet drifter with a haunted past, finds himself entangled in a frontier town divided by greed, vengeance, and lawlessness. When a ruthless land baron threatens everything he values, Ben must choose between walking away or taking a stand. In a world where justice is scarce and loyalty comes at a price, his fight for redemption may cost him everything.
Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual NonConsensual Romantic Slavery Lesbian Fiction Crime Rags To Riches Western Cuckold Sharing Slut Wife Anal Sex Violence AI Generated
The sun beat down on them, turning the desert into a sea of shimmering heat that danced before their eyes. Beulah and Lois ridding their horses, their expressions a mix of excitement and fear. They had seen what the gold could do, had felt the power it brought. It was a heady cocktail that made their heads spin.
Goldie’s hand tightened around the reins, her eyes scanning the horizon. They had been traveling since dawn, the gold hidden beneath a pile of dusty blankets. With every bump in the road, she felt it beneath her, a constant reminder of their newfound wealth and the danger that came with it. They were sitting ducks, a tempting prize for any bandit with a gun and a greedy heart.
Ben knew the risks better than anyone. His small stature had always made him an easy target, and now, with the gold, he was more vulnerable than ever. Yet, as he sat beside Goldie, his hand resting protectively on her thigh, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride. He had come so far from the days when he had to scrap and claw for every scrap of dignity. Now, he had a plan, a purpose, and a group of fiercely loyal women by his side.
As the first light of dawn painted the sky a fiery red, the silhouette of Lawless Ridge appeared on the horizon. The town looked like a mirage, a bastion of corruption in a desert of despair. Ben’s heart raced as they approached the outskirts, his eyes scanning the dusty streets for any signs of trouble. The gold had to be kept hidden, their mission a secret until the time was right.
They pulled up to The Blossom, the wooden structure looking more like a fortress than a brothel. The early morning light cast long shadows across the boardwalk, and for a moment, Ben allowed himself to hope that their arrival would go unnoticed. But as they stepped down from the wagon, the door swung open, and three figures emerged.
Rhoda, Allie, and Henrietta stood there, their faces a mix of shock and relief. Rhoda was the first to speak, her voice thick with emotion. “Ben, Goldie, you’re back!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace them.
Allie and Henrietta followed suit, their arms wrapping around the couple in a group hug that was both warm and protective. “We’ve been worried,” Allie murmured, her eyes searching their faces for any signs of trouble.
Ben pulled away, his gaze flickering to the gold beneath the wagon. “We need to get this inside,” he said gruffly. “Sly’s been watching over the place, hasn’t he?”
Rhoda nodded, her eyes wide with excitement. “Every night,” she whispered. “He’s been like a shadow, making sure no one bothers us.”
Allie stepped forward, a hint of urgency in her voice. “But Sly sent word, Ben,” she said, her eyes flicking to the gold. “He needs to see you. Now.”
Ben’s brow furrowed. “What’s the rush?” he asked, his hand tightening on the Lady Luck’s reins. “We’ve got the gold. We’re home free.”
“It’s not that,” Allie said, her voice low and urgent. “He says you’ve got to come meet someone who can help you.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced at Goldie. “Who is it?”
Allie looked at them both with a serious expression. “He said it’s about the mission, and it’s important. You need to come with the gold now.”
With a nod, Ben turned to his makeshift family. “You three get some rest,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ll go see what Sly’s got for us.”
Goldie gave him a knowing look, the same look that had sent a shiver down his spine every time she’d whispered sweet nothings in his ear during their passionate moments. “Be careful, honey,” she said, her hand lingering on his arm. “You know what’s at stake.”
Ben nodded, his jaw set. “Always, sweetheart,” he murmured, before turning to the wagon. With a grunt, he hefted the heavy sack of gold into his arms, the weight of it seeming to amplify the gravity of their situation. The gold was more than just a means to an end; it was the lifeblood of their rebellion, the currency of their hope.
Goldie watched him go, her heart in her throat. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with anticipation and fear. As the door to The Blossom closed behind him, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anxiety. They had come so far, but the battle was far from over.
The journey to Sly’s ranch was a short one, the sun still low in the sky. Ben walked with purpose, the sack of gold heavy in his arms. His mind raced with questions about the mysterious visitor. Who could be so important that they needed to see the gold in person? The town was still sleeping, but Ben knew that in Lawless Ridge, danger lurked around every corner, even in the early hours of the morning.
As he approached the ranch, the three horses he had borrowed snorted nervously, sensing the tension in the air. Sly’s place was a stark contrast to The Blossom, a sprawling estate with a high fence that kept the desert’s harshness at bay. Ben knocked firmly on the heavy wooden gate, the sound echoing through the stillness. After a moment, it creaked open, revealing Sly’s smile.
“Welcome back, Ben,” Sly drawled, his eyes flicking to the sack of gold. “Looks like you had a successful trip.”
Ben nodded curtly, his eyes scanning the compound. Two of Sly’s men stepped forward, reaching for the reins of the horses. “Take ‘em to the stable,” Sly instructed, his voice tight with tension. “They’ve earned their rest.”
Once inside, Sly led Ben to a dimly lit room that smelled faintly of cigar smoke and whiskey. A large mahogany desk dominated the space, with a single chair behind it and two in front. On the desk lay a pile of bills, the spoils from The Blossom’s successful nights. “This is yours,” Sly said, gesturing to the money. “Your money of the earnings.”
Ben’s eyes widened, and he take the money on the desk with a heavy thud. “But who is this person you want me to meet?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
Sly leaned back in his chair, his smile growing even wider. “Ah, Ben,” he said, “you’re always so eager. Patience, my friend. But since you’re here, I suppose I can introduce you.” He clapped his hands together, and almost immediately, the door to the room swung open. Three burly men entered, flanking a tall, stern-looking man in a military uniform. “This,” Sly announced, “is Sergeant Tyller.”
The man stepped forward, his hand extended. “Ben Owen,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “it’s a pleasure.”
Ben’s grip was firm as he took the sergeant’s hand, his heart racing. This was it, the moment they had been waiting for. The mission was about to begin in earnest. “Sergeant Tyller,” he replied, his voice steady despite his nerves.
The sergeant’s eyes held Ben’s, a silent understanding passing between them. “Sly’s filled me in on your situation,” Tyller began, his voice gravelly with authority. “My men and I are at your disposal. We’re ready to help you clean up this town.”
Sly leaned in, his voice a low murmur. “But first, Ben, he needs to see the gold.”
Without a word, Ben set the sack on the desk with a heavy thud, the clink nugget echoing through the room. Sly’s eyes widened with greed, but Tyller’s gaze remained unchanged, his focus unwavering. Ben untied the rough twine holding the sack closed and tipped the contents onto the polished wood. Nugget gold spilled out, glinting in the soft light, a silent testament to their successful heist.
“Impressive,” Tyller murmured, his voice thick with respect.
Sly’s eyes remained glued to the gold, his greed palpable. “Now, Ben,” he began, his tone shifting to one of false camaraderie, “you know we can’t just leave this here unguarded. We need to make sure it doesn’t decrease in value.”
Ben’s gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Sly leaned back in his chair, his smile never faltering. “Simple, Ben. The gold is too tempting a prize. We can’t have it just lying around. You’ve got to join forces with Tyller and his boys to keep it safe. They’re good at what they do, and they know how to handle ... delicate situations.”
Ben’s jaw tightened as he stared at the gold, his mind racing. He knew he couldn’t trust Sly entirely, but he needed the protection Tyller’s men could offer. “Alright,” he said, his voice measured. “But I want a guarantee from you, Tyller. You and your men will protect me from any trouble that comes our way.”
Sergeant Tyller’s gaze was as unyielding as the desert sun. “You have my word, Ben,” he said firmly. “My men and I will stand with you. We’re here to see justice served in Lawless Ridge.”
With a nod, Ben agreed. He knew he had to keep his cards close to his chest, but he also knew that he needed allies. He gathered the gold back into the sack and slung it over his shoulder, feeling the weight of his newfound responsibility.
Sly led them out of the barn house and into the coolness of the early morning air. The barn was a stark contrast to the opulence of the ranch house, its wooden walls aged by the sun and wind. Inside, the scent of horses and hay mingled with the faint aroma of manure, a comforting reminder of the world outside the town’s corruption.
As they entered, Ben’s eyes fell on the carriage parked in the center, flanked by two beautifully groomed horses. They were strong, muscular creatures, their coats gleaming with health. The carriage itself was a sleek, black affair, with gold trimming that caught the light from the crack in the barn door. It was clear that Sly had spared no expense in preparing for their journey.
Sly took a seat on a bale of hay, his expression turning serious. “Here’s the plan, Ben,” he began, his voice low and intense. “You’re going to take this carriage into town, looking like a poor gold miner who’s just struck it rich. The gold will be displayed in the back, just enough to get the sheriff’s attention.”
Ben felt a knot form in his stomach. “And then what?” he asked, already suspecting the answer.
Sly’s smile grew colder. “Then, my friend, you lead them on a little chase. Nothing too dangerous, just enough to get them out of town and rob you.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “And what happens then?”
Sly leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Then, we show them the real prize,” he said, his hand brushing against the carriage’s side. “In here.”
Ben’s eyes widened as the barn door swung open, revealing the gleaming barrel of a machine gun. It was mounted on a swivel, surrounded by a bullet scarf that glinted in the early morning light. The weapon looked as if it had seen its fair share of battles, its metal body etched with the scars of past engagements. The sight of it was both thrilling and terrifying.
Sly followed Ben’s gaze and chuckled, a cold, mirthless sound. “You like it?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s a little something I picked up in my travels. It’s got a bit of a history, you see. Every bullet in here,” he continued, gesturing to the scarf, “has a name on it. And every name on those bullets is a member of the sheriff’s gang.”
Ben felt a shiver run down his spine. This was no ordinary alliance; it was a deal with the devil himself. But he knew that sometimes, you had to dance with the devil to bring about change. He nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation.
“Alright,” Ben said, his voice steady despite his racing thoughts. “Sergeant Tyller and his men will stay hidden in the carriage. I’ll sat in front with the gold and drive it into town, acting as bait.”
Sly nodded, his smile growing wider. “Exactly,” he said, his eyes glinting with excitement. “You’ll tell the sheriff you’re looking for a way to sell the gold in Crookedhill. That should get his attention.”
Ben’s jaw clenched as he thought of the plan. It was risky, but it was the only way to draw the sheriff and his men out of town without raising suspicion. The gold had to be displayed just right, tempting enough to make them follow, but not so much that they’d think it was a trap. “And when they take the bait?” he asked, his voice tight with tension.
Sly’s smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. “That’s when Tyller and his boys have their fun,” he said, gesturing to the sergeant. “They’ve been waiting for a chance to use those machine guns of theirs. And let me tell you, Ben, they’re itching to leave their mark on this town.”
Ben took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the gold sack on his shoulders. He knew that this was the moment they had been building towards, the moment where they would take the first step in bringing down the sheriff’s regime. He looked at Sly, his expression a mix of excitement and trepidation. “Alright,” he said, “let’s do this.”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.