Ben Owen
Copyright© 2025 by Ayra Atkinson
Chapter 20
Western Sex Story: Chapter 20 - 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 had barely crested the horizon when they arrived at the sprawling ranch, the light casting long shadows across the dusty yard. The house was a bastion of wealth in the otherwise desolate landscape, a stark reminder of the power that gold could wield. Ben’s heart raced as he climbed down from the carriage, the weight of their decision resting heavily on his shoulders.
Goldie followed, her hand tight in his, the warmth of her touch grounding him. They approached the house, the half of the gold they’d brought glinting in the early morning light. Ben felt a twinge of nerves, the weight of the gold bars like a physical presence between them. This was their ticket to freedom, to a life beyond the grime and despair of Lawless Ridge.
Mr. Steve Holmes, a man with more wrinkles than a sun-dried prune, met them at the door, his grey hair sticking out in every direction. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in Ben’s diminutive frame and Goldie’s voluptuous figure. “Can I help you folks?” he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and suspicion.
Goldie stepped forward, her chin held high. “Mr. Holmes,” she said, her voice a seductive purr. “I’m Goldie Owen, and this is my husband, Ben. We’re here to discuss a business proposition with you. We’ve heard that you’re looking to sell your land up on the hill.”
Holmes’ eyes narrowed, his curiosity piqued. “That I am,” he said, his voice gruff. “But I ain’t just selling to anyone. You got something to offer that’s worth my while?”
Ben stepped forward, his hand tightening around Goldie’s. “We’ve got gold,” he said, his voice firm. He reached into the carriage and pulled out a sack, the gold bars clinking together as he placed it on the dusty porch. “We’re willing to pay a fair price for that land.”
Holmes’ eyes grew greedy as he stared at the sack, his hand itching to reach out and touch the precious metal. “Gold, you say?” He licked his lips, his gaze flicking between Ben and Goldie. “What do you folks plan on doing with my land?”
“We’re going to build a ranch,” Ben said, his voice steady. “A place for those who need it most. A beacon of hope for our future.”
Holmes eyed them both, his expression a mix of greed and suspicion. “And what makes you think you two can handle a place like that?”
Goldie’s eyes flashed with determination. “We’ve got the gold, the guts, and the plan,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of their conviction. “Mr. Sly will guide us to build the business.”
Holmes studied them, his gaze lingering on the sack of gold. “Alright, let’s talk numbers,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “What’s your offer?”
Goldie stepped closer, her hand still entwined with Ben’s. “We’re willing to offer four pounds of gold,” she said, her voice calm and firm.
Holmes’ eyes grew shrewd, and he took a step back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He looked from the gold to Ben and back again, his mind racing. “Four pounds, you say?” He pursed his lips, considering their offer. “That’s a hefty sum for a piece of land that ain’t worth half that.”
Ben and Goldie held their breath, waiting for his response. The silence stretched taut like a bowstring, the air thick with anticipation. Finally, Holmes spoke. “Five pounds,” he said, his voice firm. “Five pounds of gold, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Ben felt a knot form in his stomach. They’d come so far, and now they were so close. He glanced at Goldie, her eyes shining with determination, and he knew they couldn’t back down now. He met Holmes’ gaze, his voice as solid as the bars in the sack. “Five pounds it is,” he said, his hand reaching for the gold.
Holmes’ smile grew sly, his eyes glinting in the early light. “But that’s not all I want,” he said, his voice a silky drawl. “I want a little something extra for my troubles.”
Ben’s heart sank, but Goldie’s grip on his hand grew stronger. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice sweet as honey but with a hint of steel beneath.
Holmes leaned against the porch railing, his eyes never leaving the gold. “Five pounds for the land,” he clarified, his gaze flicking to Goldie’s ample cleavage. “And one pound for the pleasure of doing business with such a fine looking woman.”
Goldie’s smile never wavered, her eyes gleaming with the same shrewdness that Ben had come to respect in her. “Six pounds it is,” she said, her voice like silk. “But only if you throw in the house and some livestock to get us started.”
Holmes’ expression tightened, but the glint in his eye said he knew he’d been outfoxed. “Alright, six pounds it is,” he agreed, his voice gruff. “And I’ll throw in a few head of cattle and some horses. But that’s my final offer.”
Goldie nodded, her smile never faltering. “We’ll take it,” she said, her voice a purr. Ben could feel the tension in her hand as she squeezed his, her nails digging into his palm.
Holmes’ grin grew wider, his yellowed teeth stark against his leathery skin. “Good doing business with you,” he said, his voice a wheeze. He turned and disappeared into the house, returning moments later with a heavy iron scale and a set of weights.
Ben and Goldie watched as he set the scale up on the porch, the metal groaning under the weight of their future. The first gold bar was placed onto one side, the scale dipping slightly under its heft. Holmes’ eyes remained fixed on Goldie as he carefully added weight to the other side, his gaze lingering on her curves as if he were weighing more than just gold.
The second bar was placed with a clank, the scale balancing precariously. Goldie’s heart raced as the third and fourth bars were added, the tension in the air as palpable as the metal’s weight. Each clink of the bars was a beat in the rhythm of their hope, a symphony of determination that resonated through the dusty silence of the early morning.
Holmes’ hands trembled slightly as he added the final bar, his eyes greedy and desperate. The scale held steady for a moment, the balance poised between their dreams and his greed. Then, with a sigh of relief, the needle dipped in their favor. Goldie felt Ben’s hand tighten around hers, his grip firm and reassuring.
“Seems we’ve got ourselves a deal,” Holmes said, his voice thick with avarice. He spat a wad of tobacco into the dirt, the brown juice staining the ground. “You’ve got your land, and I’ve got my gold.” He handed over the deed, the parchment feeling flimsy and insignificant compared to the weight of their newfound hope.
Goldie took the deed, her eyes never leaving Holmes’ face. “Thank you,” she said, her voice cool and measured. “We won’t disappoint.”
Holmes’ grin grew wider, his yellowed teeth stark against his leathery skin. “I’m sure you won’t,” he said, his gaze flicking to the gold bars. “You folks are welcome to stay for a bit, celebrate the deal if you’d like.”
Goldie’s smile was a knife’s edge, sharp and precise. “Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness.
Holmes held out the letter with the deed to the hilltop ranch, his eyes lingering on her chest. “I expect you’ll be moving in soon,” he said, his voice a greasy whisper. “Got to keep that gold close, after all.”
Goldie took the paper, her eyes never leaving his. “Thank you,” she said sweetly, her voice dripping with the kind of honey that could attract flies or hide a knife. “But can we know the reason why you should left this place?”
Holmes cleared his throat, his eyes shifting away from the gold. “Well, my wife,” he began, his voice a little less greedy now, “she uh, she passed away two months ago. And my daughter, she’s living up in Bareflats village now. I reckon I’ll be moving up there to be with her.”
Goldie’s expression softened slightly, the humanity in his words touching a chord within her. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, her voice genuine. “But I’m sure you’ll find happiness in Bareflats.”
Holmes nodded, his eyes misting over briefly. “Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff. “It’s time for me to leave this place behind. It’s been good to me, but it’s time to start anew.”
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