Ben Owen
Copyright© 2025 by Ayra Atkinson
Chapter 37
Western Sex Story: Chapter 37 - 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 next day were a whirlwind of training and preparation. Mrs. Freeman pushed them to their limits, teaching them not just the moves but the mindset of a winner. Every punch thrown, every hold broken, was a declaration of war against the forces that sought to control them. They learned to read their opponents, to anticipate their moves, to bide their time, and to strike when the moment was right. It was a dance of deception, a ballet of brute strength, and they were the prima ballerinas of the next midnight spectacle.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with a bloody hue, Mr. Skinner sauntered into the tent, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Tonight’s the night, ladies,” he announced, his voice dripping with greed. “You’re going to face off against the best the circus has to offer. Make it good, and you’ll be rewarded. Make it bad, and well...” He let the threat hang in the air, his smile never wavering.
Mrs. Freeman stepped forward, her arms folded over her ample chest. “Don’t you worry about them, Mr. Skinner,” she said, her voice steady and confident. “They’re quick learners, and they’ve been practicing day and night.” She cast a proud look at Beulah and Lois, who were stretching out their muscles, their skin gleaming with the effort of their training. “They’re more than ready to entertain your ... discerning patrons.”
The implication was clear: they weren’t just there to put on a show; they were there to win, to prove themselves. And in doing so, they would get closer to the heart of the mysterious operation that had a chokehold on Lawless Ridge.
The air grew thick with excitement as the hour approached midnight. The circus was a cacophony of sounds—laughing children, barking animals, the distant twang of a guitar, and the murmur of anticipation from the adults who had come to seek a darker form of entertainment. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy mingled with the heavier scents of whiskey and cigars, a heady cocktail that seemed to heighten the tension in the air.
Mr. Larson Skinner, the ringmaster, emerged from the shadows, his tall, lanky frame draped in a tuxedo that looked like it had been tailored by a madman in a hurry. Atop his greasy hair sat a high top hat, a silent declaration of his status and his penchant for the dramatic. His eyes gleamed with a malicious excitement as he took in the crowd, a sea of eager faces waiting to be entertained by whatever depravity he had planned for the night.
He climbed onto the makeshift stage, his hands gripping the edge of the podium tightly. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, his voice booming through the tent, “Welcome to the most exhilarating event Lawless Ridge has ever seen!” The crowd roared, a mix of anticipation and fear, as the flaming torches cast flickering shadows across his face, revealing the greed and hunger in his expression. “Tonight, we have a special treat for you all!”
With a dramatic flourish, Mr. Skinner removed his top hat, revealing a head of slicked-back hair. His eyes scanned the crowd, a sly grin playing on his lips. “Our very own Beulah and Lois will be treating us to an unforgettable performance, a nude oil wrestling match like no other!” The audience gasped, a thrill of excitement rippling through them.
The flaps of the dressing room tent parted, and through the door curtains emerged two figures, each draped in nothing but a small towel that barely covered their most intimate areas. The towels clung to their glistening skin, leaving little to the imagination. The crowd’s murmurs grew louder as they recognized the newcomers to the circus. Beulah and Lois stepped into the ring, their eyes focused and determined. Despite their scant attire, they were ready for the challenge ahead.
Mr. Skinner’s smile grew wider as he announced their opponents for the night. “And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the infamous Mrs. Lulu ‘The Eel’ Bennett and Mrs. Sara ‘The Slippery’ Farmer!” The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles, their excitement palpable as the two women slithered into the ring, their bodies moving with an unsettling grace that belied their reputations. Mrs. Bennett was a curvaceous brunette with a sinuous grace, while Mrs. Farmer had a lean, almost predatory look to her, her blonde hair tied back in a tight bun.
The four women throw their towels and faced each other, the tension in the air thick as molasses. Beulah and Lois knew that they had to win not just for the gold but for the safety of the town and the future of the Blossom. They had seen the darkness that lurked beneath the circus’s glittering facade, and they knew that failure meant more than just defeat in the ring.
“Alright, folks!” Mr. Skinner’s voice boomed over the crowd. “It’s time to place your bets!” The audience roared, eager to gamble on the outcome of the titillating spectacle. He waved his hands in the air, the flaming torches casting eerie shadows on his face. “You know the rules—no interference, no weapons allowed in the ring, and may the best ... or should I say, the sliest ... win!”
The crowd’s anticipation grew as the bets were called out, their eyes feasting on the four nearly naked women. The atmosphere was electric, a potent mix of lust and greed that charged the air. Beulah and Lois locked eyes, their silent promise of unity a stark contrast to the depravity surrounding them. They knew their performance had to be flawless, not just to satisfy the onlookers but to win the trust of Mr. Skinner and get closer to the truth.
The bell rang, and the match began. The crowd’s excitement reached a fever pitch as the four women circled each other, their bodies glistening with oil. Mrs. Bennett and Mrs. Farmer moved with a practiced ease, their movements sensual and mesmerizing, but beneath the surface, there was a deadly intent. Beulah and Lois had to be more than entertainers; they had to be warriors, using their newfound skills to outmaneuver and outwit their opponents.
The first few minutes of the match were a blur of limbs and bodies, slipping and sliding across the mat. The oil made every grip slippery, every hold tenuous. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear that Mrs. Bennett and Mrs. Farmer were more than just skilled performers—they were vicious fighters, each with a ruthless streak a mile wide. They targeted Beulah and Lois with a ferocity that sent a chill down their spines, their eyes glinting with malicious intent.
Mrs. Bennett lunged at Beulah, her body coiled like a snake ready to strike. Beulah saw the move coming and managed to sidestep, but Mrs. Bennett was too quick. She wrapped her legs around Beulah’s waist, pulling her down into a tight headlock. The crowd roared, their excitement feeding the flames of the match. Beulah’s mind raced, recalling Mrs. Freeman’s words. She had to be cunning, had to find a way to turn the tables.
With a twist of her body, Beulah managed to flip Mrs. Bennett over, reversing the hold. The crowd’s cheers grew louder as Beulah locked in the full nelson she had learned so well. Mrs. Bennett’s face grew red with the effort to break free, but Beulah’s grip was like iron. Lois watched from the sidelines, her heart racing, as Mrs. Farmer approached, her eyes narrowed and her intent clear—she wasn’t going to let this newcomer steal the spotlight without a fight.
Lois took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Mrs. Farmer. This was it, the moment she had been preparing for. She knew she had to act fast, to use every ounce of the training Mrs. Freeman had given her. As Mrs. Farmer reached for her, Lois ducked and spun, wrapping her legs around the woman’s neck in a surprise move. The crowd gasped as Mrs. Farmer stumbled backward, her grip on Beulah faltering.
The match grew more intense, the women’s bodies tangling and untangling in a dance of strength and strategy. Every move was calculated, every grip a silent promise of victory. Beulah and Lois had to be more than just entertainment; they had to be a force to be reckoned with, a duo that could not only survive but thrive in the treacherous world of Lawless Ridge.
As the night wore on, the oil grew slicker, the air thicker with the scent of sweat and desire. The crowd’s excitement grew into a frenzy, their cheers and catcalls echoing through the tent. But amidst the chaos, Beulah and Lois remained focused, their eyes never leaving their opponents, their muscles taut with the anticipation of the next move.
And then, in a moment of pure instinct, Lois reached out and grabbed Mrs. Farmer’s arm, twisting it behind her back in a crab hold. Mrs. Farmer’s eyes widened in surprise, and Beulah took advantage of the distraction, flipping Mrs. Bennett over and securing her in a painful grapevine. The crowd erupted in cheers as the two women held their opponents in a show of dominance.
Mrs. Freeman watched from the sidelines, her eyes gleaming with pride. She had seen the potential in Beulah and Lois, the fiery determination that burned in their hearts, and she knew that they were more than just a pair of pretty faces to be used and discarded by the likes of Mr. Skinner. They were survivors, fighters, and now, they were proving it to the entire town.
Mr. Skinner’s smile grew tight as he realized the tide was turning. He had underestimated the newcomers, but he was not about to let them ruin his operation. He leaned over to whisper something to one of his henchmen, his eyes never leaving the ring. Beulah and Lois could feel the change in the air, the tension ramping up as the crowd grew more and more restless.
With a sudden burst of strength, Mrs. Bennett managed to break free from Beulah’s grapevine, sending the smaller woman tumbling to the mat. The crowd jeered, their excitement for the underdogs turning to bloodlust as they watched the newcomers struggle. But Beulah was not about to give up. She rolled onto her stomach, her arms and legs moving in a blur as she executed a series of reversals that left Mrs. Bennett gasping for breath.
Lois, meanwhile, had managed to get Mrs. Farmer into a headlock, her strong arms cutting off the woman’s air supply. Mrs. Farmer’s face grew red, her eyes bulging as she clawed at Lois’s arms, desperate to break free. But Lois had learned from Mrs. Freeman’s tutelage; she tightened her grip, her eyes locked onto Mrs. Farmer’s, her own filled with a fierce resolve that spoke volumes.
The crowd watched in awe as the match continued, the four women’s bodies a tapestry of power and grace. Every grunt, every slap of skin on skin, every bead of sweat that fell to the mat echoed through the tent, a symphony of strength and strategy. And as the night grew darker, the stakes grew higher.
Mr. Skinner’s face grew more and more furious as the crowd’s cheers grew louder for Beulah and Lois. He knew that he had to act fast before his golden goose slipped through his fingers. He signaled to his men, their faces grim as they moved closer to the ring, ready to intervene should the need arise.
But Beulah and Lois were not to be underestimated. They had come to Lawless Ridge with nothing but the clothes on their backs and a burning desire for justice. They had survived the horrors of the town’s underbelly and had been forged in the fires of the Blossom’s rebirth. They were not about to let a couple of seasoned circus fighters stand in their way.
The match reached its climax as Beulah and Lois managed to pin their opponents simultaneously, their bodies heaving with the effort. The crowd erupted into a cacophony of cheers and applause, their appreciation for the performance clear. Mr. Skinner’s face was a mask of rage, his fists clenched at his sides. But he knew better than to cross the line in front of such a rapt audience.
For now, the circus had been tamed, but the true battle was just beginning. As Beulah and Lois climbed out of the ring, their bodies bruised but their spirits unbroken, they knew that the midnight spectacle was just the opening act in a much larger play. They had earned their place in the town’s heart, but the gold was still out there, waiting to be claimed, and the shadows of Lawless Ridge held secrets that could bring the whole operation crumbling down.
In the makeshift dressing room, Mrs. Freeman waited for them, a proud smile on her face. She was a woman who had seen more than her fair share of battles, both in and out of the ring, and she knew that the fight they had just won was more than just entertainment—it was a declaration of war. “That was the best damn match I’ve seen in years,” she said, her voice gruff but filled with admiration. “You two are natural-born warriors.”
Beulah and Lois, their bodies aching and slick with oil, embraced each other tightly. They had done it; they had not only survived the midnight spectacle but had also earned the respect of the town. The cheers still echoed in their ears, a sweet symphony of victory that filled their hearts with hope. “Thank you, Mrs. Freeman,” Beulah panted. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”
Mrs. Freeman clapped them both on the back, her eyes gleaming with something that might have been pride. “You’ve got the skills,” she said gruffly. “But now the real work begins. You’ve got to keep your wits about you, especially now that Skinner’s got his eye on you.”
Lois nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “We know,” she said. “We won’t let you down.”
As dawn broke over Lawless Ridge, the exhausted town slowly began to stir. The circus tent, however, remained eerily quiet, the only sounds the distant cries of the animals and the occasional snore from the performers who had gone to bed after the night’s festivities. Beulah and Lois, still feeling the adrenaline from their victory, lay on their cots in the caravan, their bodies bruised and sore.
The sudden creak of the canvas flap had them both sitting up with a start. Mr. Skinner’s shadow fell over them, his tall silhouette backlit by the early morning sun. His smile was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating look that sent a shiver down their spines. “Good morning, my dears,” he drawled, his voice thick with something other than sleep. “You’ve certainly earned your keep.”
He tossed a small sack of gold coins onto the wooden floor between them, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent space. The gold glinted in the light, a tangible reward for their performance, but it felt tainted by the hands that had given it to them. Beulah and Lois stared at it, their expressions a mix of relief and revulsion. They had done what they had to do, but at what cost?
Mr. Skinner leaned against the caravan tent, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’ve earned your pay, and then some,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “But remember, this is just the beginning. You’re part of the show now, and I expect you to perform every weekend night, just as you did last night.” His eyes raked over their bruised and exhausted forms, a sneer playing on his lips.
Beulah and Lois exchanged a look, the gravity of their situation sinking in. They had survived the midnight spectacle, but it had come at a cost. They had become a commodity in Mr. Skinner’s eyes, valuable only for the entertainment they could provide. But they knew that they had to play along, at least for now. “Thank you, Mr. Skinner,” Beulah forced out, her voice tight with anger. “We’ll be ready for whatever you have planned.”
Mr. Skinner’s smile grew wider as he leaned down to pick up the sack of gold. “Good,” he said, his eyes glinting maliciously. “Because I expect nothing less from my little treasures.” He slipped the bag into his pocket and straightened up, his tall frame looming over them. “You’re to keep training, every day. I want you both to be in tip-top shape for the next show.” His words hung in the air like a noose, a constant reminder of their enslavement to the circus’s depraved entertainment.
But Beulah and Lois had other plans. Under Mrs. Freeman’s watchful eye, they continued their training, not just to survive the next match but to infiltrate deeper into Mr. Skinner’s operation. In that day, they pushed themselves harder, the sound of their fists hitting the makeshift punching bag and their feet thudding against the dirt floor of the tent a testament to their determination. Mrs. Freeman, her face etched with a fierce resolve, coached them with a mix of combat techniques and survival instincts, her voice a constant drill sergeant’s bark that kept them focused and sharp.
As the night has grown darker, casting long shadows across the circus grounds, the circus closed their gate. In the quiet corner where the caravans of the performers were parked, there was a different kind of tension in the air. The two women, their bodies still slick with sweat from their training, lay on their cots, staring up at the canvas ceiling. The gold coins from their victory weighed heavily on their minds, a symbol of the price they had paid for their newfound fame.
“Lois,” Beulah spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper, “I know this isn’t what we signed up for.” Her eyes flicked over to her friend, who lay on the adjacent cot, her own thoughts a tumultuous storm. “But the training Mrs. Freeman’s been giving us, it’s not just for the ring.”
Lois turned her head, her gaze meeting Beulah’s in the dim light. “What do you mean?” she asked, curiosity mixing with a hint of hope.
“We’re not just performers anymore,” Beulah said, her voice firm with conviction. “We’re the law now, and that means facing down outlaws who think they can do whatever they want in this town.” She sat up, wincing at the ache in her muscles. “Those wrestling moves, they’re not just for show. They’re for real fights, the kind we might have to face outside the ring.”
Lois sat up as well, her eyes meeting Beulah’s. “You’re right,” she said, her voice filled with a newfound determination. “I don’t ever want to go back to being a whore at the Blossom again. I want to stay here, help clean up this town, and maybe even find something more for myself.”
Beulah reached out and took Lois’s hand, their grip firm and reassuring. “As long as you’re beside me, I can face anything,” she said, her voice steady and strong. “We’re not just performers anymore. We’re the law in this town, and nobody’s going to push us around.”
Lois nodded, a fierce light in her eyes. “You’re right,” she said, her voice firm. “We’re not going to let anyone use us like that again.”
While lay down on the caravan bed, they hugged tightly, the bond between them stronger than ever. “We’re in this together,” Lois murmured into Beulah’s ear. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it as a team.”
Beulah pulled back slightly, her eyes searching Lois’s. In that moment, the camaraderie between them grew into something more profound. They had survived so much together, and the trust they had built was unshakeable. Without a word, Beulah leaned in and pressed her lips to Lois’s, their bruised and sweaty bodies momentarily forgotten in the warmth of their embrace. The kiss was tender, filled with the promise of a future beyond the confines of the circus, beyond the shackles of their past.
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