Ben Owen
Copyright© 2025 by Ayra Atkinson
Chapter 6
Western Sex Story: Chapter 6 - 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
Once they were all dressed, Ben took them to the house, the gold coins in his pocket jingling with every step. The once-proud Victorian had undergone a transformation, the walls now gleaming with fresh paint, the furniture restored to its former glory. The plush velvet curtains had been washed and hung, the chandeliers gleaming with a new coat of polish. It was a place of beauty and elegance, a stark contrast to the dusty streets outside.
Ben handed Goldie a heavy bag of gold coins, her eyes widening in surprise as she felt the weight of it. “You’re to go to the finest restaurant in town,” he instructed. “Buy enough food to feed an army. We’re going to throw a party that Lawless Ridge will never forget.”
Goldie nodded, excitement dancing in her eyes.
“Make sure it’s the best,” Ben added, his voice firm. “We need to make a statement.”
Goldie took the bag of gold, her hand trembling slightly. “I won’t disappoint you, Ben,” she said, her voice a mix of excitement and determination.
“Good,” Ben said, his gaze intense. “The rest of you, start working on the house. We need to make sure it’s ready for our ... guests.”
The women set to work with a fervor that surprised even Ben. They cleaned, they painted, they transformed the once-dilapidated building into a beacon of opulence that gleamed with the promise of sinful delights. As they worked, Ben made his way through the town, searching for the reckless service he had heard whispers about.
The service was tucked away in an alley, the smell of ink and sawdust heavy in the air. A burly man with a thick beard looked up from his work, his eyes narrowing as Ben approached. “What can I do for you, little man?” he asked, his voice gruff.
Ben didn’t miss a beat. “I need a name plank,” he said, his voice firm. “The biggest and best you’ve got. And pamphlets. Lots of them. I’ve got a business opening up, and I want the whole town to know about it.”
The man looked him up and down, his gaze lingering on the bag of gold at Ben’s side. “What kind of business?”
“The kind of business that’ll make Lawless Ridge sit up and take notice,” Ben replied, a wicked grin playing on his lips. He pulled out a gold coin, the metal glinting in the dim light of the alley. The burly man’s eyes followed the coin as Ben flipped it through the air. “The best whorehouse this side of the Lawless Ridge, and I want everyone to know it.”
The burly man’s gaze flickered from the coin to Ben’s face, then back to the coin. He spat a wad of tobacco juice onto the dirt floor. “You got a name for this ... establishment?”
Ben nodded, his grin widening. “The Blossom,” he said, savoring the sound of it. “It’ll be a place where even the most jaded souls can find a little beauty amidst the dust and despair.”
The burly man took the gold coin, biting it to confirm its authenticity. “Alright, you got yourself a deal,” he said, his voice a mix of skepticism and greed. “I’ll have your sign and pamphlets ready by sunset.”
Ben nodded curtly and walked away, the sound of his boots echoing down the alleyway. His mind was racing with the final details of his plan. He knew that to truly make The Blossom the talk of the town, he’d need to cater to the most decadent of tastes. He headed to the town’s only apothecary, a cramped, dimly lit space that smelled of herbs and tonic.
The owner, a wizened old woman named Granny Hazel, peered at him over her spectacles as he entered. “What’s a man like you need with the likes of what I sell?” she cackled, her voice as brittle as the parchment her potions were scribbled on.
Ben ignored her sneer, his eyes scanning the shelves stocked with jars of ointments and bottles of elixirs. “I need the finest cosmetics and women’s body care,” he said, his voice firm. “I’m opening a high-class establishment, and I want everything to be just right.”
Granny Hazel’s eyes lit up at the mention of ‘high-class’ and ‘right’. She knew what kind of business Ben was in, and she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to make a hefty profit. She led him to the back of the store, where she kept her most expensive and exotic products.
The shelves were lined with jars of scented creams and oils, their labels promising to smooth and soften the skin. There were bottles of perfumes that could make a man’s head spin with their allure, and pots of rouge that could make even the palest cheeks bloom with passion. Ben picked through the selection, his hands lingering on the most tempting items. He chose a variety of products, each one designed to enhance the natural beauty of the women who would wear them.
He also picked up a few bottles of something stronger, a potent concoction that could loosen the tightest of lips and the most guarded of secrets. It was a risk, but one he was willing to take. In the world of Lawless Ridge, information was more valuable than gold, and he had a feeling that these potions would be worth their weight in it.
With his purchases in hand, Ben left the apothecary, the bell above the door chiming a tune that seemed almost sweet amidst the grime of the town. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the dusty streets. It was time to prepare for the grand opening of The Blossom, and he had no intention of letting anything stand in his way.
As he approached the alley where he’d commissioned the name plank and pamphlets, Ben could feel his heart pound in his chest. This was it, the moment of truth. The burly man was there, just as he’d promised, the freshly painted sign leaning against the wall, the letters ‘The Blossom’ etched in gold paint that gleamed in the fading light. Ben took it from him, feeling the weight of his future in his hands.
The pamphlets were a thing of beauty, the paper thick and velvety to the touch. The ink was rich and dark, the images of scantily clad women promising an evening of unbridled pleasure and decadence. Ben flipped through them, his eyes scanning the artful lies that were designed to lure in the town’s most unsavory characters. The scent of fresh ink and paper mingled with the smell of the alley, a strange yet potent cocktail that seemed to symbolize the beginnings of something new and powerful.
“You’ve done well,” Ben said, handing over a generous amount of gold coins. The man’s eyes widened at the sight of the gold, his hand trembling slightly as he took them. “Keep your mouth shut, and you’ll be well rewarded.”
The burly man nodded, his expression a mix of fear and greed. Ben knew he could count on his silence; the allure of gold was a language that everyone in Lawless Ridge understood. With the sign and pamphlets in hand, Ben headed back to the house, the excitement in his step unmistakable.
The women had transformed the place into a den of iniquity that would make even the most jaded of men weep with desire. The walls were adorned with velvet drapes, the floors with plush rugs that muffled the sound of footsteps. In the center of the main room stood a grand piano, its ivory keys gleaming in the soft candlelight. The air was thick with the scent of the apothecary’s finest perfumes and the sweet aroma of baked goods from the kitchen.
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