Chapter 8

The walls of the Victorian house seemed to pulse with the energy of their passion, the very air thick with the promise of revolution. Ben knew that their actions tonight would set the stage for the battles to come, that the seeds they planted in the minds of the town’s elite would soon bear fruit.

But for now, all that mattered was the feel of Goldie’s tight ass around his cock, the way her body responded to his every demand. He fucked her with a ferocity that matched the rage in his heart, his movements punctuated by the slap of skin on skin. He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure at the base of his spine growing unbearable.

With a roar, Ben came, his cum filling Goldie’s ass as she collapsed against him, her own climax shaking her to her core. They lay there, panting and sweaty, their bodies entwined in a mess of limbs and passion. The house was silent around them, the only sound their heavy breathing.

For a moment, Ben allowed himself to bask in the afterglow, his hand still tangled in Goldie’s hair. Then, with a grimace, he pushed her off and stood up, his mind already racing with the tasks that lay ahead. “Good,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Now, go clean up. We have work to do.”

Goldie nodded, her eyes glazed with pleasure and exhaustion. She knew that their time together was not just for pleasure but for strategy, for strength, for the rebellion that was slowly taking shape within the walls of ‘The Blossom’. She slipped from the bed, her body still trembling from the intensity of their encounter.

As the women cleaned themselves up, Ben began to pace the floor, his mind racing. The grand opening of the brothel had been a success, but it was only the beginning. They had to keep the façade going, had to keep the men of Lawless Ridge coming back for more.

He gathered the money on the table, the jingle of coins and rustle of bills a sweet symphony of rebellion. It was a small fortune, a testament to their newfound power. As he counted the cash, a plan began to form in his mind.

The auction. It was time to strike at the very heart of the corruption that plagued Lawless Ridge. Ben knew that the town’s elite would be there, eager to purchase more human misery. It was the perfect opportunity to expose the sheriff’s treachery and disrupt Black Jack’s operations.

He gathered the gold and cash from his five loyal women, their eyes gleaming with determination as they watched him prepare. Each dollar bill was a trophy of their victory, a symbol of the power they had reclaimed. He stuffed the wad into his satchel, feeling the weight of their collective strength.

With a nod to his crew, Ben mounted Lady Luck, the sturdy steed that had borne him through countless battles. The moon cast a silver glow over the town, the shadows playing tricks on his eyes as he made his way to the auction house. His heart hammered in his chest, the anticipation of the coming confrontation mixing with the adrenaline of his recent conquest.

The bag of gold and cash jingled with every step, a metallic symphony of rebellion that seemed to echo through the deserted streets of Lawless Ridge. The town was quiet, the usual cacophony of drunken laughter and gunfire muted by the cloak of darkness. It was as if the very air held its breath in anticipation of the storm to come.

Ben straddled Lady Luck, the trusty steed that had carried him through the dust and grime of countless battles. He felt a kinship with the horse, a bond forged in the fires of adversity. Her eyes gleamed with understanding as he tightened the reins, her muscles rippling beneath him in silent support.

The town of Lawless Ridge lay before him, a cesspool of corruption and despair. Yet, as he rode through the moonlit streets, the jingle of gold and silver in his satchel seemed to cut through the darkness, a beacon of hope amidst the squalor. Each coin was a declaration of war, a silent promise to the women he had sworn to protect.

The auction house loomed ahead, a bastion of the town’s depravity. Ben knew that within its walls, the rich and powerful would be bidding on human lives, their greed and lust blinding them to the suffering they caused. He dismounted Lady Luck, tying her securely to a post outside. He knew she would be ready when he needed her.

He approached the building with a stealth that belied his size. The guards at the door were jumpy, their eyes darting around as if expecting trouble. Ben recognized one of them, a burly man with a scar across his cheek. The guard had been one of the ones who had leered at him and his women earlier.

As Ben slipped inside, the smell of sweat and desperation hit him like a fist. The auction was in full swing, the sound of bids rising and falling like a macabre symphony. His heart raced as he scanned the room, looking for the face of the man who had recognized him at the brothel. There he was, sitting in the front row, a smug smile playing on his lips as he ogled the next ‘lots’ being brought out.

The owner, a portly man with greasy hair and a silver-toothed grin, spotted Ben and waved him over. “Ah, Mr. Owen,” he drawled, his voice thick with false cheer. “I’ve been expecting you. I heard about your ... acquisitions. Quite the haul you’ve got there.”

Ben nodded curtly, his eyes scanning the room. “The quality of the goods I’ve brought is unmatched,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ll find them quite ... profitable.”

The owner’s smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with greed. “Indeed, I’m sure they’ll fetch a fine price.”

He led Ben through a back door, the stench of fear and despair growing stronger with every step. Down a dimly lit corridor, they reached a heavy, iron-reinforced door. The owner pulled out a set of keys and unlocked it with a grating sound that seemed to echo through the very foundations of the building.

Inside, the ‘stock’ was displayed like cattle at a county fair. Men and women of all ages, their eyes downcast and spirits broken, were lined up in rows, their wrists and ankles bound with thick rope. The sight of their naked, bruised bodies was almost too much for Ben to bear, but he steeled himself. These were the pawns in the game of power and greed that had consumed Lawless Ridge.

He spotted a mother and her daughter in the corner, their eyes red-rimmed from crying. The girl couldn’t have been more than thirteen, her small body trembling with fear. Ben felt a surge of rage at the sight of their shared misery. “What’s the story with these two?” he asked the owner, his voice deceptively calm.

The man’s smile never wavered. “Ah, a family affair,” he said with a chuckle. “The mother’s a bit of a whore, if you know what I mean. Too much mouth, not enough obedience. So, I’m selling them both together. They’ll make a fine pair for some discerning buyer who enjoys a little ... family bonding.”

Ben’s jaw clenched, his hand itching to wrap around the man’s throat. “I’d like to inspect them,” he said through gritted teeth. “Make sure they’re as ‘profitable’ as you claim.”