“You’re going to have sex with us”: The three giant women of the farm
An unexpected beginning
Bon Wigmore arrived at the farm believing it was the start of a new life. He had bought the property with all his savings, convinced it would be the perfect place to start over, far from the complications of his old life in the village. However, when he opened the cabin door, what he found left him speechless.
Three towering women stood on the porch, watching him with an intensity that made him feel like a mouse before three lionesses. They were tall, imposing, with muscles that spoke of years of hard work in the fields. The leader, a woman with dark hair and ice-blue eyes, stepped forward, a smile that didn’t quite reach her cold gaze.
“He must be the new owner,” he said in a firm voice, used to giving orders.
The other two women, a redhead with broad shoulders and a brunette with a piercing gaze, positioned themselves on either side of him, forming a barrier that seemed impossible to break through. Bon swallowed, feeling as if the weight of their stares was enough to crush him.
“Ladies, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Bon said, trying to remain calm as he held the property deed in his hand. “This is my farm. I have the legal documents right here.”
The leader let out a short, ironic laugh.
—We know who you are, Bon. We were waiting for you.
The way she pronounced his name made him shudder. How did they know who he was? The seller had assured him the transaction was private, that no one else knew about the purchase.
—We’ve been living here for a long time —the redhead interjected in a deep voice—. Taking care of the land, keeping it alive.
Bon felt his stomach clench. There was something in the tone of her words that unsettled him, as if she were entering territory he didn’t quite understand.
The revelation
“The previous owner made certain arrangements with us before he left,” the brunette added. Her voice was deep, almost threatening. “Arrangements that don’t disappear just because you have a piece of paper.”
Bon felt the weight of his words like a rock on his chest. He had traveled for three days to reach that remote farm, dreaming of a quiet life, but now he was facing a situation he hadn’t anticipated. The seller, Marcus Bance, had been overly eager to close the deal, almost suspiciously so. Had he fallen into some kind of trap?
“What kind of arrangements?” Bon asked, though part of him dreaded the answer.
The leader took another step closer, her smile now more dangerous than friendly.
—Arrangements of the kind that involve you staying here with us. Permanently.
There was a tense pause before he dropped the bombshell that would change everything.
—You’re going to have sex with us, Bon. All three of us. That’s how it works.
The words hit him like a punch. It wasn’t seduction, it was an order, a threat disguised as a proposal. Bon felt his hand instinctively move toward the rifle he carried on his horse, but he stopped. What exactly had he gotten himself into? And why did he have the feeling that this writing wasn’t even worth the paper it was printed on?
“This isn’t a game, Bon,” the leader continued, her tone now colder. “Marcus promised us that the next owner would honor his commitments. That’s you.”
The decision
Bon swallowed, trying to maintain his composure.
“I don’t know what kind of game they’re playing,” he said, trying to sound firm, “but I paid good money for this land and I don’t intend to leave.”
The leader looked at him with a mixture of respect and challenge.
—Then you’d better learn how things work around here. Because this farm isn’t just land and a cabin. It’s our life. And now it’s yours too.
Bon knew he was trapped. He could confront them, risking turning the situation into an open conflict, or he could try to understand what they expected of him. Finally, he spoke in a low but firm voice.
“I’m not Marcus. I’m not a con artist. I came here looking for a fresh start. Maybe we can find a way to make this work.”
The three women exchanged glances, a silent language that seemed older than any contract. The leader was the first to respond, with a half-smile.
—So, Bon, welcome to the real purchase you just made.
The work begins
The next dawn brought a different atmosphere. Bon got up early, his body aching from sleeping on a makeshift cot, but his mind clear. If he had agreed to stay, he had to prove he was willing to work. The land around the cabin was overgrown with weeds, and the corral fence was barely standing. The place needed much more than goodwill; it needed sweat, patience, and someone who wouldn’t run away at the first sign of trouble.
While sharpening an old hoe found in the shed, the leader appeared with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand.
—So you decided to stay—he said, observing him with a neutral expression.
“I said I’d try to make it work,” he replied, accepting the cup. “I didn’t promise it would be easy.”
The leader studied him as if evaluating each word for deception. Finally, she nodded.
—Words are cheap, Bon. What matters is what you do when the sun is high and weariness weighs more than hope.
The rest of the day was a mix of hard work and tense silences. Bon pulled up dead roots, erected new posts for the corral, and helped the redhead prepare the soil. Every now and then, he felt the leader’s eyes fixed on him, analyzing his every move as if waiting to find the moment he would slip up.
As evening fell, sweaty and exhausted, Bon collapsed on the front step. The brunette sat beside him, calmly cleaning the rifle.
“You didn’t do badly for a city man,” he commented.
Bon smiled wearily, but contentedly.
—I’m not a city man. Just someone who has nowhere left to go back to.
For a moment, the brunette stopped cleaning the gun and looked him straight in the eye. There was a flicker of understanding in her eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the loneliness they shared.
A new beginning
The following days were a test of endurance, not only physical but also emotional. Bon worked the land until his hands bled and learned to repair what time had worn away. The sisters watched in silence, sometimes incredulous, other times with a spark of growing respect.
Elena, the leader, constantly tested him. Ruth, the warrior, trained him with weapons. Magdalene, the redhead, taught him how to plant crops and care for animals. Little by little, Bon began to earn his place on the farm.
One night, as the fire illuminated everyone’s faces in the cabin, Bon realized that his inheritance was not just a dilapidated farm, but the opportunity to build a new home with those women who, against all odds, were beginning to trust him.
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