You Are Going to Have S3x With Us, Said the 3 Giant Women Already Living on the Farm He Bought

Boon Whitmore’s hands were cracked and raw by the time he reached the farm. Three days of hard travel had left him blistered, hungry, and ready to start fresh. The land he’d bought was supposed to be fertile and untouched — a place where he could rebuild his life, raise cattle, and put the past behind him. But as he dismounted and looked toward the farmhouse porch, his stomach twisted.

Three women stood waiting.

They weren’t what he expected. Broad-shouldered, sun-bronzed, and unflinching, they looked more like warriors than farmers. The tallest one stepped forward, her blue eyes sharp and assessing. “You must be the new owner,” she said, voice smooth but edged with something dangerous.

“That’s right,” Boon replied carefully. “Boon Whitmore. I’ve got the deed here.” He held up the rolled parchment, the legal seal gleaming in the sun.

The woman smiled — but it wasn’t friendly. “Oh, we know exactly who you are, Boon. We’ve been expecting you.”

That stopped him cold. “Expecting me?”

She nodded once. “We’ve been living here for some time. This land isn’t empty, no matter what that paper says.”

The second woman, tall and strong with a low, resonant voice, crossed her arms. “The previous owner made certain… arrangements with us before he left.”

Boon frowned. “What kind of arrangements?”

The redhead, the youngest of the three, laughed softly — not with humor, but with something darker. “The kind that don’t disappear just because a man sells what isn’t his to sell.”

Boon’s pulse kicked up. “You mean Marcus Vance?” The name felt bitter in his mouth. He’d bought the land from Marcus just two weeks ago — a deal that had seemed too easy, too quick.

The tall woman took a slow step forward until she was close enough for Boon to see the faint scar running along her jaw. “That’s the one,” she said. “He owed us something. And now that he’s gone, that debt falls to you.”

Boon tried to steady his breath. “What kind of debt are we talking about?”

Her eyes locked on his. “You’re going to stay here, Boon. With us. Permanently. You’ll work the land, share what we’ve built — and yes,” she said, voice dropping low, “you’ll have sex with us. All three of us. That’s how it works.”

For a heartbeat, the world went silent.

Boon’s hand twitched toward the rifle slung over his horse, but he didn’t draw it. He didn’t understand what he was facing yet — and his gut told him pulling that gun would only make things worse.

“This isn’t a game,” he said tightly. “I paid for this land, fair and square.”

The tall woman tilted her head, amused. “You think money means anything out here? Marcus sold you a dream, Boon. But he also sold us out. We built this place with him — every fencepost, every acre under irrigation. Then he vanished and left us holding his debts.”

The anger beneath her calm made sense now. These weren’t squatters — they were women who’d been used, abandoned, and left behind with nothing but the wreckage of someone else’s lies.

“I didn’t make those promises,” Boon said.

“No,” she admitted. “Legally, you’re probably in the clear. But we’ve got nowhere else to go. This land is all we have.”

The fight in his chest softened, replaced by something heavier. He looked at them — three women bound together by hardship, standing their ground because they had nothing left to lose.

“What do you want from me?” he asked finally.

Helena — that was the tall one’s name — exchanged a look with the other two. “A partnership,” she said. “A real one this time. We work the land together, share the profits equally, and share our lives. Marcus never gave us that chance. You could.”

Boon hesitated, his mind running through every warning he’d ever ignored. But beneath the strangeness, there was logic — and something honest. “Show me what you’ve built,” he said at last.

They did.

Ruth, the second woman, led him through the fields. The irrigation system was clever and efficient, far beyond what he’d expected. The livestock were healthy. The fences were solid. Whoever these women were, they knew how to run a ranch better than most men he’d met.

When they returned to the farmhouse, Boon found it warm and lived-in — flowers on the table, books on the shelves, the smell of bread in the air. It didn’t feel like a battleground anymore.

Over dinner, the tension eased. Helena even smiled — a real one this time. But when the plates were cleared, her tone turned serious again. “There’s something else you need to know,” she said. “Marcus didn’t just leave. He left debts — in our names. Creditors are coming.”

Boon rubbed his jaw. “How much?”

They slid a small ledger across the table. He flipped through it and did the math in his head. The numbers weren’t small, but they weren’t impossible either.

“These are manageable,” he said finally. “If we organize, pay off what’s urgent, and reinvest the profits, we can make it work.”

The relief that washed over them was instant and unguarded. For the first time, Boon saw what they really wanted — not control, not revenge, but a chance to survive.

“Alright,” he said. “But we do this properly. Written agreements. Clear responsibilities. And the rest — whatever happens between us — that develops naturally. Not as a condition.”

Helena nodded, her expression unreadable but approving. “Fair enough.”

The months that followed changed everything. Together, they turned the struggling ranch into something thriving. Boon handled the finances and trade while the women ran the operations. The profits grew, the debts shrank, and with each passing week, so did the distance between them.

Helena’s strength, Ruth’s steadiness, and Magdalene’s fierce energy filled the silence that had haunted Boon for years. What began as reluctant cooperation evolved into trust — then into something far deeper.

By winter, the land was theirs in every sense.

One evening, as they sat on the porch watching the last light fade, Helena looked at him and asked quietly, “Any regrets?”

Boon thought about it — about Marcus’s lies, the ambush on his first day, the chaos that had somehow turned into home. Then he smiled. “Only that it took his betrayal to bring us together.”

The women laughed softly, and the sound rolled out into the twilight — warm, full, alive.

Out there on the edge of the frontier, where laws were thin and people had to write their own rules, they had done just that. They built a life that didn’t fit anyone else’s mold — a life built on hard work, mutual respect, and something like love.

It wasn’t what Boon had come looking for. But it was everything he didn’t know he needed.