Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa,
Desc: Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 1 - You all know what happened when William Travis, David Crockett, and others took up in the Alamo while Santa Ana and most of the Mexicans in the world took offense. I thought it would be a little better for the Texas folk if a guy from later on went back with some modern weapons.
Basically, I was fucked, or as good as. I'd been working for Dr Thomas Tomberlane for sixteen months and yes, I was with him through most of his construction of his time machine. I'd even made some suggestions he took to heart. I was around while he was trying to figure out just how big to make the chamber he placed the subjects in. I convinced him to make adjustable fields so he could just put something in a specified area and adjust the area to be sent back in time. Anything in the area would go.
Hell, he loved the idea right away and after he started designing and figuring he said he could send his whole house back. I'd only embarrassed myself big time once when I asked him why he never sent anything forward in time.
"Because it hasn't happend yet," he explained, and laughed at me.
We did testing for months on end. He'd send something back and then we'd go dig it up. Things were always just where he thought they'd be. They'd just look older than when we sent them off. Finally he got up the nerve to send himself back. He towed an Airstream trailer with his Jeep near enough to the machine to get it all in. He set the machine up to send himself back two thousand and fifteen years and to set him down near the outskirts of Rome. He showed me exactly how to work the business end so I could get him on his way. He also showed me a large box type arrangement and all it had on it was one big red button.
'Take the other one like this with you Jack, and don't lose it. If you want to come back just press the Red button and it will bring everything you left with back to the place you started from as long as it is reasonably close. It will also bring anything within a twenty foot sphere of itself. Don't worry about it bringing half a person or anything like that. If most of the person is within twenty feet they will come along, if most of them ain't they won't. It won't bring back dirt or anything like that or rocks either, unless you're holding them or some such." he said.
"I'm showing you how to work this thing, Jack, because I know sooner or later you'll want to take off on your own trip. I don't give a shit about that since I'll be gone anyway," he told me, just before he left.
He was right about that. I damned sure wanted to move back into the past, but not nearly as far back as he wanted to go. I wasn't goiing as far as he went either. Neither in actual distance or time.
Hell, I was close enough, distance wise, akready. I just needed to gather a few essentials before I left. I already had a few things gathered up and with just a few more I'd be ready to scoot.
I'd already latched onto a dozen Marlin 336Cs in 35 Remington and I'd laid in twenty thousand rounds for them plus a hundred pounds of powder and a hundred thousand bullets and primers. For my personal use I'd bought a Barret M82A1 and an ATN 3 to 9 power day/night scope and ten thousand rounds. I also had a good reloading press, dies for the fifty caliber brasses plus the 35 Remmington along with twenty thousand bullets and primers and a hundred pounds of a good powder for the large brasses. I was set up for at least one good battle. It was all already packed in my connestoga wagon. I'd also bought three good quarter horse mares and a great stallion.
The quarter horses weren't the best for pulling a wagon since they didn't have good working shoulders, but they'd do, or at least I kept telling myself they would until I sniffed out a good deal on four good Missouri Mules. I couldn't resist buying them and taking them along
On the day I decided to make my escape I loaded all my camping gear and all my firearms and reloading supplies into the wagon, had the team pull it into range and tied the quarter horses onto the back. Then I set the machine to send me and mine to Feburary 11, 1836. My intended final target was The Alamo of course, but since I was already in San Marcos in the here and now I figured if I didn't move any closer I could still get in place in in plenty of time for the actual start of hostilities on the 23rd.
I dressed in my best estimation of clothes that would look normal to the time and of course I dragged on a pair of Cowboy boots. Since I didn't have anyone to send me off I set the delayed timer for five minutes and parked my ass in the wagon's driving seat.
Five and a half minutes later, after the blurry vista resolved things around me sure changed. I was out in the sticks big time now and I had to make my best guess at which way to head to look for any sign of a road. I took five minutes to strap on my double holster gunbelt with a couple of Ruger 44 magnum SuperBlackhawk revolvers of the 6 inch barrel persuasion and I also strapped on a shoulder holster with a Colt Diamondback in 38 Special. Then I sat back on the driving bench and flicked the reins across the horses asses.
Five hours later I pulled up in front of the Alamo, tied the team to a hitching rack and went inside looking for Colonel William B. Travis. It didn't take long to find him and when I told him I'd come to volunteer for the pending battle he shook my hand, welcomed me aboard, and had someone show me to a room. After settling down in a room I headed back downstairs
In the saloon I found a swamper and offered him ten dollars to help me unload. He wanted to see the money first so I showed him one of the twenty dollar gold pieces I'd had sense enoung to bring along for the occasion. He took it, put it in his mouth and bit down on it like they always did in the movies, and then he went to the bar and got change, bringing me two five dollar coins.
We carried the rifles inside first and then started toting the ammunition. It got the attention of someone and when he asked me about it damned if it wasn't David Crocket. Like any good talker he started up and so I showed him the Marlins and the rounds they fired. When I told him I had twelve he asked what I'd take for one.
"You can have ten of them for nothing if you can find nine other good shots to share them with. I would advise you all sight them in before you use them though. They probably drop a lot less over distance than what you're used to," I said.
He promised he'd have everyone he shared one with take care of that detail and after we'd got all of them plus the Barret and all the ammunition up to my room I held out a thousand rounds of the 35Remington cartridges for myself and sent Crocket on his way with ten rifles and nine thousand rounds
Life in the Alamo was nice enough for the next few days. The food was good and plentiful. Finally it was time to pay the piper though, or else shoot him.
I was up on the wall with my Barret about the time Santa Ana was doing his last dancing and prancing in front of the first wave or troops he was about to send our way. I didn't kill him, but I shot his horse out from under his no good ass and I did it with one shot. It looked to me like the horse had fallen on one of the General's legs and broken the shit out of it since it took a dozen men to roll the damned dead thning off him and he was carried away on a stretcher. I couldn't resist shooting one of the four liter bearers that was taking him away and of course he dropped his part of the load, him being dead and all.
That really pissed them off and I saw a bunch start loading a cannon. It wasn't the biggest one they had but it was big enough. I'll admit I didn't know a four pounder from a six pounder, but the size of the ball they put in this one looked to be eight inches in diameter or so. I took careful aim after they quit ramming it and fired right down the open hole. I was hoping the big fifty caliber bullet would punch a hole in the ball and cause it to swell out a little at least. It must have done just that because when they touched the thing off it blew up in their faces.
Hell, an explosion on their end was a lot better than the shot coming our way so I looked around to find other cannon being loaded. I did a damned good job if I do say so myself. One of them got a shot off, but I foiled six more the same way I had the first one.
About an hour or so later David Crocket came up on the wall with nine other men carrying the Marlins I'd given him. They were just in time since a charge came at us then with a bunch of home made ladders. They found out quickly they weren't getting anywhere trying that shit. Crockett and his buddies laid down a withering fire on the ladder toters and not a damned ladder made it to the walls. They didn't let any of them make it back to the starting place with the ladders either. Hell, if someone else wanted to put a ladder on the wall they could try it with a brand new one.
Most of the rest of the day I spent blowing up cannons. I kept a watch and when I saw one being loaded I pulled the same stunt. Hell, it seemed to work every time.
About noon they tried the ladder trick again but all they did was pile more ladders atop the ones the other group had tried to put in place and then dropped when we shot their asses. They were at a big disadvantage what with the wall to climb before they could do anything and with us firing away while they were trying to climb. I didn't even use a rifle since it was so much easier to just stand at the wall and give a taste of the 44 magnum to anyone trying to handle a ladder. The main thing I worried about was the dead bodies piling up until the attackers just climbed over them to get inside.
Soon enough word went around on our side not to shoot the men retrieving the dead or wounded. It was easy to see they'd never make any progress unless we let them, for us it was anyway. I don't know what they were thinking but we were behind high stout walls and we had repeating arms. As long as our ammunition held out they weren't going to do any good at all. It didn't really matter to us. We could stand up there and slaughter them by the hundreds or thousands. It wasn't much skin off our asses. They had even given up on trying their cannons by now since so many of them exploded when they lit them off. They didn't know what was causing it but even a blind hog finds an acorn every now and then and they had finally decided it wasn't worth losing a cannon to get off one or two shots our way.