Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, .
Desc: Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Jake was sitting around on his ass watching a Space Opera on his TV and then damned if he didn't get sucked up in a transporter beam and invited to join a mission. He wasn't exactly Fucked, but it was close enough.
I was well and truly fucked and I knew it. I'd been sitting on my ass at home, watching a Space Opera movie, and it was just getting to the good part. I knew it was since I'd watched this movie before. Twice in fact. What the hell, it was nothing for me. I'd read The Hobbit a dozen times and The Lord of The Rings, all the books, three or four times. So watching a movie more than once was normal for me.
It wasn't what had me fucked though. I was fucked because I'd just taken a ride in a transporter. You know what I'm talking about. I'd been beamed up, Scotty, just like on a Star Trek episode.
I hadn't really expected Spock to be waiting for me when I arrived, but still, I felt a little let down when he wasn't. Oh well. The fairly cute and well-appointed Earth type female who was waiting for me called me by name and said, "Come with me." For some strange reason it made my dick hard, for a minute or so anyway. Her fast pace leading me down the hall worked the boner off me in no time though.
The trip was amazingly Star Trek looking too. Down a spotless corridor and through a door, which slid open as soon as we approached. She dropped me off in what appeared to be a waiting room and told me to wait there. Aside from the spotless appearance of the room it would have served well as a Doctor's waiting room.
Unlike a Doctor's waiting room, there were no other people waiting and I thought of it as a big plus that I was called in after only about a five minute wait.
I walked through the door that slid open when my name was called and into a small office with a desk and a man sitting behind it. He motioned me into a chair across from his desk and I'll swear to God his nameplate, sitting on the desk, said James Kirk. I was only a little let down that the man behind the nameplate didn't look a thing like William Shatner.
He introduced himself and quickly explained the name was just a coincidence.
"You'll have to admit it is one hell of one." I said.
"Yes, I'll admit it. Let's get on with this though. We have had you under observation for a few months. You were picked from thousands and we'd like to employ you for a mission," he said.
"Why? I don't know shit about space travel." I said.
"It isn't a mission in space. It is a mission in time. You don't really know anything about that either, but we have read some of your fiction and you have a close approximation of what it will be like, as in, it will be like you are living in a previous time period. In fact, you will be living in a previous time period.
"What about paradoxes?" I asked.
"There won't be any and you needn't worry about it," he said.
"How far back in time will I be going?" I asked.
"To 1865. Just after the Civil War is over. Only days after it is over in fact." he said.
"What do you want me to do?" I asked.
"Anything you'd like to do." he said.
"Actually, we'd like for you to join a wagon train heading for Oregon and taking the Oregon trail." he said.
"Will I ever be coming back?" I asked.
"That will cause complications, but it is possible. If, after you reach Oregon and live there a year or so, you want to return to the present, you can. What you won't be able to do is resume your current identity. When you leave it will seem as if you were killed in a terrorists plane-hijacking."
What the hell, it wasn't as if things were looking so rosy for me here and now.
"What does it pay? You said you wanted to employ me so what will my salary be?" I asked.
"Five thousand dollars per month. It will be held in trust until the mission is over." he said.
"Are there any benefits that go with the job?" I asked.
"The best health care plan you have ever heard of. It will be even better than any you can imagine now. If you are injured or shot on the job you will be retrieved and repaired post-haste. Just so there is no misunderstanding, you can be killed on the job, as you put it, and if you are killed there will be nothing we can do. So please, don't get killed."
"Will you be furnishing me anything in the way of equipment?" I asked.
"Yes. Period clothing will be tailor made for you, including boots. It will look like the clothes of the time but it will be much more durable and will fit much better. We will also furnish you with firearms and ammunition plus a Conestoga wagon, eight mules, two riding horses, and all necessary harness and tack. We will also furnish anything else you think of you may need, as long as it fits the period.
Some leeway can be taken for things which may not fall exactly within the period but which will not draw attention. For instance, several firearms we have in mind for you were not available at the time, but we judged them to be acceptable anyway." he said.
"May I have a list of your recommended firearms?" I asked.
"Certainly, but remember, we will be leaving a small ship in orbit to watch over you. If you find any of the firearms unsatisfactory or you think of one you'd like after you are in place we can furnish it as long as it will pass muster with the time period."
"Hell, you talked me into it. When do I leave?" I said.
"You'll leave almost at once, but you won't be put in place for a couple of months. We have to check you out medically first, make a few improvements, and do some training," he said.
I was put back down at home with a plane ticket to New York City and I had to rustle my leaves to DFW to catch my plane. I was actually looking forward to the flight since it was a first class ticket.
As I'd been told, a group of terrorists took over the plane in flight. I rushed to the entrance door and opened it with the big Emergency handle (as instructed by the aliens) and was immediately sucked out of the plane along with the terrorists. The aliens had also informed me I wouldn't be sucked out of the plane, but would actually be expelled by the plane's atmosphere as it rushed out into the lower pressure. No matter what they said it felt like I was sucked out. The plane later landed safely in Shreveport and I was hailed as a hero by the other first class passengers.
Of course I was actually picked up by the aliens as soon as I was outside the plane and transported back aboard their ship. Unfortunately for the terrorists, they were left to their own trajectory, mostly. The other passengers were held in place until the decompression was over.
The terrorists were maneuvered, just a little; during their freefall to make sure they landed on suitably unoccupied concrete. They also put a replacement body for me in freefall too and unfortunately it landed on the concrete also.
I even got to watch some of the news coverage of my demise and of my funeral. I was buried with honors and got a rather large tombstone. In fact I was impressed with myself, or at least with the celebrity corpse I'd become.
Not long after they had the replacement me in the ground my medical repair and improvement began. Of course the spacemen had very advanced ways of treating me. I was scanned from asshole to appetite and they fixed anything they found broken, from my diabetes to my retinopathy. I guess you'd say this was the start of the improvements too.
My eyesight wasn't only fixed, it was improved. It was improved to something no other person had. I now had a new function in my eyes. It was a sort of zoom effect and it worked automatically somehow. My reaction speed was also improved. They told me it was system wide, whatever that meant, but they assured me I could now run faster, move faster, and even feel faster.
Apparently I was now fast enough to catch arrows in flight if they were aimed at me though it was recommended I not try or rely on this ability. I could also think more rapidly now too, though it wasn't apparent to others.
Whatever they did it made me feel great. I was told I was now immune to practically any disease, which affected humans. Whatever. I felt great now and they told me it would last without boosters being needed.
I was released on a wagon trace in Tennessee on April 10 1865. Exactly one day after the official end of the Civil War. The Conestoga wagon they provided was great and it even had some type of metal armor inside the wood used to build it. There was a team of eight big Missouri mules and there were four extra mules on lead ropes and halters following behind the wagon. I'd also been allowed to pick horses earlier and they were on halters now and following along with the extra mules. I'd chosen a well trained cutting horse and a well trained roping horse, both of them of the Quarter horse persuasion.
We were put down in a little clearing off the side of the road and I was basically ready to go. I was wearing a dual-holster gun belt with a Ruger Super-Blackhawk in .44 magnum in each holster and the revolvers had been modified to be double action models by the spacemen, even though they appeared perfectly normal on visual inspection.
I also had a Colt Diamondback in a well-fitted shoulder holster and a Colt Python in a sort of Ad hoc crossdraw holster added to the other holsters of my double holster gun belt. I'll admit I might have been a little over done in the handgun department, but what the hell? My Wranglers were custom made and custom fitted and so was the gunbelt. It wasn't going to drag my pants down. I'd been through quite a bit of training on the spaceship learning how to do a proper fast draw and I was ready to get it on.
My Conestoga wagon was the ultimate in traveling comfort for this time and place. The seat was upholstered and padded with high-density foam and it fit my ass great. I had considered calling for the addition of a custom made bucket seat, but decided against it right at the last second.
Hell, I was loose now and so I moved the team out into the road and had them trot off. After about a mile I settled them out of the trot and into a walk. I wasn't in any hurry; I was just off on a wagon ride.
I was gaining on a wagon in front of me and was within two hundred feet of it when I got a message directly into my brain. Of course it was from the spacemen. It warned me the wagon in front of me was about to be attacked by roadside bandits and suggested I slow down so I wouldn't be involved.
I did no such thing and actually speeded up just a fraction. Soon enough a tree fell from the woods beside the road and it fell directly into the path of the wagon in front of me. I stopped my team then and picked up my Ruger #1 rifle in .45-70 the spacemen had provided and put it up to my shoulder. I shot the first attacker to come out of the woods right in his left ear and then had to fumble for more cartridges to reload.
I guess it would have been smarter to use one of the Henrys I'd been provided or one of the .35 Remington Marlin 336c lever actions. Anyway, I was a little late with my second shot and it allowed one of the other attackers to fire into the wagon. The Ruger did a perfect job of cashing in his chips later though and I was faster reloading for the next few shots.
Most of it turned out for the good though since it was easy to dispatch the next two attackers and I figured the all clear had been given so I stopped behind the wagon and rushed up to it to see if I could help.
One look at the wounded man let me know it was too late. He'd been shot directly in the center of his chest and blood was pouring out. The woman, or girl, with him was trying to staunch the flow with a bandage but I knew at once it wouldn't help.
Nevertheless I climbed into the wagons box to see if I could help. She had bandages packed over the wound by the time I was up in the driving box and all I could do was help her move the older man into the back of the wagon so he could lie down.
It didn't help much, of course. Blood wasn't spilling freely from the hole in his chest any longer, but I knew it was still spilling out somewhere and it couldn't be going anywhere to do him much good. His breathing became labored and soon enough he gave a tremendous sigh and expired.
The girl/woman was devastated and bent down to kiss him goodbye.
"God bless you Papa, sleep with the angels now," she said to the corpse. I left her alone with her loved one for a few minutes and then took the leads and pulled the wagon on up the road a little and off into the woods. When I had it stopped I went back to get mine and pulled in beside her.
It was a surprisingly composed young woman who came out of the wagon when I had mine in place. She asked me if I could bury her father and I told her I would, found a shovel in my wagon, and started on a hole. Half an hour later we wrestled him out of her wagon and lowered him into his final resting place. She spoke a few words over him, said a prayer and then moved off. I guess she didn't want to see him being covered.
Soon enough it was done and she volunteered to fix a meal if I would build a fire so I did and then she did.
We talked later, as we were eating, and I discovered they had been heading for Independence Missouri to catch on with a wagon train heading for Oregon.
"I don't know what I'll do now," she said.
"Come along with me then. I'm headed for Independence myself," I said.
"But I don't even know how to drive the wagon," she said.
"No matter, I can hitch them both together," I said.
"But won't it be unseemly, a man and woman traveling together even though they aren't related?" she asked.
"I guess we'll just have to get related then. Will you marry me?" I asked her, without thinking with my big head of course.
She was a delicious little treat though. She had auburn hair, green eyes, and from what I could see she was well put together. As Jimmy Carter once said, I had lust in my heart. Not only that, but I had a stiffening in my Wranglers to go with it.
"I guess it would be best. Don't you already have a wife?" she asked.
"No, I don't," I said.
"I was just being silly anyway. Lots of men have more than one wife now-a-days, what with the war making men so scarce and everything," she said.
"Well, you'll be my first wife if you'll have me, and I promise I won't take any more unless you approve of them first," I told her.
It was agreed and we moved on. We cleaned up the dishes and then I walked to the back of my wagon to see if I could figure out where to tie the wagons together. The voice in my head told me he had made provisions for the connection as soon as he heard of the trouble.
There was now a loop attached to the rear of my wagon and a hook installed onto the tongue of hers. It looked like it would work to me. Once it was hooked and the first wagon started moving the team for the second one would have to move out too. It might give trouble going down a steep grade with no one to apply the brakes on the second wagon, but we could worry about it when it came up.
I had to move the spare mules and my riding horses to tie them onto the rear wagon and as soon as it was done I remembered the dead men on the road and their mounts.
I caught up their horses first and tied them on with our others and then I went through all their pockets and stripped everything off the bodies. I even took the bloody clothes. Susan said she could wash them and probably get most of he blood out. Hell, I even took their boots and socks.
It was a pretty good haul. All of them had at least twenty gold double eagles in their pockets and the leader had thirty-four. All their side arms were 1860 Colt Armies. Their Colts were all in excellent shape and I was glad to get them. The 1860 Army Colt was an excellent revolver for its time. I did have plans for them though. Thinking of that made me wish I had a way to contact my alien watchers overhead, but what the hell, the Colts would work fine in their original configuration, especially since we found five hundred paper cartridges for them in the saddlebags.
They all had nearly new looking Henry repeaters in saddle scabbards too and two of them had ten gauge Greeners in an extra saddle scabbard on the other side of their saddles. If they had been smarter and sat back in the woods they'd have slaughtered us.
After I'd picked up all the loot and stored it in the wagons we got back on the road. We weren't molested for the rest of the day. We did stop in the first town we came to and looked up a preacher.
He pissed me off right off the bat by telling us we seemed to be a little young to be getting married.
"Well, we're traveling to Oregon. If you think we'd be better off living in sin all the way out there just say so and we'll leave."
He shut his fat Baptist mouth then and took the two dollars and married us pronto. Susan laughed when we got outside.
"You should be ashamed of yourself talking to the preacher that way," she said, teasing me.
"He should be ashamed of himself. He isn't a man of God like he claims. He's a busybody worse than most old women I've met. He's just lucky I didn't punch his ticket and send him on to heaven right then and there." I said.
"Well, at least he married us. It was all I wanted anyway," Susan said.
"Me too, baby, me too," I said, and we walked across the street to a cafe for a meal before we left.
We had broiled beef, beans, and fried potatoes for lunch and it was topped off with apple pie and we washed it down with coffee. The coffee was especially good and we stayed around for an extra cup after we finished the pie.
We headed out after eating and I was hoping for a quiet afternoon's ride, but it wasn't to be. I was using my newly improved eyes to their fullest extent along the sides of the road and spotted a man trying to stay hidden in the trees, just out in the woods, and he was chopping like hell on a tree.
I knew damned well it would fall into the road when we came near so I told Susan to take up a Greener and make sure it was loaded. I also had her check on one of the Patterson Navies I'd collected. Since it was .36 caliber I felt she could probably handle it more easily than a .44. I kept my eyes on the man and I could see four others in the woods near him and they were already mounted.
I stopped the wagon in the road while still a hundred or so yards from their planned ambush spot. When I did I picked up one of my Marlin 336cs in 35 Remington and shot the chopper. In a minute the four mounted men headed out way with their pistols already out and firing into the air.
I started in on them with the Marlin and they were all down before the closest one was within fifty feet.
I left Susan in the wagon with the Greener and got down and headed for the downed men. The closest, the one I'd shot last, was still alive. I'd shot him in the shoulder and it was obvious his right arm was useless to him now.
"Well, what have we here? Looks like a roadside robber to me. Hang on a second, I need to get something out of my wagon," I told him.
I was betting he thought I was going to get something to help with his wound, but he was wrong. I went back and found a pair of pliers.
When I came back to him he was surprised when I started unbuckling his pants and then I pulled them down.
"I know you must have done some robbing already so you'd better tell me where your loot is hidden," I said.
"I ain't telling you shit," he said, defiantly.
He changed his tune when I pinched his dickhead with the pliers and he was begging when he saw the Buck 184 I pulled out of its plastic sheath at my side. It is a wicked looking knife after all.
"Now, I'm gonna cut your dick off you a little bit at a time until you tell me where you're loot is hid out," I said, and put the sharp edge of the big buck knife against his dick, just behind he head.
He told me quickly it was just back in the woods in the wagon they had pulled out there. When he did I sliced his dickhead off and threw it out into the woods. When he stopped screaming I spoke up again.
"I'm going to look for it now. Just remember how much your dick hurts now and you'll be able to imagine how much it's gonna hurt if I don't find your loot where you said it would be. I'll come back and cut your whole dick off an inch at a time if it isn't there," I told him and it made him remember to tell me where they had buried some of it near the wagon.
Susan was with me by now and carrying the reloaded Greener.
"Susan, you watch him and if he tries to crawl off go ahead and shoot him with both barrels," I told her and she told me she would.
I checked all the others as I walked toward their cache and they were all dead since I'd nailed them in the chest. I'd only remembered to only wound the last one so I could question him right at the last. I took the reins of the last horse I came to and led him off into the woods with me. I felt a little better about the rough treatment I'd given the others when I saw an older man with two holes in his chest lying beside one wagon. I looked inside it and could see it had been ransacked. I took a look in the other wagon and there was a girl or young woman tied up in it with a gag in her mouth.
I crawled inside and turned her loose and she took out the gag as soon as her hands were free.
"Oh, thank you mister. We have to get away from her quickly. The others might be back soon," she said.
"I just killed six of them in the road. How many others were there?" I asked her.
"Oh, you must have got them all," she said, and her shoulders sagged in relief.
I wanted to kick my own ass for mentioning it but I told her she might want to put on some more clothes while I went to get my wagon and wife and bring them up here.
She told me her name was Amy and thanked me again and reluctantly I got out of the wagon. Amy was a treat for the eyes, especially since she'd only been weaning bloomers and a thin shirt when I found her. Her big fat titties had wiggled and wobbled up a caution when I turned her loose and her face was really pretty. The deep blue eyes and bright blonde hair didn't hurt anything either.
I went back out into the road catching up horses and robbing bodies as I went. I hit the jackpot, or so I thought, on the first body. He had forty double eagles in his pockets and a nice, nearly new double holster gun belt. He also had a pair of Navy Pattersons. They were only .36 caliber, but they were lighter than the Army Colts and I figured I might be able to draw even faster with the lighter revolvers.