Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Time Travel, Historical, Polygamy/Polyamory, Oral Sex, Violent,
Desc: Western Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Joe Waters was a Western movie stunt man who somehow traveled through time to the West of 1876. He started out as a bounty hunter because there were no other jobs available, and that turned out to be his lucky day. He found two wives and a fortune in gold. He had plenty of chance to use his Starr DA in.44 caliber as he lived through a tumultuous year.
I'm a stunt man specializing in Western movies and TV shows. I ain't pretty enough to be the leading man, but I do sometimes get the job of the sidekick. At other times, I play the heavy (bad guy in the black hat). Actually, I like those jobs the best because I usually get a lot of screen time, I work often, and the pay is good. Anyway, that's what I'm doing today.
Don't tell anybody I said so, but this TV movie is a pretty crappy rip-off of the classic Shane, staring Alan Ladd. I've got the part that Jack Palance played—the meanest, no-account bastard that ever shot a man in the back. Of course, the hero shoots me at the end of the movie.
In this particular scene, I'm riding into town to do some devilment, but it doesn't make much difference what it is. Since scenes are shot out of order, I sometimes forget what is coming up next, but the director will remind me, so I'm not worried. Anyway, this scene was being shot in the outback of beyond in California, but it's supposed to represent Nebraska in the early 1870s. How the Hell they can justify those mountains in the background for being a part of Nebraska is beyond me, but I don't get paid to worry about that.
Anyway, I'm supposed to ride across the plains, dip out of sight in an arroyo, and reappear a few seconds later. Who knows why, but that was what the scriptwriter ordered. I started down into the arroyo and was hanging at a 45° angle when the damned fool horse stepped in a hole and tripped. Well, his front end dropped and I went tumbling over that damned horse's head, landing on my own head.
It really pissed me off and I damned near punched that stupid horse for not watching where he was going, but I caught myself before I did that. The No Cruelty to Animals observer would have had my ass in jail if I had made that swing. It's okay to kill a human, but you dare not inflict pain on an animal!
I figured that the scene was ruined, and we would have to shoot it again, but I climbed back into the saddle and rode up the far side of the gully. I looked around and could not see the movie crew. Where the Hell had they gone. Shit, I banged my head real hard when I fell, and I was looking for some TLC (Tender Loving Care) from that stacked nurse we had on the set. If I was lucky, she might even rub those D-cup breasts along my back while she was checking me out.
Nobody was to be seen! Hell, I was in no mood to ride the 10 miles or so back to the ranch house on a horse. I wanted a nice comfortable ride in an air conditioned limo. I looked around again for the crew and that was when I noticed that the mountains in the background had vanished!
What the shit was going on!?! Now, this looked like Nebraska of the 1870s. I knew that because I always did a little research on any film setting I was involved in. It was a matter of pride with me that I acted appropriately when I had a movie part. The grass was up to my horse's belly, and that couldn't be true anywhere in the USA in the 21st century.
I had no idea what had happened, but I figured that I had better check to see if I was still armed. For this movie, I was dressed in the stereotyped cowboy outfit with a gun tied to my thigh. Normally, I hate that, because I prefer a crossdraw holster, but what was I going to say? Anyway, I checked my revolver, and I found that it was a Starr DA (double-action) in .44 caliber WCF (Winchester Center Fire). I also had a Winchester in a scabbard attached to my saddle, and that had not been there this morning when filming started!
My one deviation from the stereotype outfit was that I had a pouch of loose ammunition fastened to my waist instead of the expected belt loops for cartridges. I was getting more and more of a sinking feeling in my gut when I looked to my pistol and saw that the cylinder was loaded with six cartridges which were not the usual blanks used in movies. There were also two filled cylinders for my revolver in my ammunition pouch, so I was dressed for action!
I needed to make sure that the cartridges really worked in case I really was stuck back in 1870s Nebraska, or wherever I was. I have always taken pride in my shooting ability, and I had even won a few shooting contests, so I knew what I could expect when I fired off a round. There was a tree stump about 50 feet away, so I pulled out my pistol and took a shot at it. Yep, those were real bullets, all right! Splinters flew off the stump, so I knew that I was no longer in the comfortable 21st century.
I had developed the habit of reloading my piece every time I fired, and I did it this time, too. I had no idea what I might meet, and I figured that I had better be ready. With that in mind, I dismounted and took off my gunbelt. I removed the holster and refastened it to my belt on my left side where a crossdraw pistol should be. I also tore away the leather strap that was intended to hold the gun in the holster; it wasn't needed for a crossdraw holster and it got in the way of a fast draw.
While I was about it, I checked the Winchester and found that the magazine was full, so I pushed it back into the scabbard and figured that I was as well prepared as I could hope to be with the meager amount of knowledge I had about my current circumstances.
I saw no sign of a road, but I did see some telegraph poles about a mile away, so I figured that must be a railroad. I headed in that direction on the very good chance that it would lead me to a town eventually. When I got to the railroad, I also saw a road running parallel to it, so I figured that I was making some progress. With nothing else for guidance, I mentally flipped a coin and headed east. At least, by going that way, there was no sun in my eyes.
Fortunately, I had learned from my hitch in the army to eat well whenever that was possible, so I had eaten as much lunch as I could hold. Therefore, I was not hungry, and could easily last until tomorrow before I got something to eat if I had to. Well, I lucked out. The sun was getting mighty low in the sky when I caught sight of a small town in the distance. I hoped that the light would last until I got there, but I could travel in the dark if it became necessary. All I had to worry about was my damned fool horse stepping into another hole.
I pulled into town not long after sundown, and not seeing much of anything open for business, I stopped in at a saloon. I asked if there was a hotel in town and where I could get some supper. I was directed to the hotel, and it had a restaurant, so I was in reasonable luck at that point. Then it dawned on me: What was I going to use for money? I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out what looked to me like some ancient coins. The most recent was dated 1869, so now I knew what era I was in. The hotel wanted two-bits for a room, but they would throw in beef and beans for supper for an extra dime. I had that much and took my token to the restaurant for my supper. That's when I found out that the only thing to drink was coffee, and that was 2¢ a cup.
Well, it was not the best meal I ever had, but it was better than I expected, so I guess I came out even. I went up to my room and flopped on the bed. I had been told that I would find the chamber pot under the bed, and I was lucky to find that it had been emptied since it was last used. I wonder if that made this hotel one of the elite. I had already put my horse up, so I was ready for bed. I leaned my rifle against the door so that it would fall over with a clatter if anybody tried to come in during the night. I stripped off my clothes, pissed, and lay down. I was asleep in only minutes.
The next morning, I paid another 10¢ for eggs and biscuits, plus 2¢ for coffee. That turned out to be a filling breakfast by the time I had eaten all of the biscuits that the waitress would bring me without charging me more. I had about $20 in coins in my pocket, and I intended to be as frugal as possible until I had a chance to find a job of some sort.
I asked the waitress and the desk clerk if they knew of any jobs available, and I got the same answer; namely, jobs were damned hard to come by unless I could and would use my gun. Well, I wasn't interested in shooting anybody if I could help it, but I might come to it if I couldn't find anything else.
This town was so small that it had only one saloon, but I figured that the bartender would know of a job if anybody did. I walked in an paid 3¢ for a mug of warm beer. God, that stuff tasted bad, but it did get the bartender to talk to me. He gave me the same story that I got from the waitress and the desk clerk, so I was wondering what to do.
A rough looking character came in the door and looked hard at me. He surely could tell that I was a stranger in town, and it didn't make sense to me why he made a point of bumping me with his shoulder as he walked by. The saloon was virtually empty, so I knew that the bump was no accident. The bully turned to me and said, "Ya better git yerself out of my way, stranger. I ain't in the mood fer walking around some clod what does not know what is good fer him."
I looked him square in the eye and said, "I don't know what you think makes you so important, but I have no intention of making room for a fool like you."
That was enough to get him excited. He pulled a huge knife and said, "I'll make ya sorry ya ever showed up in this town, ya galoot."
Well I was a street fighter almost from the day I was born, so I was not afraid of the knife. The fool didn't know how to hold it for maximum effectiveness at such close range. Apparently, he was used to having his opponent back down as soon as he saw the knife. Well, I didn't!
I knocked the knife aside with my left arm and punched the bully in the gut with my fist as hard as I could punch. Let me tell you, I had all 185 pounds of me behind that punch. The knife went flying, and the bully fell to the floor trying to get his breath. I let him almost recover before I kicked him in the same place with as hard a kick as I could manage.
The bartender looked at me with new respect at that exhibition. "I ain't never seen nobody do a better job of laying out an asshole. That galoot is Bubba Aikens, an' I advise ya ta watch yer back while ya are in town. Bubba is likely ta shoot ya in the back the first chance he gits."
"I guess that the best thing I could do would be to put a bullet into Bubba's head right now. But then I would have to argue with the town marshal."
"There ain't no marshal in Oak Branch, so go ahead an' shoot him ifen ya wants ta. He sure as Hell deserves it!"
"No, I couldn't do that. My mother would turn over in her grave if I shot a man who couldn't defend himself."
"Well, she is yer mother, but I would not put any stock in that attitude when it comes ta Bubba. He is just too mean ta be nice ta. LOOK OUT! BUBBA HAS A GUN!"
Well, that put a different light on things! I jumped to one side and drew my gun. Before I even thought about it, I put a bullet into Bubba's chest and another into his head. I left two-bits for the swamper to clean up the mess, but I did take from Bubba anything of value that I could find. I picked up $7.29 from his pockets, but he didn't have a moneybelt. The bartender advised me to take the gun and knife, too, since I could sell them if I had no need for them. I thanked him for his advice and left for my hotel room.
It turned out that the gun was damned near worthless, but that knife looked like a gem among knives. It was a classic Bowie design with the soft brass strip along the top edge to use for catching and holding other blades. Yes, I was going to keep the knife. I put the sheath on my belt in the back at my backbone and tucked it into my pants. That would keep it out of the way, but still keep it handy for when I needed it.
I sat down on my bed and did some hard thinking. From what I heard, the only way I was going to make a living in this time was as a gunslinger, or as a "shootist" as they were currently called. I needed to do a little work on my holster to get a better draw angle, but it was pretty good as it was. The question, though, was how was I going to find an employer. It seemed to me that the only way I could feed myself in the short run was to become a bounty hunter. I was willing to bet that a lot of people tried that profession, but very few made a living at it.
My other prospect was as a poker player. I was a better than average player, but I was not up to a true professional. In any case, I needed some more money before I could take up poker on a regular basis. I simply did not have enough cash on hand to ride out a losing streak, and I expected to have at least some of them before I could get my skill level up enough to win regularly.
I went down to eat what was locally called dinner, though it was in the middle of the day. I wondered what they called it in California in this era. I found that I could get beef and beans for 25¢ with the usual 2¢ for coffee. I had a feeling that I was going to get tired of beef and beans, but I had no alternative right now.
After eating, I stopped at the hotel desk to ask where to find the nearest courthouse. I was told that would be in the large town about 25 miles south of here along the main trail. I thanked the clerk and told him that I would be checking out tomorrow morning.
I managed to find a penny-ante poker game in the saloon and was able to spend the afternoon with that. I won more than I lost, but it was obvious that I needed to practice a lot more before I could expect to make a living at poker. Hopefully, I would have better luck at bounty hunting.
Fortunately, I had played bounty hunters a couple of times in TV movies, so I had some idea of what one needed to do. Nevertheless, I planned to ask for more information before much longer. There might be nuances to the game that I was never introduced to as an actor. I did know that I had to be prepared to shoot at a moment's notice.
The next day, I was up at dawn and had a big breakfast which I had to pay extra for, but I figured that there was a good chance that I would miss lunch, so I was stocking up. I was on my horse and heading south by the time the sun was well up.
Along here, there was a small river, so there were trees growing between the river and the road. That was where I ran into my first road agent. He came riding out from the trees and demanded my money. He was holding his gun in his hand and the hammer was cocked. Uh-oh, I was in trouble! I said, "Mister, I ain't got but $7 on me, but I got more in my saddlebag. Don't shoot, and I'll get it for you."
He told me to go ahead, so I stepped down from my horse. Fortunately, he was on the right side of my horse, and the general practice was to dismount to the left, so I was able to get my horse between the bandit and me. I pretended to fumble with the catch on my saddlebag, and managed to draw my pistol without being seen doing it. I ducked under my horse and fired a shot up at the bandit. He was caught completely by surprise and did not react fast enough.
Okay, I'll admit that luck had a lot to do with it, but my bullet caught him under the chin and went up into his brain. The top of his head exploded, and he fell from his horse. When I stopped shaking from the adrenalin rush, I went over his body. You wouldn't think of it from the way I was able to fool him, but he must have been reasonably successful because I found $127 in his moneybelt and over $9 in his pockets. That was more than I expected to get in bounty, so I was off to a resounding start in my new career.
I tied him to his horse and led the animal to the county seat. There I asked the marshal to let me look through his posters, and I found my man was good for $15. I got a receipt for the body and left two-bits to pay for the burial. I sold the horse, the tack, and the weapons for $39, so I was beginning to show a nice profit from my first day on the job.