Chapter 1

Copyright© 2012 by Old Man with a Pen

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Just read it.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Reluctant   Mind Control   Magic   Slavery   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Time Travel   Harem   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex  


The Nor'easter roared in from the sea, leaving a scattered few trawlers on the rocks and two steamers unreported. On reaching land at Rye, it veered westward, rolling across Manchester, Weare and points west. It crossed the Connecticut river, slammed into the mountains and reversed course.

Unhappy to be thwarted, it blustered and blew, gathering strength as the west winds shoved it back down the foothills and to the sea. The tattering remains of the Nor'easter fought the west winds and an unholy hell was unleashed just over Concord. The old gods decided to play and the lightning lit the night sky in a spectacular but deadly show while Thor hammered and thunder ruled.

"Wust storm in 50 yars," complained the farmers, distressed at the loss of crops. A spring wasted.

"Nehva seen the like in all my born days," agreed the foresters, pleased with the downed timber, free firewood to sell in the markets.

The coastal people mourned their dead drowned sons and fathers, and scavenged the wrack and ruin. There is no wind that doesn't help someone.

"Spectacular," said the city folk. "Charley got some great photographs."

During the height of the storm, in an unregistered lab in the basement of a spooky abandoned house in a small and touristy town some distance outside of Manchester, a harried technician dashed for the intercom.

"Jason?" Come on ... answer the damn intercom. 'CLICK' Finally.


"There's something wrong with mold 'J'."


"I don't know. The chemical plasma mix has altered. The readings are off."

"Dump it out." Jason commanded. "Pour another."

"Yes, Sir."

He hung up.

The intercom buzzed again ... a much longer wait.


"Yes?" A little perturbed this time.

"It's already semi solid."

"Did you pour it out?"

"Yes. Ah, Jason ... I didn't refill the mold.


"Sweep out the sludge and see if you can find the problem with the mold."

Several hours later, just as Jason was cleaning his whip, the intercom buzzed again.


"What now?" I employ idiots ... I simply need better help.

"The mold was chipped and cracked on a seam. We can fix it."

"No, No, No ... destroy it. The last time there was an imperfection the former crew tried to fix, we lost all the I's." What Jason really meant was the entire batch had to be discarded ... along with the bumbling idiots who allowed valuable plasma to be misused. "How many of the 'J's show the imperfection?"

"None, Sir. Just the one I dumped and it wasn't set yet." He was sweating profusely. "It was a pretty thing."

"They're all pretty. That's the way I designed them." Jason laughed diabolically. "Destroy the mold and dump the remaining artifact base in the sewer. It's of no use to us now."

"Yes, Sir."

"Just the one?"

"Yes, Sir."

"How many did the mold make before it cracked?"

"46, Jason."

"That's a fair return. How many orders do we have for the 'J' model?"

"40, Sir."

"40? That's very good."

"Yes, Sir. The artifact had excellent features."

"I fancy the 'J' model ... reserve the rest for my private use... 6 should be enough."

"Yes, Sir."

"I'll order another artifact, inform the mold maker."

"Yes, Sir." The relief was audible.

The man left to go to the other lab, as he stepped on the sidewalk the 12 gauge slug took him just behind the left ear. The lower jaw and body were all that was left.

Jason giggled, "I'll Blow your head off ... perfect." He stepped in the door, picked up the phone, dialed and said, "I'll need another artifact."

The voice on the phone mumbled indistinctly.

"Make this one blond and 16. Mid-west this time." He pressed the disconnect cradle. Releasing it, he dialed another number.

"Clean up? Two to go. One outside the casting lab and one in my study." Jason giggled at the shredded remains of the 14 year old girl. "She's all used up." He hung up the hand set. He paused, "I'm so bored. Just when I get excited, they die."

The sweepings, semi solid, within an hour of completion, slid down the storm drain and out the drain to the river. It was supposed to go in the sewer to the treatment plant to be digested and settled to sludge with the artifact.

No one knew.

A lightning struck tree exploded on the bank of the river and toppled, sparking and crackling, heavy with millions of wild and free electrons, into the river. The river glowed for an instant as the electricity sought ground. The sweepings were in the middle of the glow. The heavy jolt solidified the mass.

She stretched, coughing and retching from the shock and the water. Thousands of electrocuted fish swirled past ... she grabbed one and had her first meal. Real meat, heated by the current.

Leaving the water, she walked and ran between searching lightning bolts. She entered the darkened town and knocked on the door of one Jay and Son. Gunsmith and Collector of Junk and Purveyor of Fine Antiquities. The door opened. "Please?" she said. A hand beckoned. She entered.

"What name, child?"

Her face screwed up in a mask of torment, then cleared.


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