Female Bounty Hunter, So There!
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2018 by aubie56

Western Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Helen Hunt was a Marine squad leader in Afghanistan until she somehow got transported through time to 1874 Texas. There she became a bounty hunter because that way she could use what she knew how to do. She met a man and his dog, and they became a bounty hunting unit. Helen was also a poker whiz and made a fortune at that. However, she wound up back in Texas in time for the 1876 Indian War. 10 chapters.

Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Western   Time Travel   Violence  

Dammit, that bullet was a little too close—time to move! If that fool rag-head shows himself again, he’s dead. My only choice is to move over to that gully where there is a little more protection. As soon as they start with the mortars, even that gully will not be much protection. Shit, here they come. What in the hell?! I can’t move with this much incoming mortar fire.

BANG!

Oh, my God, what a headache. That last one was too damned close. Hey, where am I?! This is not Afghanistan! What happened? That last mortar round must have been closer than I thought. It has my head all screwed up. Thank God, the mortar fire has stopped. Now, if I can just spot the rest of my squad. Shit, if I didn’t know better, I’d think that I was in Texas. All of this grass and trees weren’t here a few minutes ago.

Oh, no, what the shit?! I’m out of uniform and I can’t find my assault rifle. “HEY, GUYS, WHERE ARE YOU? ... SOMEBODY ANSWER ME! WHAT’S GOING ON?” No answer. Dammit, that was a fool thing to do. I know better than to advertise where I am if I’m still in enemy territory. Dammit, I’ve got to get my head on straight if I expect to live through this shit.

At least, there’s a horse down the gully a little bit. If I can stand up, I should be able to get to it. It’s saddled with a Western saddle, and that is as screwy as the scenery. Nobody in Afghanistan know beans about a Western saddle. At least, there is a shotgun hanging from the saddle horn. That will give me some protection.

Oh, Man, my head is still spinning and pounding. I sure wish I had some Tylenol or something for it. Maybe there is something useful in these jean pockets. And that reminds me, who the hell swapped my clothes. I’ve still got my panties and bra, but my pants, shirt, and boots have been changed. How could that happen without me knowing about it? This is just plain crazy!

Oh, God, where did these revolvers and knives come from? I have two revolvers in the crossdraw position at my waist, a Bowie knife on my right hip and a stiletto on my left hip. Shit, you’d think that I was in a cowboy movie. At least, I know how to use all of these weapons. Yep, this ammo pouch on my belt is full of .44-40 cartridges and shotgun shells, so I guess that my pistols are that caliber. Dammit, I’m being a fool again. I better check that the guns are loaded.

Okay, I’m familiar with my pistols—they are both Starr DAs in .44-40 caliber, and the cylinders are loaded with six cartridges in each. It’s a good thing that I learned to shoot my Dad’s revolver before I joined the Marines, and I haven’t lost any speed in drawing from when I was a kid. Dad used the crossdraw position, so that was what I learned.

“Well, horse, tell my your name. What, you’re not talking to me. Well, in that case, I’ll have to give you a name. I guess I’ll call you Red. Dammit, I’ve got to find somebody who can tell me what is going on. Okay, there is a Winchester rifle in the saddle sheath, just like I expected. I’ll tell you, Red, I’d think that I had traveled in time if I didn’t know better.

“Yeah, this is an 1873 model Winchester rifle, and it looks to be practically in mint condition, just like the pistols. Well, if I have traveled in time, I sure would like to know why and how. Maybe I’ll find out one day, but I won’t bet on it.”

Dammit, I have been riding for two hours or more and I still have not seen hide nor hair of any people. At least, I did spot this road that has to lead somewhere, so I guess that my best bet is to stick with it. This damned heat is bad, but not as bad as Afghanistan, so I guess that I can’t complain too much. The final convincer that I traveled in time was that $10 gold piece that I found in my pocket. If this is Texas of the 1870s, I can probably live a month on that amount of money, but I had better start thinking about how I can earn some more before this runs out.

It wasn’t half an hour later that I ran into a copse of cottonwood trees. I wasn’t paying much attention to things until a man rode out of the trees with a drawn pistol. “Raise your hands and give me your money.”

Oops, I had really done something stupid! Here I was facing a road agent with no way to draw my weapons. Hey, maybe I did have a secret weapon. As I raised my hands, my shirt was pulled against my chest, and the road agent’s eyes bulged as he starred at me. “My God, you’re a woman! This must be my lucky day. Get off your horse. I have plans for us to party.”

Uh-oh, I knew exactly what he had in mind, and that I was prepared for. I had been through the course in defending against rape and had wound up teaching the course for several months. The difference between the course and now was only that we were presently sitting on horses. “Okay, Mister, don’t shoot. I’m getting down.”

“Hey, you talk funny, but that will not make any difference. All I am interested in is your cunt. Move over to those low bushes while I dismount.”

Was he so eager for sex that he didn’t notice that I was armed with revolvers and knives, or was it that he just assumed that a mere woman could not possibly equal a man, even if she had a gun? Well, I did not hesitate to follow such a foolish order. I moved off the road, leading my horse into the low bushes at the side of the road.

The man actually holstered his gun as he prepared to dismount. Not only that, he turned his back on me for a few seconds. That was all I needed. I drew and fired my revolver in one smooth motion and put a bullet neatly between his shoulder blades. Naturally, he fell beside his horse and didn’t move.

Shit, he had surely planned to shoot me after tiring of raping me. He undoubtedly then planned to rob me. Well I was going to do the same to him. He was already dead, so I didn’t need to worry about his reaction when I searched him for money and anything else he had worth taking. I managed to get a little over $40 from his pockets and his moneybelt. I was careful when I removed his moneybelt not to get any blood on it, and I fastened it around my waist after I put his loose change in my pocket and put my eagle ($10 gold coin) in the moneybelt with his gold.

As it happens, I am very strong for a woman, so I had no trouble tying his body across the saddle. I had read in Western stories about how bounty hunters handled their quarry, so I knew what to do. I rigged up a rope lead for his horse and continued on my way looking for a town, hopefully one with a marshal.

Well, I got lucky. I found such a town before dark and got my receipt for the road agent. It turned out that he was worth $35, and that princely sum made my take from him over $100 by the time I sold everything I didn’t want. I did have to kick in two-bits (25¢) for burying him. I even tipped the marshal two-bits, enough for a few beers, for his help.

I also got the information I needed about where to collect my bounty and the recommendation that I spend the night in the town unless I wanted to camp out beside the road. I took the advice about staying in the local hotel. The marshal did warn me about the bedbugs, so I picked up a small bottle of horse lineament from the livery stable where I left my horse for the night. The agent at the livery stable assured me that I could safely leave my rifle and shotgun with my horse because he had a night-guard patrolling the stable. I decided to take his word for it because I could always shoot him if he were wrong.

I registered for a room in the hotel and got a strange look when I signed the register with my real name of Helen Hunt. I guess the clerk had thought that I was a man until he saw my name. He did warn me that I could not depend on just locking my door for the night, so I thanked him and decided what to do for my safety that night.

However, I was hungry since it had been a number of hours since I had eaten. The hotel had a restaurant attached, so I gave it a try. The choices were steak or beef and beans stew. I was feeling kind of flush with money, so I took the steak and coffee. The stew cost 22¢, but the steak was 31¢. In either case, the coffee was 2¢. There was no dessert offered, and, after trying the steak, I was just as happy. The steak was poorly cooked and tough, but I attacked it like any Marine would do and ate the whole damned thing. I just hoped for no heartburn tonight.

I was pretty tired, so I went back to my room and to bed. I did wedge a chair under the doorknob before lying down, but I put one revolver under my pillow and the other one on the floor beside the bed opposite the door in case I had to roll out of bed to that side. It was kind of hot in the room, so I opened the two windows that were not on the same side as the veranda roof. I figured that was safe enough since I had not seen any ladders when I leaned out the windows.

I must have been even more tired than I had realized because I dropped off to sleep almost as soon as I lay down. To be on the safe side, I only took off my boots, pants, and shirt. I figured that my underwear would be enough if I had to run from a fire. I did not know at the time that most people slept nude during the warm weather.

I was not disturbed that night, so I got plenty of sleep and woke up with the sunrise. I dressed and went down to breakfast. I had the usual: grits, bacon, eggs, biscuits, gravy, and coffee, so I was not surprised that the total cost was 24¢.

I picked up my horse and found that my guns had indeed survived the night, so I had no complaints as I rode away from the livery stable. My only regret was that I had not been more liberal with the lineament because the bedbug bites still itched. I figured that I could put up with it, but I resolved to be more generous tomorrow with the lineament.

I found the courthouse in the county seat and looked up the county clerk. At first, he was not going to give me the money for the bounty because it was obvious that a woman could never have overcome a road agent by herself. However, he did change his mind when I fingered the pommel of my Bowie knife and frowned at him. Six years in the Marines had taught me how to convince reluctant men that I was serious in my demands.

In fact, he became quite helpful toward the end of my visit. He gave me a stack of wanted posters, and he advised me to forget the ones without pictures. He said that the written descriptions were usually too vague to be useful, and I would get a bad reputation if I shot too many men not actually wanted. He also advised me to always shoot a man that I captured—there was too much danger in not doing so. I had no trouble in seeing his point, so that was what I resolved to do.

He also advised me to talk to bartenders as they usually knew who and what was going on in their town. That sounded like good advice, so I resolved to take it. Yes, that clerk turned out to be very helpful when he found out that I was capable of cutting him into giblets if he gave me too much of a hard time. That was when I remember that women were normally considered second-class citizens in this era. Dammit, I was not going to put up with that!

My next stop was for lunch at one of those combination hotel-tavern-restaurant-livery stable places that were this era’s equivalent of the roadside motel. I was a little bit pissed off that all I could get for lunch was the beef and beans stew that was the common fare of such places. Oh, well, the coffee was not too bad.

I went into the tavern to talk to the bartender. I ordered a beer and was charged 3¢. That was an outrageous price for the quality of the beer that was served. I complained and was offered a Mexican beer at 12¢, but could not get my original 3¢ returned. That convinced me to switch my beer to the Mexican variety, but the price also convinced me to stick to one in each bar.

During my career in the Marines, I could consume a dozen beers without an adverse reaction, but that was the diluted beer served on military bases. For now, I was going to confine myself to a maximum of three of those Mexican beers until I knew more about them. I was concerned about the trouble that I could get into if I got too tipsy.

I left the tavern with no useful information, but I really had not expected much. This particular place was too far out into the boondocks to have much going on around it. Maybe I would have better luck next time.

Late that afternoon, I pulled into an average size town with three saloons. I remember my grandfather saying that you could tell how prosperous a town was by the number of saloons and whore houses that were located there. I was not interested in whore houses, but the three saloons did interest me. I registered at the hotel and put up my horse in the livery stable before supper.

This time, I went to a Mexican restaurant and had a good meal with Mexican beer at a reasonable price, even though I was obviously a gringa. My Mexican Spanish was not perfect because I had not used it in so many years, but the people in the restaurant took an interest in me because I made an effort to improve my command of the language as I talked to other patrons.

I was sitting off to one side of the restaurant so that my back was not to the door. That, by the way, was something that I had learned on my first tour in Afghanistan and not something new. Anyway, my attention was suddenly caught up when two men came into the restaurant. They were armed with half a dozen or so pistols and a couple of knives, each. Not only that, the conversation in the restaurant suddenly died when the men came in.

Uh-oh, I could smell trouble, and I was liable to be the star attraction. I kept quiet and waited to see what would happen. I was still not hiding the fact that I was a woman and my shirt easily demonstrated that my breasts were on the larger size. I am a 38DD, and I usually show that I am nothing less when I move my arms around.

I caught the eye of one of the men, and he pointed me out to his companion. Again, it was obvious that I was a gringa and not accompanied by a man. I guess that these two fools figured that meant that it was open season on me. They had been headed for the counter where one paid his bill, but these two were much more interested in me at the moment. They approached my table as if they owned the world and everybody knew it.

They spoke Spanish, of course, but I will translate it.

One said, “Ah, Senorita, I am pleased to see you visiting such a glorious establishment as this one. Surely, you would like for such handsome men as my friend and me to join you.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I have been enjoying the food in solitude and have no interest in company. It would please me greatly if you two found some other place to be.”

“Oh, now, Senorita, you have not even met either one of us and yet you would send us away without a chance to enjoy our company. Such would be a great tragedy for you.”

I could see that this encounter was definitely leading to trouble. I eased my left hand into my lap while I still held my fork in my right hand. Neither one of the men had been able to see my guns, so they probably assumed that a woman, even one alone, would be unarmed. I slowly and carefully drew my revolver from my left holster and got ready to shoot the moment either man made a wrong move.

“Look, you peon, I have tried to be polite to you, but you have now irritated me more than I wish to happen when I am enjoying an excellent dinner. Now, both of you leave before you create more trouble than you can handle.”

“Very well, Senorita, if you are going to take that attitude, then we will do the same. Come with us right now to an upstairs room where we will take pleasure in giving you the benefit of our most manly delights. Now, come with us!”

“No, get out of my sight before I truly loose my temper!”

The man who had been doing all of the talking for their side reached for my arm while the other man drew a knife. Okay, that was the breaking point. If I did not react at this point, the least that could happen to me would be a rape by both men, and they might well slit my throat afterward.

Just as the spokesman touched my arm, I fired a bullet into his gut. Of course, he screamed in pain. The other man acted for a moment as if he were surprised, but recovered and tried to reach me with his knife. The table was too wide to make that practical, and I fired another bullet into his belly. He, too, screamed in pain and joined his friend on the floor.

I turned to the waitress and said in my calmest voice, “I am sorry, Senorita, to have disturbed your customers and your establishment by shooting those two lowly peons, but they forced me into doing it. I hope that you will forgive me. Please have someone fetch the marshal so that the problem can be cleared up.”

“Oh, Senorita, you have done nothing wrong as far as we are concerned. Those were two very evil men who caused a lot of trouble among our community. We are very grateful for your action in eliminating two men who were murderers and rapists and thieves. You will always be welcome here, and we will do anything we can to help you.

“Please do not call in the marshal. He generally ignores us and leaves it to us to handle our own problems. We will dispose of the bodies and have a celebration afterward. You, of course, are invited to attend as a guest of honor.

“Pedro, clean up this mess. The senorita has earned our gratitude, and we should make her as welcome as possible.”

Immediately, a man came out of the kitchen and started to pull one of the bodies back that way. Three other men jumped from seats at tables or stools at the bar to help with getting rid of the bodies. It seemed like only seconds before both bodies were out of sight and a woman was on her knees with a pail of water and a cloth cleaning up the spilled blood.

The waitress said, “Senorita, those two men were forcing us to pay them two double-eagles a week not to tear up our restaurant. They were doing the same to other businesses in our part of town. We are all in your debt more than we can ever repay, and we thank you for what you have done. The word is already being spread about your victory today, and you will never be called gringa again in this town. Instead, you will be called our dear friend. Please tell me your name so that I can repeat it for everybody.”

“I am stunned. My name is Helen Hunt, and I appreciate that you feel the way you do. I am happy that I could be of so much help. Please excuse me while I reload my pistol. I feel very uncomfortable when it is not fully loaded.” The reloading took only a few seconds, much faster than it would have been for most revolvers of the day, and that was one of the reasons that I liked the Starr DA so much.

Very quickly, the tables were moved to the sides of the room and the restaurant was prepared for the celebration. People started joining the crowd inside the restaurant, but I was never pushed or crowded by the people. It was almost as if they considered me as some kind of royalty and were treating me as such. Before the party was over I had drunk five bottles of Mexican beer, and I needed an escort to get me back to my hotel after the party was over.

I learned several new dances, and I had a wonderful time. Even though I hated the reason for it, I would have been happy to party like that at least once a week. Wow, those people knew how to put on a celebration party. That was the most fun I’d had since high school and my loss of virginity following the Senior prom.

The next morning, I slept late and missed breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Kind of shamefully, I went back to the Mexican restaurant of the night before and begged some breakfast. I gave my excuse of not being used to that much Mexican beer so that I had overslept. I received a lot of good natured ribbing at that excuse, but I was served an excellent breakfast and not allowed to pay for anything, just as the way things had gone the previous night.

I must say that those were really nice people, and I hated to leave them, but I did not want to wear out my welcome by hanging around too long. As it was, I left with cries of “come back to see us” and other pleasant calls. I certainly would stop by to see them if I was ever in this neighborhood again.

One of the nicest things about that morning was that I had no hangover! I didn’t know if it were the Mexican beer or something else, but I did vow never to drink anything but Mexican beer if there were ever a choice.

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