How Does Your Garden Grow?
Copyright© 2017 by Mark Gander
Chapter 40
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 40 - David Howard is fed up with his life in the Mafia-controlled state of New Jersey, even if it is the only state with a working government in the post-apocalyptic world that exists since Fireball Day. Between his mob-loving (literally) wife Andrea and his psycho gay ex-friend and boss with benefits, Steven, David is more than ready to call it quits. He just won't get to do it alone.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Fa/Fa Fa/ft Ma/Ma Mult Consensual Gay BiSexual Heterosexual Crime Humor Science Fiction Post Apocalypse Paranormal Demons Cheating Sharing Slut Wife Incest Uncle Niece BDSM DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Rough Group Sex Harem Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Interracial White Male Hispanic Female Indian Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Exhibitionism First Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Squirting Voyeurism Menstrual Play Public Sex Nudism Politics
0915 hours, local time
Saturday, 25 April, 2015
Magnolia Manor
The Free City of Cairo (formerly Cairo, Illinois)
The Prophet David Howard received the news of the last Hell’s Angels forces surrendering to the coalition forces with considerable relief, but also notable concern, “Now begins the quarrel over the spoils of war and victory. I’m particularly concerned about the Justice Party and their fascist tendencies. They could well attack the other partners and instigate a war.”
Tozroman, the demonic member of the Free City’s war council and local, religious, political, economic, and social elite, nodded, “Yes, they might especially attack us or the other Havenite community in Illinois, the one in Wheaton.”
An aide to Colonel Arnette, the militia commander, then arrived in the council chamber, where they gathered after breakfast, reported that Hell’s Angels held by the Justice Party militia are being recruited as soldiers.
The Prophet’s eyes narrowed, “This is exactly what I feared. They seek to consolidate power under the guise of peacekeeping. We must be vigilant. Mayor Barnes, I want you to send word to our contacts in Wheaton, instructing them to bolster their defenses and remain alert. The Justice Party’s victory celebrations may be a ruse to catch them off-guard.”
Mayor Joshua Barnes immediately nodded in agreement and gestured to a young aide standing by the door, “Bring me the secure communications device at once!” The aide hurried off, returning swiftly with a sleek, encrypted phone. Taking the phone, Mayor Barnes called upon his allies in Wheaton, and began to relay the disturbing information.
Just as Mayor Barnes was finishing up his call, another aide burst into the chamber, her face flushed with excitement and urgency. “Your Eminence, Colonel, Mayor!” she exclaimed, “We have received messages from envoys from Wisconsin, the Havenite communities in Missouri, and the Upper Peninsula Free State. They are seeking an audience with you, expressing their desire for closer cooperation with the Free City of Cairo.”
The Prophet and Tozroman exchanged glances. This was not entirely unexpected news. The alliances formed during the war against the Hell’s Angels had brought them newfound respect and influence, and it appeared that others were recognizing the strategic importance of the Free City as a bastion of stability in the Midwest.
The room buzzed with the implications of these developments. The aide who had brought the news of the Justice Party’s recruiting tactics leaned in, her voice low but insistent, “Your Eminence, the situation is escalating rapidly. If the Justice Party manages to assimilate the former Hell’s Angels into their forces, they could become an even greater threat to the region.”
The Prophet nodded solemnly, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation, “We must act swiftly to ensure our allies are prepared for any eventuality. Colonel Arnette, please assess our military capabilities and prepare a report for the council on the potential threats we may face from the Justice Party. Make sure that we have a reception for these emissaries as well.”
The latest aide’s revelation about the emissaries from Davenport, Des Moines, Dubuque, and Council Bluffs added another layer of complexity to the already tense situation. These cities, though not directly involved in the recent conflict, had significant interests in maintaining regional stability and trade routes along the Mississippi River. The Prophet knew that their interest in Cairo signaled a shift in the balance of power in the area. “We are indeed becoming a beacon of hope in these troubled times,” he murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
Turning to the flustered aide, he said, “Thank you for bringing this to our attention. Your diligence is appreciated. Now, I want you to extend our warmest welcomes to these envoys and prepare suitable accommodations for them. Ensure that their stay is comfortable and that our hospitality reflects the values of our city. We shall host a reception in their honor the evening of their arrival, so make the necessary arrangements without delay.” The aide nodded eagerly, scribbling notes on a pad before scurrying out of the room to carry out the Prophet’s orders.
The council members shifted in their seats, the tension palpable as they contemplated the potential alliances and enemies forming around them. Sergeant Major Copper spoke up, his deep, resonant voice cutting through the murmurs, “The situation in Indiana is most concerning. If the fighting between factions spreads, particularly between the cities of Gary and South Bend, it could engulf the whole Hoosier State in a level of savagery and atrocity not seen since the first days after Fireball Day.”
“The Bishop of South Bend has made a series of edicts denouncing and condemning the Black Panther republic in Gary. The heavily Catholic community of South Bend seems to be heading for a crusade against the Black Panthers, with a growing risk that the New Democratic Movement in Indianapolis might well side with the latter against the former. The Archbishop of Indianapolis is reportedly pushing back against recent measures by the New Democratic Movement regime there. There are reports of a possible exile for the Archbishop to South Bend or possibly Fort Wayne,” Chief Constable Lars Gunderson informed the council of his own intel.
Tozroman’s eyes flashed, “If the religious tensions in Indiana spill over into an all-out war, it could spread to us. We need to be prepared to mediate or support our allies without getting drawn into a religious conflict that could divide this state as well.”
The Prophet nodded, his expression grave, “Agreed. Colonel Arnette, I want you to establish a line of communication with the National Christian Federation in South Bend, the Black Panthers in Gary, and the New Democratic Movement in Indianapolis. Offer our services as mediators and remind them of the peace and security we’ve managed to maintain here in Cairo. We must not let the same chaos that consumed Indiana repeat itself here.”
As the aide left to carry out his instructions, Mayor Barnes spoke up, “The emissaries from the the Masonic state in Wisconsin and the Upper Peninsula Free State are likely to bring proposals for military and trade agreements. We must be prepared to negotiate with them in good faith, but we cannot let ourselves be drawn into any conflicts that do not serve our own interests. Our first priority is the safety and prosperity of our citizens.”
Colonel Arnette stood up, his hand on the hilt of his sword, “Rest assured, Your Eminence. I will draft a comprehensive plan to address both the local threat from the Justice Party and the dreadful situation in Indiana. We will be ready to defend our city and mediate peace if called upon.”
The room grew quiet as the weight of their decisions settled upon the council members. The Prophet Howard looked around the table, his gaze resting on each of them in turn. “We are the stewards of the future. Let us not forget our duty to guide our people through these troubled waters. Now, let us adjourn to the wine cellar for certain sacred and natural rites.”
After the remaining discussions of the war council, the Cairo elite retired to an expanded cellar to disrobe and prepare for sexual bonding rites.
The cellar was dimly lit with candles, and the air was thick with the scent of incense and wine. The walls were adorned with ancient symbols that predated Fireball Day and the fall of the old world, reminding the participants of the sacredness of the ritual they were about to undertake. The Prophet, as the spiritual leader, took his place at the head of the group, with Mayor Barnes and Colonel Arnette flanking him. Tozroman, the demonic member, remained outside the circle, his presence a silent reminder of the otherworldly power that had been harnessed to protect the city.
Moira Barnes, the mayor’s first wife and a respected leader in her own right, was the first to approach the central altar. With a grace that belied the gravity of the situation, she bent over the stone surface, her back arched and her eyes closed. This was a moment of profound significance for the group, as Moira had always been a symbol of strength and resilience among the local Havenites. Her willingness to participate in this act of unity and submission was a powerful statement of her commitment to the city’s survival.
The Prophet Howard stepped forward, his eyes filled with a fiery determination that seemed to illuminate the shadowy chamber. He approached Moira from behind, his hand on her shoulder as he whispered the sacred words that would begin the ritual. Her husband, Mayor Barnes, watched with a mix of pride and awe, knowing that this act was not merely a physical one, but a spiritual bond that would fortify them all against the challenges ahead.
The Prophet’s touch was firm and gentle as he entered Moira, her body quivering with the power of their shared faith. The room grew quiet, save for the rhythmic sounds of their union, which echoed through the cellar like a solemn chant. It was a moment of pure communion, a testament to the strength of their alliance and the depth of their belief in their cause.
Prophetess Serena Kurtz, her eyes gleaming with a mix of passion and spiritual fervor, knelt behind Moira, her tongue tracing the delicate line of her ass as the Prophet continued his rhythmic strokes. The intimate act served to heighten the tension in the room, each member of the council drawn into the sacred ritual, their own desires melding with the collective need for unity and protection.
Moira’s moans grew louder as the Prophet’s thrusts grew more intense, her body responding to the dual sensations of being filled and pleasured by her spiritual leaders. The air was charged with energy, a testament to the profound connection that had been forged between the participants. Each member of the council felt the power of their bond grow stronger with every touch, every shared breath, and every shared moment of pleasure.
As the Prophet reached his climax, filling Moira with his seed, she let out a guttural cry that seemed to resonate through the very walls of the cellar. Her body convulsed with pleasure, her muscles tightening around him as she experienced a powerful orgasm that seemed to shake her very soul. The Mayor, unable to resist the raw, primal energy in the air, stepped forward, taking his place behind his wife. With a nod from the Prophet, he entered her, her wetness making way for his own urgent need.
Mayor Barnes fucked his wife with considerable delight, his movements mirroring the Prophet’s earlier rhythm. His eyes locked with hers in the mirror, a silent testament to their unyielding love and commitment to each other and the city they served. The Prophet stepped aside, watching the erotic scene unfold before him, his own desires now redirected to Serena.
The Prophet’s gaze fell upon the stunning Prophetess Serena, her skin glistening with the sweat of arousal. He approached her from behind, his own cock standing tall and proud, eager to claim her as part of the sacred rite. Gripping her hips firmly, he whispered in her ear, “Tonight, we shall ensure our bonds are as unbreakable as our faith.”
Serena shivered at his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt him enter her from behind. Her body was already primed from watching Moira’s passionate union with the Prophet, and she moaned deeply as he began to move. The sound was like music to his ears, and he picked up his pace, driving into her with the same fervor that had claimed the Mayor’s wife moments before.
Mayor Barnes’s eyes never left his wife’s reflection as he pumped into her, feeling the heat of the Prophet’s seed within her. His own orgasm was building, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he added his contribution to the sacred act. With a grunt, he slapped Moira’s ass, the sound echoing through the cellar as he reached his peak.
The Prophet, in turn, watched the Mayor’s display with approval, his own strokes becoming more vigorous as he felt the climax approaching. He leaned down and slapped Prophetess Serena’s ass with a similar force, the sound of flesh on flesh punctuating the symphony of moans and grunts that filled the room.
Serena’s body jolted at the slap, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out too loudly. The Prophet’s touch was like a brand, searing her with a mix of pain and pleasure that sent her spiraling over the edge. She came hard, her inner walls clenching around him as he continued to pump into her. The room spun around her, and she felt a deep, profound connection to the others in the chamber, their shared energy swirling around them like a maelstrom of lust and power.
The Colonel watched the scene with a mix of envy and anticipation, his hand idly stroking his own cock as he awaited his turn. The ritual was a reminder of the unity they shared, a bond that went beyond mere political alliances. It was a declaration of their willingness to do whatever it took to ensure the survival of their city and their people.
Moira’s orgasm washed over her like a wave as he spilled his seed, her body trembling with the force of it. She could feel the warmth of her husband’s seed deep inside her, and the knowledge that she was bearing the essence of their leader brought her an immense sense of pride and satisfaction. As Mayor Barnes reached his peak and pulled out of her, she collapsed onto the altar, her legs shaking uncontrollably.
Prophetess Serena, feeling the Prophet’s growing urgency, pushed back against him, her own orgasm approaching like a storm. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she felt him swell within her, and with one final, desperate thrust, he reached his climax, filling her with his warmth. The Prophet and Prophetess came together at last, their combined release a potent symbol of the unity of the Havenite leadership.
As the Prophet David Howard pulled out of Serena, Mayor Joshua Barnes, his own arousal at a peak from witnessing the sacred act, stepped forward eagerly. Without a word, he took his place behind the gasping Prophetess, his eyes gleaming with desire and power. With a nod from the Prophet, Mayor Barnes thrust into Serena, claiming her in a show of dominance and unity that was as much political as it was erotic.
The Colonel, now fully erect, approached the exhausted but still willing Moira, who bent over the altar, her body glistening with sweat and the remnants of the Prophet’s essence. The Prophet looked at Colonel Arnette, his eyes filled with a command that was unmistakable. “Take her,” he instructed, his voice resonant with the power of his divine authority.
Without hesitation, Colonel Arnette positioned himself behind Moira. He could feel the heat of the Prophet’s and Mayor’s seed within her, and the idea of joining with her in this sacred union only served to bolster his own arousal. He pushed into her, feeling her tighten around him as she adjusted to his girth. Moira moaned softly, her body already stretched and sore from the previous two men, but she found the strength to push back against him, eager to serve the needs of the council and the city they all held dear.
The Colonel’s rhythm was deliberate and powerful, a stark contrast to the gentler touch of the Mayor and the Prophet. He pounded into her with the precision of a man who knew the art of war and applied it to every aspect of his life, including the sacred rites of their Havenite community. Moira’s moans grew louder as the Colonel’s strokes grew more forceful, her body responding to his command even as it trembled with the effort of enduring his relentless passion.
Elena Gunderson, the Chief Constable’s first wife, watched the scene unfold with an increase of anxiety and enthusiasm. Her own desires had been stirred by the ritual, and she knew that her turn was approaching. The Prophet’s gaze fell upon her, and she felt a thrill of arousal and excitement as he beckoned her to the altar.
With trembling legs, Elena stepped forward, her heart racing as she took her place beside Moira and Serena. The Prophet bent her over, her breasts pressing against the cold stone. She could feel the warmth of the other women’s bodies and the sticky residue of their unions on the altar beneath her. The Chief Constable, her husband, stepped aside, his eyes filled with a mix of admiration and desire as he watched the Prophet claim her.
The Prophet’s touch was firm yet gentle as he positioned himself behind her, his cock nudging her wet folds. He whispered words of comfort and encouragement into her ear, reminding her of her duty and her role in the sacred rite. Elena took a deep breath, bracing herself as she felt him begin to enter her. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that she had been trained to endure and embrace.
With each thrust, the Prophet claimed Elena’s body, his movements a silent testament to the unity of the council. Her cries grew louder, mingling with the sounds of Serena and Moira’s passion, creating an erotic symphony that filled the cellar. The Chief Constable, watching his wife’s submission with a mix of pride and desire, stepped forward to claim her mouth with a searing kiss.
Elena’s eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the Prophet’s cock fill her to the brim, the pressure building within her as he took her to new heights of ecstasy. The room was a whirlwind of limbs and flesh, each participant lost in the sacred ritual that bound them together. The Chief Constable’s kiss grew more urgent as he tasted the sweetness of his wife’s mouth, feeling her body respond to the Prophet’s touch.