How Does Your Garden Grow?
Copyright© 2017 by Mark Gander
Chapter 58
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 58 - 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
2100 hours, local time
Saturday, 20 June, 2015
Dubuque County Courthouse
Dubuque, Iowa
“So, Russell Rao has lost Lawrence again to the Nation of Islam forces, Beatrice has fallen in Nebraska to us and our Omaha allies, and Osage City is now ours in Kansas. The enemy is caught in a tightening vise now, engulfed on all sides. Our air strikes, limited as they are by fuel restrictions, have further crippled that bastard and his so-called ‘Army of the Union,’ of course,” Tozroman, the demon Secretary of War, briefed the Prophet David Howard, interim Governor of Iowa Free State, during their war council.
“And our brethren in Missouri have pushed deeper into New Covenant territory, shrinking the one ally that Rao has these days,” Lieutenant Governor Casper Novak added now, “Laclede, General Pershing’s hometown has been captured by our friends in eastern Missouri.”
“The Nation of Islam forces have taken Lexington back from the Army of the New Covenant, thus giving them back some critically needed territorial depth,” the Prophetess Serena Kurtz-Howard, the Prophet’s German half-sister and one of his wives, informed her brother-husband.
The Prophet smiled at the good news, his fingers steepled beneath his chin like a spider weaving its web.
“Their capital bleeds first,” he murmured, then raised his voice to a razor’s edge. “Scramble the F-16s. Jefferson City gets hit tonight. Let Rao choke on the collapse of his only ally.”
Static hissed through the radio mounted on the war table before a tinny voice burst through: “—repeat, New Covenant clerics executed seven NOI prisoners by immolation in St. James, Missouri—”
The Prophet’s knuckles whitened around his ceremonial dagger, “The Nation of Islam are about as wicked of an ally for us as Stalin and the Soviets for Churchill and FDR, but that is no justification for burning people at the stake ... gruesome, barbaric medievalism here!”
“Meanwhile, Reverend Kelsey Wallace is sending more of her Triumphant Army soldiers as cannon fodder for her wannabe statewide theocracy, trying to take Frankfort, Kentucky from the western and central Kentucky coalition of communities,” Second Lieutenant Daniel Orange provided more intelligence now.
“Solid work, Lieutenant,” the Prophet beamed at the news of what a hot mess the firebrand Holiness preacher and theocratic tyrant had made of her own cause.
“As for Canada, Brockville and Smith’s Falls in Ontario have surrendered to the Michigander Coalition, thus practically sealing the southeastern border with Quebec. The Sacred Dominion, under Brother Antoine and his Church of the New Grace, has effectively lost all of Ontario to the Michigander Coalition and the Army of the Prairie coming eastward from western Canada,” Melanie Howard, one of the Prophet’s many wives, updated him now.
“Their forces in Quebec are collapsing rapidly on most fronts, desperate to hold Saint-Georges, which the Maritime Provinces Coalition are bypassing for now to cut it off and trap the man in his increasingly irrelevant seat of government of a nation that has mostly fallen,” Second Lieutenant Brittany Coleman provided more useful information.
“So, the end of the Sacred Dominion is near, which means that various allies will have to manage the postwar peace,” the Prophet asserted now, “the Commonwealth of Haven is the eight hundred pound gorilla in North America, but we have a distinct role as fellow Havenites governing territory here in the Midwest. As for the Maritime Provinces Coalition and the Michigander Coalition, they will need to share the spoils in a way that allows peaceful coexistence in the aftermath of that war.”
“The Native American Commonwealth in the former Oklahoma has now sealed its border with Arkansas and Missouri, at least for now, emulating the East Texas Republican Army faction that recently did so after capturing Texarkana,” Andrea Howard, the Prophet’s first wife, declared.
“The ongoing violence in Arkansas as well as Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, Kentucky, and Tennessee understandably makes the folks in Oklahoma City nervous. They’re already sealed their entire border with Texas, at least for now. They’re selling their oil mostly to us, which puts another crunch on the foe and gives us more, badly needed fuel for our war machine,” Tozroman continued, of course.
At this moment, the Prophet glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing that it was now past nine thirty PM. Outside, the distant rumble of F-16s taking off from the clandestine airfield near Dubuque signaled the beginning of the Jefferson City strike. The Prophet grinned, imagining Rao’s panic as the first explosions lit up the sky over the capital of his collapsing ally. “Let them burn,” he whispered, “just like their victims in St. James.”
The Prophet was still savoring the distant rumble of jet engines fading into the night when the door slammed open. A courier, wearing a very tight uniform, staggered in clutching a dispatch tube. “From Pine Bluff,” she gasped, collapsing against the war table. Tozroman snatched the tube, unrolled the message, and let out a sound like a blade being sharpened. “The Iron Apostles. Gone. Wiped out near Fort Smith by the New Christian Republic’s shock troops.”
Silence pooled in the room until Novak exhaled sharply. “Josh Duggar’s dead too. Found in the wreckage with his skull caved in by a motorcycle chain.” The Prophet’s grin was visceral now, fingers tapping the table in a staccato rhythm. “Jim Bob’s favorite failure finally did something useful—dying.”
“By all accounts, that’s one less biker gang resisting Duggar, but plenty more are left fighting the Republic of Shabazz and Lewis Harris Peoples,” the courier, Corporal Megan Rivers, continued her report.
The Prophet leaned in, eyes gleaming as he watched how Lieutenant Orange looked at Corporal Rivers and she at him ... definite mutual attraction, nothing new, especially these days.
“Full, hot, total war between Duggar and Peoples is now inevitable. White, Christian nationalism and black nationalism are just not compatible at all,” the Prophet declared before instructing the lieutenant and corporal through gestures to eat some of leftovers from supper now ... together.
As Lieutenant Orange and Corporal Rivers shared some roasted goose, potatoes, and bread, the Prophet studied maps of Arkansas, Missouri, and Kansas spread across the table, tapping Fort Smith, Pine Bluff, and Jefferson City in sequence. His wives exchanged glances—they knew that look. He was calculating, always calculating, the chessmaster seeing three moves ahead while others struggled with the present.
“Continued lawlessness and anarchy in Mississippi and Alabama mean that the biker gangs will likely flee south to those states. It’s going to be one hot mess there for a good while to come,” the Prophet asserted.
“While Indiana and Illinois are that much closer to complete reunification as states, stitching together state governments there at Wheaton and Terre Haute. Mayor Joshua Barnes of Cairo has been named interim Chairman of the Council of State of Illinois Free State and a Reverend Jared Lytton of Fort Wayne is President of the Supreme Executive Council of Indiana Free State. Barnes we know, intimately, of course, but Lytton is a moderate young Episcopalian priest who has led an effective, secular, technocratic administration so far in Fort Wayne since Fireball Day,” Denise Howard told her uncle-by-marriage the Prophet, who was also her husband as well.
“And a new Treaty of Chambersburg seems to have stabilized the situation in Pennsylvania, with a sharp dividing line in and around Harrisburg, the former state capital a partitioned community now. Pennsylvania is basically a neatly divided state now. A formal arrangement between the Keystone Free State and Maryland, Delaware, Virginia, and New Jersey is just around the corner, but at least an accord between the last two Pennsylvania factions or governments exists now, and that is a good beginning,” Clement Howard asserted now, the former car dealer with past Russian and Armenian underworld ties ogling Corporal Rivers as she kissed Lieutenant Orange with sherry on their lips.
“Well, that’s enough for now. Megan, bend over for Lieutenant Orange here, drop your pants and panties to let him hit that from behind,” the Prophet instructed Corporal Rivers now.
Corporal Rivers moaned with delight as Lieutenant Orange took her good and rough from behind, her fingers clawing at the war table’s edge while Novak’s maps crinkle beneath her bare stomach. The Prophet watched with detached amusement, sipping bourbon as the lieutenant’s hips pistoned, and then he grabbed Second Lieutenant Brittany Coleman and entered her for the umpteenth time that week.