Chapter 96

1545 hours, local time,
Thursday, 17 July, 2014
Hinton, West Virginia

“So, this is your town. Something else! Very nice, picturesque, like being dropped into the past in a way. Very charming,” I told Walt Reiner, even as Violet and Vivian hung on his arm.

“Yes, yes, I enjoy it very much. It’s very Americana. This restaurant is a prime example. Excellent hot dogs, Texas Toast, chili, coleslaw, and everything. It’s still a new concept to me, eating slaw dogs, but it works. Not as well as raw dogs, mind you, but it still works pretty damn well,” Charity teased Walt now.

“Raw dogs?” Walt asked, genuinely confused for a second.

“Yep ... raw dogs are the best!” Tara picked up on Charity’s meaning and gestured suggestively, making her intent plain.

“Well, you’re the one who gave us Schumacher Syndrome, so that tracks!” I teased Tara, even getting snickers from the resident angels.

“Sounds nice in theory, but at my age, well, you know. Two women are enough for me, especially my two. My wives, who I hope to legally marry soon. Violet and Vivian are quite the treat. Not bad for principals, of course. I can’t breed them, of course, but consummating the union will be quite the treat. I suppose that Reverend Lennox can officiate or something, or maybe the Prophet himself, assuming that all of us are going to end up in his church,” Walt declared while biting into his slaw dogs and looking through the window at the New River.

“I should baptize you into the new faith, my friend, you and your wives, along with the rest of you. But how do you plan to keep it in your pants around ... you know? Especially given how naked a bunch of us are. Hell, I’ve noticed that many of your citizens, such as the servers here, aren’t wearing any pants. Is that a recent thing?” I observed as the staff walked around in their boxers and panties.

“Oh, yes, that’s picked up steam lately, as of earlier today, as rumors spread through Hinton. It’s officially ‘No Pants Week,’ so as to ... make themselves ... available to you, to all of you. Only those interested are encouraged to do this, and so they wear only their panties or boxers or even less to allow easier access to their holes so you can fuck them silly ... both sexes, too. Don’t worry. They still have ways to buy things, of course. It should really be called ‘Underwear Week,’ since skirts out the window as well,” Reverend Lennox added for his part now.

“So ... all of these people, including at least half of the customers, walking around in their undies, they’re doing that for ... us? So we can easily ... enjoy their sexual favors, for lack of a better phrase? Is that correct?” Emma spoke next, clearly impressed.

That was when I saw a few of the patrons wore only thigh harnesses below the waist with strap-on dildoes attached to them. It wasn’t rocket science what they had in mind. In fact, the more I looked, the more I saw of those, as if it were a trend or fad, even if a minority option compared to the underwear. A number of others wore only undershirts or tank tops, or even bikini tops with no bottoms ... yes, some folks were even naked below the waist, mooning everyone. I didn’t mind, of course. I was just astonished at how many different ways the locals found to invite us to use them sexually.

“Yes, and they’ll be very hurt if you don’t take advantage of them, so please do so. They are acting on impulses that God and us angels have encouraged among them. Yes, we quite deliberately fostered this whole ‘free use’ attitude of theirs. For the present, at least, Hinton is effectively a ‘free use town,’ and it even extends to them fucking each other, of course. It’s just that you guys are their preferred companions, so go for it,” Sonali urged me, even as Trish winked at us.

“Face it, honey. You’re the cock of the block and the walk in these parts. You might as well enjoy it. You can have your pick of the young ladies ... and gents, in case you didn’t catch my earlier drift. Part of your mission is to breed as much as possible and spread your seed, hence why God wants you to tarry for a week here. You and your co-husbands have a sacred duty to hump as many folks as possible and add your DNA, especially YOUR angelic DNA, to the genepool here,” Trish added for her part.

“That is part of his task as a Prophet?” Reverend Lennox asked for clarity’s sake.

“Yes, and to a lesser extent, that of his co-husbands. You’ve seen how many ghost towns this state has, too. It could use a bit more genetic diversity, couldn’t it? By the way, as of this afternoon, the Amazonians have launched an attack on Union, the former county seat, from their stronghold of Alderson. They took the place after some struggle, since the destruction of the gangs left it in some turmoil.

“They killed every male except for those between the ages of fourteen and twenty-one. Those they are keeping as sex slaves, but don’t worry. They’re in for a nasty surprise when they attack Peterstown, thanks to you and to Trevor. Their feminist dystopia not only won’t last, but it can’t. It’s unnatural and unsustainable, after all,” Ariel asserted, making it obvious that he was in charge of this angelic operation.

There was a strong hint of divine intervention as well, but I didn’t wish to unwittingly throw any monkey wrenches into any of Heaven’s plans for the area. They sounded rather useful, in fact. Heaven clearly wasn’t leaving anything to chance right now. What exactly did they plan for Union in the wake of the Amazonian conquest of the place and their inevitable doom? It was as yet unclear on that point, at least.