Joy meets her new neighbor

The train ride between Indianapolis and Chicago is short, but gives Atticus, Catty, and me a chance to catch up. Atticus says that we’ll still have to research the society for specifics, but from what he’s seen there shouldn’t be any legal problems with us in Mishigami. They don’t **** women to breed, and women are free to move about and do what they want to. He did warn me that men will be offering themselves to please me though, especially since I wasn’t married. He was given a class on making sure he was always available to ensure women’s pleasure near him. The part of Atticus’ class that gave me relief though is that he was explicitly told that he had to respect a woman’s decision. She could decide she didn’t want the company or pleasure of any particular man. In other words, while I might be propositioned by nearly every man I see, I could turn them all down and they’d have to respect my wishes.

Much like the Free Union where we started our strange journey, Atticus was expected to get a job. The ratio of men to women was still vastly leaning toward men and women were to be protected, pleased, and only expected to bear and raise children.

Catty and I barely had time to share what we’d gone through before the train pulled into the Chicago station. The train must have been going as fast as the one leaving Azadistan as the roughly two-hundred-mile trip took only twenty minutes. When we disembarked there was a man wearing casual pants and a polo shirt holding up a sign with our names on it. He introduced himself as Konnor Devereux and explained that he was a social worker and would be helping us mesh into the Mishigami society.

As Konnor guides us up and out onto the street, I’m inundated with reminders of the Chicago I remember and the 500 plus years that must have transpired between then and ‘now’. At the street I see that we’re coming out of the same Union Station that I’d used before, but the entire downtown skyline looks different. While there are plenty enough tall buildings to block the site of lake Michigan, none of them are familiar. There’s no Sears Tower or Riverside Plaza. There’s no John Hancock Center or Trump Tower. But unlike the dystopian Dallas we’d come from, no buildings here looked bombed out or ready to fall over. They were all new. I had to do a double take when I saw the familiar Chicago flag. At first it looked the same with its two blue lines representing the river and the lake but instead of the four six pointed red stars, there were six. And the fifth star was ominously black.

The streets appeared nearly the same as what we’d have seen in our time. Concrete at my best guess. But while there were personal and public transportation vehicles… cars and busses… they weren’t like anything from our time. I couldn’t think of a way to describe them until Konner pulled us into one of them and we were zipping through the streets in it. Catty had the perfect vernacular to describe it. Retrofuturism. Once she said that, I had all kinds of images come to mind from the sociology classes at UCLA. Atom Punk and Raygun Gothic primarily came to mind as I looked at all the bubble shaped cars with their fins and points and curves. All the vehicles here looked like they were designed in the 1970s or 1980s as “futuristic”. Once I got that in my head I couldn’t stop thinking of our vehicle, with its large, curved glass canopy top, as a Jetson’s flying car. It particularly helped that while some of the vehicles had wheels, no vehicle actually touched the ground. Instead, they simply floated inches above the concrete surface.

There wasn’t too much traffic, but we did travel north quite a way. I didn’t have to have a history lesson to see that the whole of Chicago had been changed and likely leveled in the war. None of the buildings were familiar and instead of the city going for miles and miles, it quickly grew shorter and more spartan. By the time the neighborhoods were full of individual family homes, I thought we must be around where Evanston was until I saw the monument. I made a mental note to come back and see what they were commiserating with the old Wrigley Field.

When we pulled into our new homes, I was immediately reminded of 1950s mid-century modern tract houses. But where those were all 80 or 90 years old in our age, these all looked like they’d been built in the last six months. The lawns were brand new, the trees were all small, and there was very little individuality between the houses.

Konnor led us into Catty and Atticus’ house first. It was spartanly furnished but would suit their needs just fine. While Catty and Atticus looked around their home, Konnor guided me to the next house down which was mine. Like Catty and Atticus’ home, it had some furniture while still feeling empty and new.

At the door Konnor smiled at me before leaving. “Miss Williams, I can’t express just how happy we are to have you here. I hope you’ll find us all welcoming and willing to help your transition. I know it’s going to be quite the culture shock. I haven’t fully read through your files yet, but I did see that you’re from the Eastern Coalition and spent some time in both the Free Union and Gilead. Unlike any of those places, your freedom and happiness are our utmost concerns. I’ll let you settle in for the next few days, but I’ll stop by and check on you soon. If you have any questions, you can contact me at any time. Just use the phone there on the wall or ask any man to use his portable phone. Here’s my card with my office address, office phone, and portable phone numbers.”

Konnor held out a business card and I was again shocked at just how much this society was like our own. But as I took the card, I got a big reminder that our societies were dramatically different in certain ways. As soon as the card was out of Konnor’s hand, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in close. As if we were two people in an intimate relationship, he held our bodies close. With one hand on my ass and the other cupping the back of my head I was pulled against Konnor’s body, my breasts crushing against his chest. I looked up to him but any question that I intended to ask was quickly taken away. “Konnor I… MMMmmph!!”

Konnor’s cupping hand pulled my face to his letting his lips press against mine. My attempt to say something was rewarded by Konner’s tongue sliding into my open mouth and kissing me deeper and more lovingly. Just as I pulled my arms up to push him away, I remembered that this was yet again another new society with its own quirks and social rules. Since disembarking the train in Indianapolis, everybody talked about men serving women with pleasure and Konner wasn’t exactly exuding malice while kissing me. This must be what they meant.

Inwardly I tried to relax and lean into this man’s kiss and push away any complaints about the assumed familiarity. Konner ended up kissing me for almost three solid minutes. With the way his hands wandered over my body, my ass, my back, my neck, and the way he kept our bodies moving against each other, especially my nipples brushing over his chest, I was both aroused and breathless when he finally broke the kiss. When he did finally pull away, he acted as though we’d done nothing more intimate than shake hands. “Well, have a good evening, Miss Williams. Let me know if I can help in any way, at any time!”

Before I could say anything more, he turned and left. I didn’t exactly want to see Catty and Atticus like this, having to explain how our social worker just made out with me like we were teenagers, so I turned and quickly walked back into the house.

A quick scan of the kitchen showed that there were basic cooking supplies like pots and pans, dishes and silverware, glasses and serving platters. The pantry had basic foods like flour, rice, sugar, spices, canned goods, bread, beans, and pasta. The refrigerator had several cold beverages, eggs, meat, and cheese. The freezer had what looked like heat-and-serve meals, and the counter had a bowl of fresh fruit.

Taking a mental accounting of the food situation had calmed my heart down to its normal resting rate. That, however, was spiked back up to alarming levels when I heard the loud, confident, and deep “Hello There Neighbor!” come from behind me.

There are a lot of things that I’ve found different from being a man. Physically I was smaller and weaker. My breasts, hips, and ass all changed my center of gravity and made me move differently. My long hair had me constantly flipping my head or sweeping my hand under it to keep it in control. And of course, the core physical differences have been taken advantage of fully both in the Free Union’s coupling chamber and Isiah’s bedroom in Gilead. But throughout all of this, I still didn’t feel like a woman or a girl. That is I didn’t feel like a girl until I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a little scream and jumping at the man’s voice behind me.

I felt the embarrassed blush coloring my cheeks even before my heels were back on the ground. Shamed both for the shock of surprise and the pure feminine action of letting out a girly squeal. Turning around, I try to keep a calm face as I see what I assume to be my neighbor.

My first impression was that he was nice looking. He wasn’t the silver fox that Isiah was, nor did he have an Adonis-like body that Atticus possessed. But he wasn’t bad looking at all. Maybe in his thirties with a clean-shaven face and broad shoulders. His shorts showed off his hairy, fit legs and his baggy t-shirt hinted that he might be carrying around some extra weight on his waist.

He held up both of his hands as if to show me he wasn’t a threat as he said “Whoa, sorry there Miss. I didn’t mean to startle you. I chatted with your social worker before he left and saw your door wide open. I just wanted to come in, say hi, and welcome you to the neighborhood!”

While my heart started working towards its normal rate, I **** a smile on my face and held out my hand for a shake, “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting anybody and it’s been a rough few days. I’m Joy. Joy Williams. I guess my social worker told you that I’m new to town then.”

The man took my hand, but like Konnor, used it to pull me into a more intimate embrace than I was expecting. I thanked my stars that he didn’t seem to want to kiss me and instead simply held me in a close hug, rubbing at my back, as he said “That’s right. He said you’d been in Gilead, and I can’t imagine how awful that had to be. I guess if I were a girl looking like you coming from a place like that, I’d be scared of men too.”

With a final pat to my back my neighbor turned me while keeping his arm around my shoulder and started guiding me toward the front door. I went along cheerily, figuring he was going to leave. “So, my name is Bradley Atwood. I live with my son Kylan. I’m sure you’ll know him when you see him as he looks like a younger version of me, but he’s not 18 yet so just treat him like any other child in the neighborhood. In fact, I’ll send him over tomorrow. He can help you with chores and things.”

I tried to deny having this man’s son come over and help out, but he gave me a reassuring squeeze and just continued on. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Kylan will love helping out a beauty like you. He helped Mrs. Jackson down the road last year until she got married and her husband picked up the slack.

When we got to the foyer Bradley turned us toward the living room instead of heading to the front door. “Now, Mr. Devereux told me you might need a hand getting acclimated to our society and I promised I’d help you out as best as I could. So, just to be clear… and I’m not saying you would… but you can’t have sex with Kylan. Sexual relations are for adults only. I’ve heard the Eastern Coalition has a really different way of looking at this, but here it’s strictly 18. Kylan’s a boy and you’ll need a man.”

I let my mouth hang open for a moment as I tried to figure out a proper response to such an overt warning. I honestly had no idea what this man must be thinking of me but figured ‘going along’ was still the best option and finally said “Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll leave Kylan alone and make sure to look for a man instead.”

The living room has a mid-century modern motif and layout that matches the style of the home. There was a large empty bookshelf that dominated a full wall with a long couch sitting in front of it. There was a smaller, cozier, squared off love seat and a similarly squared off chair to either side of the couch. The sofa and loveseat were both upholstered in a tufted orange velvet while the chair was covered in a warm brown leather. The chair was the obvious ‘command’ seat and Bradley took a seat there with a chuckle. “Oh, you don’t need to look for a man, Joy. That’s why I’m here!”

My eyes widened, hoping he wasn’t talking about what I thought he was….

“Mr. Devereux said you’d gone through some **** breeding issues in both the Free Union and Gilead and might be a little jumpy about having sex your first night, so unless you expressly want it, I don’t plan on taking you up to your bedroom.”

I started letting out a sigh of relief, but it caught in my throat as Bradley continued, patting his lap as he spread his legs wide “Instead, I figured we’d let you focus on pleasing me instead of true carnal sex. I know they don’t do it in the Free Union, and they consider it perverted in Gilead… but tell me, have you ever tried giving oral pleasure to a man?”