Welcome to the neighborhood

Chapter 1

You let your Ford Raptor slide smoothly into the driveway of your two-story family home with the green lawn and the red white and blue flag and turn off the smoothly humming engine before getting out. It's early evening, the crickets are chirping in the grass, birds are flying through the clean air and it smells of dinner and freshly mown grass. A wonderful first day in your new life. You look around contentedly in the peaceful Coul de sack that will be your new life from now on. A new home.

Patroit Hills. A small town with just over twenty thousand inhabitants that nestles in the wooded hills of the mountainous foothills and flows into the ocean with its wide beaches. Two highways and several access roads, you already explored this in the first few days here while your family made the new house a home. You will like it here.

With the patriotic feeling of having arrived in a good life, you look up at the symbol that always reminds you of who you are, where you come from and what you want to achieve. You smile, you are not the only one who raises the flag of Cascadia, a white eagle on a blue background with red and white stripes. There are many like you here, most almost as good as you and all interested in becoming like you, a good, loyal, hardworking Cascadian citizen.

"Hey neighbor." You turn to the house next door in the distance, just like yours, painted patriotically white with green lawn around it.

"Evening Bill," you wave to him in a friendly manner. Bill Rollings, you remember, recalling the man's dossier. As part of your new job, you naturally know every one of your neighbors. Maybe that's why Bill has been so accommodating since you arrived. Or maybe he just wants to be a good Cascadian man. "You look good," you compliment the chubby man with sweaty hair and a six-day beard, whose belly is covered in a tight tracksuit. Sweaty and smelly, he comes to a puffing halt in front of you. "Just back from your evening training?"

"You want to look good for V-Day," he grins, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Not that the new police chief of Patriot Hills needed that." You smile politely and ignore the compliment about your toned body. You're all like brothers in Patriot Hills, that's the slogan of the city that you have the privilege of protecting and serving from tomorrow on.

"I still have to clean up my house for that," you admit, pointing to the Ford that's standing next to your Chevrolet Camaro SS and the motorcycle in the clean, wide driveway. The loading area is loaded with wood, metal, tools, equipment and everything a real man needs to work on his house. Bill is impressed.

"I was actually going to ask if I could lend you something," he admits. "Everything is in perfect condition." Of course, you think. You never use it. But you smile kindly.

"I could use a lawnmower," you say. "So that my garden looks as well-kept as yours." At this, Bill smiles until the happy voice of a woman rings out.

"Hubby!" You know his wife from the documents, but in real life she looks even more impressive as she runs out of the house in her white shirt and yellow gloves, arms outstretched and a happy smile on her face.

Bill reaches out and slaps his wife in the face at full speed, knocking her to the ground, whimpering.

"Where have you been all this time!" the overweight man yells at his wife. "Our neighbor could use a drink, you stupid bitch!"

"Yes, Hubby! Right away, hubby!” The woman gets up on shakey legs, bows to her husband, then to you, and runs back into the house as quickly as she came.

“My wife Samantha,” Bill apologizes. “Incredibly stupid and lazy.” In fact, Samantha and her daughter come from the country north of yours, freshly incorporated into the Cascadian Union, like so many countries, and not yet used to the freedom that your system creates. So many other countries are sinking into chaos and resource scarcity, but the Cascadian eagle flies high and proud. “I’m sorry.” But you wave her off and point to your own house.

"No time, Bill," you say, putting your hand on the man's sweaty shoulder. "But don't worry." He still looks disappointed. "But hey, you're coming to my V-Day garden party?" Bill smiles as Samantha stumbles out of the house with two large glasses of lemonade and ice, frantically trying to be quick without spilling anything while her cheek turns red and reveals white marks on her skin. Without paying any further attention to your two neighbors, you turn to the house and hear another piercing thud behind you and two glasses shatter on the floor.

"Too slow again, you cunt! Get into the house and spend two hours on the behavior trainer!"

"Yes, Hubby! Right away, Hubby! I'm so sorry, I'm such a disappointing, lazy, dumb cunt!"

You leave the stammering woman with the task of getting used to the perfect life that Cascadia offers women and step onto your own doorstep. Now comes the best part of the day.

Immediately the door opens and your wife of twenty two years is standing in front of you, a warm smile on her lips, her arms spread out, just like Samantha.

"Welcome home Master," she says softly and smiles lovingly at you as you hug her and think of your hot neighbor. Bill would surely be honored, you think to yourself as your wife takes off your jacket and hangs it on the wall. "Dinner is almost ready. We missed you." Then she gets down on her knees in front of you, takes your hand and kisses it gently before lowering her head and kissing your shoes. "How can I serve my Master?" But you just gesture to get up, pat her head, reach under her chin and lift it gently. She looks at your face lovingly as you do the same. You already want to tell her the news, love her too much to surprise her, but then you are surprised yourself.

"Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy!" Two strong arms wrap around you from behind and cling to you as you turn around in the entrance. Finally, you feel your eldest daughter's firm breasts slide down your back, then you turn around.

"Did you bring me something?" Alex asks cheekily and grins innocently at you, hands clasped behind her back and legs pressed together. Her short jeans shorts and heavily undersized shirt, tied at her back, are exactly the outfit you expected.

"I was shopping for myself, Alex," you admonish her sternly, but your daughter doesn't back down.

"But Daddy..." Your hand wraps around her neck and you push your 21 year-old daughter hard against the wall while your wife good-naturedly watches the scene. Alex gasps and her eyes are filled with fire that burns for you.

"If you didn't fulfill your other duties so well, I would punish you here and now for talking back," you growl in her face, but Alex just grins cheekily, your hand firmly on her neck, stretches out her arms and reaches between your legs with skillful movements. At some point you loosen your grip and Alex takes the opportunity to jerk your cock stiff through your pants, all without losing her grin.

"Hello father," the quiet, reverent voice of your other daughter sounds behind you. You roughly push Alex away from you into the house and turn to the other girl who falls obediently to her feet in front of you, lowers her head to the ground and kneels down in front of the man in the house. "How can I serve you, father?"

"There's my dearest daughter," you say, and while Alex gets up from the floor, you pull Melodie up to you. She looks faithfully into yours with her deep, large eyes, clinging to your every word and gesture and awaiting your judgment of her as is expected of her. "Did you finish your homework while I was away?"

"Yes, father," the girl nods eagerly. "Then I tidied my room, then the bathroom and..." You pull her slim, petite body, wrapped in a light summer jeans and a whide shirt, towards you and press your lips to hers. Your hands greedily lay on her 18 year-old tits and begin to knead them while Melodie sinks into your embrace, moaning. "Thank you for using me, Father," she pants as you separate from her. "I live serve you."

"Let's eat," you finally announce and look at your wife. Then you lead your family into the dining room, but turn to the kitchen before sitting down.

"Master!"

Tammy falls to her knees in front of you and lays her head at your feet. "How can I serve you?" You step over her perfect body and turn off the stove.

"By joining us," you say and pat her head. Then the young woman stands up and grabs the pot of pasta while Melodie hurries into the kitchen and carries the sauce. "I want my pleasure wife with me when I announce the news." And while Melodie's eyes light up with anticipation, Tammy nods dullly and smiles submissively.