To say that Mila was excited when she was handed the keys to the silver BMW Z4 would be an understatement. She followed Peter who was driving his new Mercedes A-Class, who was in turn following Brian and Dianne Hislop who were driving a late model SUV.

When they flew into Redhaven yesterday Mila had been amazed by the wide expanse of the plains below and then the imposing majesty of the snow-capped Rocky Mountains. The town of Redhaven was tucked into the base of the Rockies, elevated above the vast plains on a plateau. Looking through the windscreen of her new car Mila felt that she could reach out and touch the mountains and the big blue sky.

The town was laid out in a grid pattern with the Sons of Jehovah Supreme Temple on a small grassy hillock at the centre. Municipal buildings and the downtown area, what there was of it, circled the hillock and quickly gave way to wide, paved streets with lush manicured lawns, planted shade trees, and McMansions set back from the kerb.

Everything looked clean, bright, and new; from the shiny late model cars in the driveways, to the well-dressed and well-behaved kids playing in the yards. There was no trash, no graffiti, the air was cool and fresh and the sun was shining. Mila couldn’t help but smile. She was worried that leaving the city would be too much of a culture shock but she thought that where else should a brand new person reside than in a brand new town.

Three women dressed in spandex sports attire were jogging on the footpath, their hair in ponytails flying behind them, their pearly-white teeth smiling through bright-red lipsticked lips; one of them was pushing a sports stroller. They waved at the little procession of vehicles as they drove past at a leisurely pace. Some kids riding their bikes on the sidewalk pulled over and gave way to the running women.

The three car cavalcade arrived at a gated community at the edge of the town. A cheery security guard came out and waved them through. Mila would later find the sensor that activated the automatic gate in her glove compartment.

The houses in the community were bigger and statelier than the suburbia they had driven through. They were all two-story ranch-style houses with long driveways, triple garages and small swimming pools surrounded by landscaped gardens. In the middle of the housing cluster was a community centre consisting of a communal swimming pool, tennis courts, a putting green, a kid’s playground and a recreation centre. Across the street was the imposing residence of the Reverend Ronald Hayes.

Brian and Dianne pulled into the driveway of one of the houses furthest from the community centre on the edge of the neighbourhood. Mila pulled in behind Peter.

“There are currently three houses vacant in the community but we chose this residence for you so you have some privacy and not having any kids you won’t need to be near the park,” Dianne looked pointedly at Mila but maintained her fixed smile.

“You are not members of our church but we hope that you like it here in Redhaven and particularly here in Apostle Gardens. Please feel at home,” Brian added.

“Come on let’s go see your new home.”

Brian took Mila by the hand and Dianne took Peter’s and led them across the pathway to the double front doors where a young woman wearing a black dress with white trim, with a full skirt above the knee, white half-apron, tan hosiery and black low-heels awaited them.

“Who is that?” Mila asked.

“That’s Sarah Jennings your housemaid, although I think the modern term is domestic,” Brain answered.

“We don’t need a maid!” Mila snapped and immediately regretted the outburst.

The last thing Mila needed was a domestic worker prying into her business; she had had a huge secret to keep and having a stranger in the house almost permanently put that secret at risk.

Peter glared at Mila and interposed.

“I think what my wife means to say is that as there is only the two of us and she so enjoys looking after my needs that a housemaid might be a little extravagant.”

“Nonsense! We housewives need a break now and then from our domestic duties, I don’t know what I’d do without our au pair. She helps me keep the house just as Brian likes it and minds the kids while I go about my socialising,” Dianna declared.

“It’s nice to have someone to take the kids down the park if Brian comes home for a nooner,” Dianna put her hand to Mila’s ear and whispered but loud enough for the men to hear.

Brain and Dianna grinned conspiratorially at each other.

“Come on; let’s go inside,” Brian said enthusiastically.

“Hello Mr and Mrs Randal, I’m Sarah Jennings and it’s lovely to meet you. I’ll let you look around and introduce myself later,” Sarah gave them both a beaming smile.

Mila just nodded and went inside.

The house was spacious and well lit by natural light streaming in though the large bay windows. On the first floor there was a hallway and two reception rooms, one of which she could see had been set up as an office for Peter. There was a spacious lounge room that gave way to a formal dining room and out back was a huge kitchen with an informal kitchen-diner. Upstairs were three bedrooms. The master bedroom took up half the floor space and had an ensuite bathroom and two his-and-hers walk-in wardrobes. The bed was huge.

There was a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall facing the bed, a dressing area for Mila that included a large vanity table and a separate dressing area for Peter. The remainder of the upper floor consisted of the two remaining bedrooms, another bathroom, a study, and closet space.

“You like?” Dianne took Mila’s hand in hers, squeezed it and smiled.

“It’s wonderful,” Mila returned the squeeze and smile.

“As you saw, we got that workroom set up for you downstairs Pete but us men know the real workroom is right there,” Brian nodded at the bed and grinned.

Dianne giggled.

Again Mila was surprised at their innuendo; weren’t religious people supposed to be pious and reserved?

“As you know the house comes furnished as is, we cover all utilities and maintenance and we also pay for your housemaid’s working hours from eight in the morning until five in the afternoon. Any overtime is on you,” Brian explained.

“We’ll leave you to explore the house and introduce yourself to Sarah. She comes from a good home but hasn’t married yet, she’s a spinster.”

“Spinster? She can’t be more than twenty-two,” Mila was surprised at the use of the word.

Brain gave Dianne a conspiratorial glance and nodded.

“You are not familiar with our faith so I’ll forgive your faux pas. Women in the congregation of the Sons of Jehovah are usually betrothed at eighteen and married by their twentieth birthday,” Dianne explained.

“Those who, for whatever reason don’t marry but wish to remain in the church may stay on and work in the community in suitable conventional employment.”

Mila wondered what suitable conventional employment was but knew better than to ask.

“We’ll leave you now but we will see you tonight. We’re hosting a welcome dinner for you,” Brian leaned in and kissed Mila on the cheek and shook Peter’s hand.

Dianne kissed Peter on the side of the mouth and Mila on the cheek. Mila and Peter followed them downstairs and saw them out.

Sarah was in the kitchen brewing coffee and Mila and Peter went to join her.

She smiled when they came in and indicated two stools at the breakfast bar where she had set up coffee cups and condiments.

“Welcome to Redhaven,” she beaned at them both.

Sarah was about Mila’s size but with a tiny waist cinched by the strings of her apron. She had full beasts that looked like they needed little support, her legs were long and her face was pretty. She wore full makeup and her hair had been recently styled.

“Hello Sarah, I must say it comes as a surprise having you here,” Peter replied.

“But you’d seen the house when you up here last Mister Randal?” Sarah looked confused.

“They showed me where I would be living and took me inside one of the houses, as you know they are all identical except for the Reverend’s. They did not tell me that we would be getting a domestic employee,” Peter explained.

“You can call me your maid; I don’t mind. I guess I am a little surprised they kept that from you,” Sarah smiled.

She came around from behind the breakfast bar and approached Mila.

“Mrs Randal, can I just say that you are one of the most beautiful women I have seen. I love your sense of dress and that modern hairstyle, you are very sophisticated.”

Mila blushed. She was uneasy being this close to another woman for any length of time.

“Thank you Sarah. I can’t possibly think of how we are going to keep you gainfully employed but it is lovely to meet you.”

“Of I’ll keep busy. There’s plenty here to keep clean and I wash, iron, cook and shop if you need it. I’m just happy to be working for you both. Now let me pour you coffee.”

*****

“Fuck!” Mila and Peter were upstairs in their bedroom out of earshot.

“You didn’t know about the fucking maid!” Mila was furious.

“You heard me. It’s their little surprise I suppose,” Peter was genuinely perplexed.

“It’s their little way of spying on us,” Mila hissed.

“You’re paranoid. Every household in Apostle Gardens has a domestic, you heard them.”

“You know what they say Peter; just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you.”

“It’s going to fuck up our domestic arrangements too.”

Peter looked at Mila quizzically.

“I was going to sleep in the second bedroom remember. That little maidservant is going to know everything that happens here. Do you think she’s not going to get suspicious as to why a loving couple rebuilding their marriage sleep in separate beds?”

“Maybe we just get us a bundling board,” Peter said in a poor attempt at humour.

“Yeah, well I guess that bed is big enough for two,” Mila sighed.

“I’m obviously going to have to be careful to make sure that she doesn’t see me naked.”

Peter nodded then they heard a vehicle pull into their driveway. Their personal effects had arrived.

Needless to say Sarah wanted to take charge of unpacking and Mila, not wanting to be confrontational from the start, allowed her to do so.

“Just one thing Sarah. This is going to sound a little prudish put I prefer to unpack my own underwear.”

“And I think I’d feel better if I washed my own lingerie too,” Mila added.

“Sure thing Mrs Randal; I understand. There is something intimate about someone else touching your undergarments and it’s best left only to those we know intimately,” Sarah smiled knowingly.

“You can wash mine though Sarah; I have no objection,” Peter grinned.

“Oh men! Men seem to want women touching their undergarments all the time,” Sarah giggled like a schoolgirl and skipped off down the path to help unload the van.

Mila gave Peter a cautious look but he just shrugged and went back inside. Mila collected the suitcase that contained her lingerie and lugged it upstairs. She chatted with Sarah as she laid out her underwear in the drawers of the walk-in robe while Sarah took her garments one by one from the porta-robes and oohed and aahed over every dress, skirt, and blouse she unpacked and placed on a hanger. Mila heard her squeal and then saw that Sarah had found her Louboutin heels; she smiled and shook her head.

They both unpacked Peter’s clothes and put them away; Peter had retired to the downstairs office and was beavering away.

Retiring back to the kitchen-diner Sarah again offered coffee and Mila took a cup and asked Sarah to join her.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Mila asked.

“Well I don’t know Mrs Randal; I guess that depends what it is?” Sarah sipped her coffee innocently.

“Dianne Hislop told me that daughters of the Sons of Jehovah are usually married by the time they turn twenty.”

“Yes that’s right,” Sarah answered.

“But why? I couldn’t find anything about that in the church literature that Peter gave me read.”

“Not all of the Reverend’s teachings are written down Mrs Randal,” Sarah looked down in her coffee cup not meeting Mila’s eyes.

“Please call me Mila. Mrs Randal is Peter’s mother,” Mila joked.

“Of course Mister Randal’s mother would be Mrs Randal, because she is married to his father,” Sarah didn’t get the joke and was confused.

“Anyway call me Mila, please.”

“Sometimes you have to extrapolate the Reverend’s teachings to find their true meanings. You will have read that he says that all things provided naturally by God are to be enjoyed by men and those that are unnatural are evil.”

Mila nodded, even though she hadn’t.

“So for instance, alcohol is a gift from god, grapes make wine, hops and barley make beer, corn is used to make whiskey right? Whereas drugs are manufactured by scientists and are not natural; ergo men may enjoy alcohol, in moderation of course, but drugs are evil and if you partake you will be excommunicated,” Sarah explained.

Mila decided not to ask if marijuana was considered ‘natural’.

“Sure; go on,” Mila encouraged her.

“A woman’s body is also a gift from god to man and he should enjoy the fruits of her body whenever he feels the need. The caveat is that the man and woman should be married and the woman should be pure when she marries. Women develop the same urges as men; just a little later in their development, so women in our faith are betrothed to a suitable man as soon possible to prevent them from straying from their faith.”

“As the legal age of marriage here in Wyoming is eighteen, most are married as soon as they become of age or earlier. State law allows that girls can be married as young as sixteen if the girl has a notarized consent form signed by their parents to obtain a marriage licence.”

“So as young as sixteen?” Mila asked.

Sarah nodded.

“The church insists that women be married by the age of twenty. The church sees unmarried women as a threat to society; they encourage men to become lustful outside of marriage.”

“You really believe all that?” Mila was incredulous.

Sarah looked at Mila like she was some sort of alien being.

“Oh I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t question your faith,” Mila put out a hand and stroked the back of Sarah’s hand.

Sarah took Mila’s hand in hers and looked into Mila’s deep blue eyes.

“Does that answer your question?”

Mila nodded.

Sarah withdrew her hand and started to clear away the coffee cups. She was putting them in the sink when she spoke, not turning around to look at Mila.

“I didn’t really though did I? I mean I did answer your question but not directly,” Sarah sighed.

“Remember I said the woman must be pure when she marries. I’d like not to talk about this anymore. Can I ask you some questions about California?” Sarah turned the conversation around.

*****

The dinner party that night was a cosy affair. Brian and Dianne Hislop were gracious hosts. Jim and Helen Benson and two other Apostle couples were there. The Hislop’s maid Angie was a dark haired woman in her mid-twenties who wore the same black dress with white trim as Sarah had worn that day. Mila wondered if it was a uniform of sorts but thought it would be rude to ask. She would ask Sarah tomorrow.

It was obvious that the three couples knew each other intimately, although they were as inclusive as they could be with Peter and Mila, some of the conversation was lost on Mila. Peter had a better understanding of the functioning of the church, working as he did with the church’s business and legal affairs.

After the meal the party split into two groups, the men and the women. Mila had to work hard to participate in the conversation; although she felt like a woman she didn’t really think like one yet. She was realising now that women saw things different to men; especially these women.

Mila became bored very quickly; all the women seemed to talk about were their husbands, their children and family and church matters. There was no discussion of anything outside of the church or their community.

Mila tried to break the ice and asked them what was their favourite play was and who was their favourite musical group or performer? Her questions were brushed tactfully aside. What she did notice was the church rule about enjoying alcohol in moderation seemed to be open to interpretation. Two of the four women were putting away cocktails in good order and the other two were no slouches either when it came to drinking wine.

As the women became a little inebriated, their inhibitions loosened and talk turned to sex. Mila was uncomfortable with the conversation, so she just listened.

“Jimmy bought me a bustier and some fully fashioned stockings to go with it last time he went away on business. He insists I wear it just about every night,” Helen Benson said.

“Darn thing is uncomfortable to sleep in but then again, when he gets me to wear it I don’t get much sleep,” she guffawed and the other ladies laughed along with her.

“Robert is pestering me again about doing it the other way again, you know, putting it in the other hole. The last time we did it that way it was ok because Gerald went in first and he’s not too big, I kinda liked it, but Robert is just so damn big! Still that doesn’t seem to worry most of you ladies,” Sharon Gifford, an attractive buxom woman in her thirties offered.

Dianne Hislop gave Sharon Gifford a withering stare and nodded at Mila.

“Oh come on girls… you know when I’m joking!” Sharon laughed raucously and the others joined in.

Smoking was not expressly forbidden by the Sons of Jehovah but women were forbidden to smoke in public. Mila broke away from the group and wandered outside to sneak a cigarette.

She strolled around the Hislop’s gardens. The pool-light shimmered in the cool evening breeze and was reflected up onto the shade trees. Mila leaned against a big cottonwood and lit up.

Mila was wearing a black cocktail dress, her favourite black heels and sheer black pantyhose. She had taken off her heels, dangling them from the straps, and the grass felt cool and dewy under her stocking feet. Suddenly a rectangle of light was strewn across the garden; someone had opened the back door. A woman came outside followed by a man. Mila wondered why they had come outside; the men were smoking cigars in Brian’s study so there was no reason for the man to come outside for a smoke, maybe the woman was going to sneak a cigarette.

“Can’t you wait until later Jim?”

Mila recognised the voice; it was the Hislop's au pair Angie. Her black maid’s uniform effectively camouflaged her but as they got closer Mila recognised Jim Benson who had had taken off his jacket.

Mila figured that she too was camouflaged being dressed all in black. She flattened herself against a tree. Mila was in a dilemma; she didn’t want to stay but she was scared that if she moved she would be seen and accused of spying on them.

“Get your ass over here Angie,” Jim Benson hissed, pulling Angie into his arms.

“Not here. Not now,” Angie seemed to beg.

“I’m just taking what I’m entitled to,” Jim kissed Angie and she let him, her arms hung listlessly by her side.

“Ok, we haven’t got all night,” Angie said reluctantly.

Jim spun Angie around and kicked her heels apart. She leaned against a tree and bent over, offering Jim her behind. Jim was unzipped and from what Mila could see was sporting a very useful erection.

“That’s a good girl,” Jim lifted Angie’s ruffled skirt out of the way and rubbed his hard prick on her panty-clad buttocks.

Angie wriggled her backside appreciatively.

“Hurry up,” Angie whispered.

She pulled down her panties and pantyhose, bunching them around her thighs.

Jim stepped between her legs and entered her, holding onto her hips as he began to fuck her. Angie grunted every time he thrust himself inside her. At first Mila thought he was hurting her but she soon realised that Angie was moaning. Angie had a hand between her legs and was pleasuring herself while Jim Benson vigorously fucked her.

“Ok, here we go!” Jim pulled Angie hard against his groin and ground himself against her buttocks, obviously ejaculating.

Angie worked her hand furiously against her sex and pushed back against Jim and moaned. She writhed and wriggled increasing Jim’s pleasure and undoubtedly orgasming herself.

They remained still for what seemed to be an eternity to Mila, tied together like mating hounds. Finally Jim pushed Angie away from him and she leaned back against the tree panting. She reached down and rolled up her pantyhose, pulling the gusset high on her waist and then she pulled up and smoothed her panties, while Jim put himself away and zipped his flies.

“Are you going to want me again tonight?” Angie asked.

“What if I am?” Jim replied harshly.

“Then I might not bother washing,” Angie took Jim’s hand and put it between her legs and grinned at him.

“You are one dirty woman Angie,” Jim sniggered and withdrew his hand from her undergarments.

Angie pulled down her ruffled skirt and followed Jim Benson back inside.

When the door closed and it was once again completely dark Mila sighed with relief. She had her hand under her dress and had been rubbing her cock through her panties, watching Jim and Angie go at it. Mila hadn’t had sex for a while now and she was quite concupiscent. She would have liked to have finished herself off but the risk of getting semen on her black dress outweighed the brief pleasure she would take. She would have to wait until she got home.

Mila tucked and re-taped herself and then went back inside to join the ladies.

“I know where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing,” Dianne Hislop whispered into Mila’s ear.

Mila froze. She was panicking inside herself.

“I can smell it on you. Next time you sneak outside for a smoke take me with you,” Dianne smiled conspiratorially.

Around ten PM it was obvious to Peter and Mila that the others were anxious for them to leave. The host and hostess told them that they would finish off the evening with an SOJ ritual in which outsiders could not participate. They were both more than happy to go and relieved that they didn’t have to make an excuse to leave the party early.

When they got home Peter went into his office to work and Mila went upstairs to the bedroom, stripped down to her panties and put on a nightie and opened her laptop. She browsed her bookmarks and opened a webpage that featured a mature transvestite dressed in sexy lingerie being vigorously fucked by a man. She slid a stocking over her erect penis and relieved herself into it. She would wash and dry it the next day but for now she was exhausted and she turned out the lights, pulled up the comforter and was asleep almost immediately.

*****

Six months into their lives at Redhaven, Peter and Mila had set routines. Mila got up early, donned her stylish lycra running tights and went for a run often passing other residents doing the same. By the time she came home Peter was shaved, showered and was suited, ready to start his long day at the business centre at the Sons of Jehovah Supreme Temple.

This meant Mila could take her time in the bathroom and at her vanity getting her makeup perfect and selecting an outfit for the day. Although Mila was not employed by the SOJ nor attended their services, she did socialise and very early on she learned that SOJ women did not dress down. She knew that one of the most important tenets of the SOJ was that a woman’s place in life was to please their man and a principle of that tenet was to always be pleasing to the eye.

Peter and Mila had breakfast together and were often joined by Sarah Jennings who usually arrived early and made coffee and pancakes.

Peter and Mila’s sham marriage had become almost like a real marriage except of course for the sex, and Mila’s deep, dark secret. With a secure income and the trappings of his position Peter had become somewhat domesticated. He had grown to respect Mila and she him. They presented as a loving couple to the outside world but gave each other space at home.

Mila would kiss Peter and send him off to work and start her day.

Mila knew that if she didn’t get some structure to her life, despite the trappings of wealth, she would soon go stir crazy, isolated as she was in Redhaven.

Her specially designed swimsuit came in handy as did the sports bras. She joined the other ladies for tennis and swimming and had afternoon tea at the community centre which was like a small country club. She bought herself a Gibson acoustic guitar and entertained herself playing and singing songs that suited her recently developed feminine raspy and breathy voice. She kept in touch with Steven Boutros via email and text and the occasional phone call.

What she did miss was sex. Mila was still confused regarding her sexuality. She had enjoyed the frottage and fellatio with Steven but still found herself attracted to some of the women in Redhaven but of course she had no intention of attempting to have a relationship with any of them. She had to resort to masturbation for relief and increasingly found herself on websites where submissive transvestites were being taken by masculine men. She wondered what it would be like to play the female role in penetrative sex.

Regardless of her fears and misgivings, she and Sarah Jennings actually developed a friendship. Despite Sarah’s claim that she would keep herself busy, there was only so much housework she could do and she and Mila had coffee and long conversational interludes during the afternoon.

Sarah was inquisitive about life outside or Redhaven and about Mila’s life in particular. Mila was cautious but easily able to recount the life of her sister, which she appropriated as her own, until she married Peter and then she used the vignettes that Peter had provided her about his and Mila’s married life to flesh out her backstory. She created a little side story where Mila had learned guitar and played in a folk band in college.

Not long after she and Sarah had become friendly, Sarah asked a difficult question.

“Mrs Randal?” Sarah was blushing.

“You mean Mila,” Mila smiled at Sarah.

“Mila. Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure Sarah, what is it?”

“Before I came to you and Peter I was in service with the Hislops. I changed their sheets twice a week.”

Mila frowned and wondered where this was going.

“As you know, the Sons of Jehovah encourage a man to enjoy his wife as often as he feels the need. The Hislop’s sheets were usually badly stained and sometimes were as stiff as cardboard,” it was Sarah’s turn to blush.

“It’s none of my business but I do hope that you and Peter are enjoying each other’s fruits. You are so beautiful that I often wonder how he manages to keep his hands off you at all,” her blush deepened.

“Oh that’s easily explained Sarah. I don’t know if you know this but Peter and I were having marriage difficulties before we reconciled and came to Redhaven. I went off the contraceptive pill for a while and we have been using condoms. I have only just started using oral contraceptives again.”

When Mila told Peter about the anecdote he broke up laughing but realised that the consequences would have been dire if Sarah told any of the Apostles that they were living a sham marriage.

“Well there is only one way to fix the problem,” Peter raised his brows at Mila and she frowned.

When the answer dawned on her, she too broke up.

They took turns jerking off into the sheets, always on Mila’s side of the bed so it looked like she was sleeping in the wet spot. The bed was big enough for Mila to sleep well away from the puddle until it dried. It was these little unusual practicalities of their situation that bought Peter and Mila closer. She had even got over her revulsion when she kissed him and they made a point of being affectionate with each other in public although she thought of him only as a friend.

But it was conversations like the sheets that piqued Mila and Sarah’s curiosity with each other’s lives. Mila commented how all of the married women in Redhaven always looked like they had just stepped out of the beauty parlour and one day Sarah told Mila why.

SOJ children entered high school at thirteen. There was only one school in Redhaven and it was administered by the Sons of Jehovah. It was there that the intense indoctrination into the faith began and although it was a co-educational school, girls and boys were separated during religious instruction and for certain other curriculum. The dress code was strict. Girls wore knee-length pleated grey skirts, white cotton blouses, white ankle socks and black Mary Jane's. In colder months they wore a blazer with the school crest of the pocket. Boys wore long grey pants, white shirts, black brogues, blazers and school ties.

In grade eleven the girl’s uniform changed dramatically. The grey skirt became flat-fronted and the hem went from the knee to mid-thigh, the white blouse became tighter, contoured to the body, ankle socks were replaced by sheer tan nylons and the Mary Jane’s became wedge heeled ankle-strap pumps. The girls wore full makeup and had their hair styled. There were classes in beauty, deportment and homemaking.

It was at this stage that Pairing began. Potential marriage partners were identified by a committee made up of parents, teachers and ministers of the church. The pairs were allowed to date platonically to see if they were compatible. If the Pairing was deemed unsuitable or the couple did not get along, the couple would split and be paired with other partners until a right fit was found. There was no imposition of the Order at this stage, the children of Acolytes, Patriarchs and Apostles all attended the same school, the girl assumed the Order of her fiancé when they became betrothed.

For pretty girls this was an opportunity to move up the social order at a young age. This process also ensured the SOJ tenet that women were betrothed at eighteen and married by their twentieth birthday. For the young women, who for whatever reason, weren’t Paired by their twentieth birthday there were two options. The women could leave Redhaven or could remain in the religious order and accept suitable conventional employment. These were the secretaries, waitresses, hairdressers and housemaids and so on.

For these spinsters, their hope was that they might be Paired with a man who later became a widower. There is no divorce in the church of the Sons of Jehovah; the church is built around the commitment and sanctity of marriage, albeit skewed to reflect the unbridled devotion of a wife to her husband.

So as young women seeking to be Paired, and as wives devoted to keeping their husbands happy, appearance was of ultimate importance. Women spent a large part of their day ensuring they looked alluring for their partners or potential partners. There were a few buxom ladies in Redhaven but only because their husbands wanted them that way but there were no obese women.

Mila had not seen a woman who was not wearing full makeup, even when recreating outdoors. They might wear spandex tights or shorts when exercising put Mila had never seen a woman wearing pants and never bare-legged. Some of the younger women wore hotpants but always with pantyhose. It was the same with footwear. Of course women wore sports shoes to exercise and recreate but at other times it was usually high heels or some other form of fashionable footwear.

In précis: women were institutionally domesticated and sexualised from puberty, albeit keeping their virtue until married.

Mila found this aspect of Sons of Jehovah archaic, discriminatory and misogynist and it infuriated her. Of course she never stated her views but she asked Sarah why women were so accepting of their roles in the church and society.

Sarah found it hard to explain. Generations of Sons of Jehovah had been brought up that way. They were a semi-isolated community located in north western Wyoming. There were many who left the faith: women who wanted to be emancipated and men who hadn’t found a suitable bride. But they kept the ciphers and the deeper tenets of the church secret. Despite their friendship there were aspects of the church’s doctrine and ceremonies that Sarah would not discuss with Mila.

Sarah was amused by Mila’s stories of her upbringing and life before she came to Redhaven. She was by no means envious but she found Mila’s tales intriguing. She very much approved of the fact that Mila and Peter had been high school sweethearts and married straight out of college.

Peter was travelling extensively with his job, often to large cities where the SOJ had investments and business dealings. Mila had no doubts that Peter was finding sex partners in these cities but he never told her and she didn’t ask, but after six months she was claustrophobic and needed a break.

She flew to LA on the pretext of meeting up with family but her real reason for going was to meet up with Steven. She made no secret of the fact to Peter who was mildly amused that Mila and Steven had developed a romantic attachment.

Mila wasn’t stupid enough to think that what she and Steven had amounted to anything more than a friendship with benefits. So far they had only had two momentary trysts and Steven was still pouncing on young actresses whenever he got the opportunity. But Steven was the only other person besides Peter who knew her secret. He was her friend, her confidant and she wanted him to be her lover. They had conversed online at length about his and had titillated each other, building up the expectation of their first meeting since Mila had left LA.

Mila and Steven had planned to see each other more often than was the case but practicalities prevented them from doing so, so Mila was very excited about meeting up with him. She had it all planned. Mila stopped at a lingerie boutique on the way to the Beverly Hills Waldorf Astoria. Mila quite liked being affluent and intended to live the highlife while she could.

Mila was not only grappling with her gender she was also grappling with her sexuality. The more time she spent living her life as Mila, the more she wanted to be Mila, to be a woman. But she did not want to become a complete woman, the thought of reassignment surgery had briefly crossed her mind but deep down she knew that it wasn’t for her. But she wanted to experience sex as the female partner and she knew how special women like her achieved that, there was no end of pornography and information on the internet, it wasn’t hard to research it.

When Steven came up to her suite she was lying on the bed waiting for him. She was both excited and trepidatious.

“Magnificent,” Steven sighed when saw her, quickly ripping off his clothes.

Mila was wearing a see-through black nylon negligee edged with red lace. Underneath she had on a black satin and lace garter belt to which were clipped, long, fully-fashioned, coffee-coloured nylon stockings; very retro. She wore red satin panties and her genitals were untucked, her erection bulged the front of her panties. She had foregone the brassiere, she saw no reason to wear one, she was however wearing black fuck-me pumps.

Her makeup was heavy and daring, her face framed by her blonde hair, silver and emerald drop earrings dangled from her ears and a matching necklace adorned her neck and bracelets on each wrist, she even had a silver chain bracelet on her left ankle.

Steven joined her on the bed and she opened her arms to receive him. They kissed passionately for what seemed like an eternity, both wanting to reach for each other and both resisting the temptation to do so, antagonising but delightfully postponing the inevitable culmination so they could savour the moment.

Mila was in no mood for foreplay, she was impatient to experience the ultimate sexual fulmination. She slid herself under Steven so that he was lying on top of her, his cock pressing against hers. They rutted against each other as they kissed, then Mila opened her legs and lifted her buttocks.

Steven broke their kiss to speak softly.

“You’re sure?”

Mila pulled his face to hers and Steven lifted her negligee out of the way of her buttocks and pulled the gusset of her panties aside so he had unfettered access to her anus. She had prepared herself earlier and had inserted gel caps in her anus and pre-lubricated her sphincter.

Mila guided Steven’s phallus to her tight puckered bud. She gasped as he penetrated her and Steven stopped, thinking he might be hurting her but Mila wrapped her silken-sheathed legs around him and raised herself up off the bed, slowly impaling herself on his manhood.

She was tight and there was some pain but the overwhelming feeling was one of pleasure: delightful, decadent, wicked, ribald pleasure.

“Fuck me,” she whispered and Steven obliged.

Steven wanted to assail her anus, to pound his cock in and out of the gorgeous creature lying under him but he exercised restraint and slowly eased his cock out of her until she gasped and then slid it back inside her. Mila encouraged him, holding him with her legs, raking him with her nails, whispering obscenities and rising to meet his thrusts.

Their soft lovemaking slowly became a frenzied rutting, the feeling of Steven’s cock filling her void, pushing on her prostate, stretching and stimulating her sphincter bought forth delicious feelings of ecstasy that she didn’t think was possible. Not only was Mila experiencing the most amazing sexual encounter of her life, she felt so womanly, so feminine lying beneath Steven, taking the passive role; kissing him, caressing him, holding onto him as he plunged his hard cock in and out of her tight anus.

Mila screamed as the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced washed over her. Feelings of intense pleasure radiated from her anus and her phallus, her sphincter spasmed and convulsed as her cock throbbed and juddered, thick ropes of semen splashed onto her belly, the hot viscous fluid was smeared into her skin as Steven pressed himself against her, voiding his issue inside her. Mila was sure she could feel his scalding spend filling her. She clung to him, kissing him viciously, grinding against him, both of them gasping and groaning.

Later they lay in each other’s arms, sated, their sweat and secretions cooling on their flesh.

“That was amazing,” Mila sighed.

Steven had nothing to say. He was already erect and had visions of throwing Mila onto her hands and knees and buggering her again.

She let him.

All weekend.

*****

Arriving back home after her week in LA, Mila became intently aware of how claustrophobic life was in Redhaven. Sarah Jennings had taken three weeks holiday and had left the week before Mila went to LA and being mostly alone in the big house Mila quickly became bored.

She met with her usual coterie of ‘ladies who lunch’ and had worked off the excesses of her holiday with long runs, swimming and tennis but she still felt detached and remote, Peter was away attending to business.

Mila hopped into her BMW Z4 which had hardly any miles on it and decided to go for a long drive. She took the well-maintained arterial road out of Redhaven which would eventually join the US191 but instead she took a detour along the river valley, opening up the little speedster and letting all the horses under the hood run free. She really had no idea where she was going when she turned onto a spur-road on a whim, the road was not mapped in her GPS. She ignored the big sign with red lettering that read Private Road – No Access, there was no one around for miles.

The road was obviously well used despite being deserted. The land was flat but the vista of the imposing mountains in the near distance made it hard to get perspective. Both sides of the road were fenced and cattle congregating in small groups raised their heads as she drove past. Mila knew that one of the SOJ businesses was cattle ranching but strangely enough she had never met a woman in Redhaven who claimed that her husband was a cowboy.

After a few miles Mila could see a series of long low buildings in the distance and then she saw a gate. A very substantial gate she realised as she braked hard. Two men on horseback holding military-style assault rifles watched her approach and one of them made a motion for her wind down her window, which she did.

He rode over, leaned down and looked into the car.

“Howdy Mrs Randal; this is far as you go today I’m sorry,” the man smiled at her amiably enough but there was menace in his tone.

“I’m just out for a drive, I didn’t see any signs or anything,” Mila didn’t want to sound apologetic but it was her natural reaction, probably because they both knew that she was lying.

The other man on horseback took position on the other side of the car.

“Well I’m sorry honey but you’re going to have to turn back to Redhaven,” the first man was still staring intently at her.

It was then she realised why the horsemen were so keen to stare through the windows. Mila was wearing a miniskirt and pantyhose and her skirt was nearly up around her waist and she was showing off her pretty pink satin panties. She struggled to pull down the hem of her skirt in the cramped car and the cowboys grinned at her as she flushed with embarrassment.

“Looks like they sent an escort to take you back to town,” one of the men nodded down the road.

Mila looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the flashing lights of a patrol car. The car pulled up behind her and a young, good-looking uniformed police officer got out of the car and adjusted the Stetson on his head. He nodded to the two men on horseback and went over and spoke to them for a while before he came over to Mila’s car.

Uninvited he opened the passenger door and got in beside her.

“Good afternoon Mrs Randal, it appears you’ve taken a wrong turn back aways. I’m here to make sure you don’t get lost,” the man was confident and polite.

Unlike the two cowboys he kept his eyes locked on hers and not down her lap where her skirt stubbornly refused stay put under her ass.

“I don’t need an escort, I can simply re-trace my route,” Mila was angry at the way she was being treated.

“Look ma’am, I know that you are an important person in this town but you are not of our faith and there are some things you don’t know. One of them is that the Sons of Jehovah ranch is off limits to all visitors. It’s a working cattle ranch and city people like yourself are libel to get hurt.”

To Mila this seemed like a flimsy excuse to have men with automatic weapons guarding the gate to a farm.

“Seems like overkill to have cowboys with machine guns and municipal law enforcement guarding a few cows.”

Mila saw a flash of intense anger in the police officer’s eyes and then his friendly demeanour returned.

“We don’t get many visitors to Redhaven as you are probably aware but we do get a few gawkers who think we are some kind of weird religious cult or kind of interesting and quaint like the Amish.”

“You’ve been among us long enough to know that we value our privacy, you agreed to abide by our moral code and religious tenets.”

“Yes I get that but no one told me that I couldn’t take a drive whenever I wanted to,” Mila was still angry.

“And that is your right ma’am. Just not along this road and out to this ranch; it’s off limits.”

“Look we’ve had a few issues with so-called environmental warriors collecting what they call ‘resource data’, taking pictures and collecting soil and water samples on our land without prior permission.”

“A bunch of fern-sniffing pinko lefties set up camp out here when we invested in natural gas fracking and we had to move them on so we found the easiest way to keep them out was to make this road and the whole area legally off limits except to those who work here.”

“Now if you would be so kind as to turn around and drive back onto the main road I’d be obliged,” the police officer gave her his best smile.

“Sorry officer, I’ll turn around right now.”

Mila was not convinced by the officer’s story but she was in no position to argue.

“Thanks ma’am. Nice legs by the way,” the police officer grinned at her and exited the vehicle.

Mila was fuming all the way back to the main road where her police escort overtook her and took off at speed. Officer Friendly gave her a wave as they drove past her and Mila gave him the finger.

As Mila’s anger dissipated it was replaced by curiosity. How had the cowboys known that she was coming and how had the police turned up so quickly? Were there were guards on the ranch gates at all the times? She had seen the radios on the cowboy’s belts and the sophisticated wireless earpieces around their necks. Did they have a direct radio link to the police department? That still didn’t explain how the cops had arrived so quickly.

More importantly they had addressed her as Mrs Randal. How did they know who she was? Sure, it was likely that most of the citizens of Redhaven knew that they had outsiders living in their town; they were a close-knit religious community after all. But the cowboys? How would they know?

To be continued