“She’s gone. She left for Australia yesterday with her fucking yoga teacher. How fucking cliché!” Peter Randal stared down into his drink.

“I mean the guy even looks like Chris Hemsworth for fuck sake… and that accent! What a joke! I should have seen it coming a mile away,” Peter choked down his scotch and poured another.

Miles Francis sat nursing his own drink listening to his brother-in-law and couldn’t help but feel a little schadenfreude. He had always been jealous of Peter Randal and his sister, Peter’s trophy-wife Mila.

Miles even hated that his twin sister was called Mila, a name so close to his own. They were fraternal twins being brother and sister and they were almost identical. When they were younger, they were often mistaken for each other by family members and friends; not helped by the fact that their mother Cynthia liked to dress them identically.

“There goes the job. A fucking six figure salary north of five hundred K. The fucking house, the cars, all the fucking perks gone because that bitch wants to pat kangaroos and fuck Crocodile Dundee,” Peter ranted.

“So your love for Mila extends as far as your pocketbook,” Miles said sarcastically.

“Oh come on Miles, you know our marriage has been a sham for over a year. We’ve both been fucking around on each other. It’s not like we have any kids to keep us together. We would have separated anyway if it wasn’t for the prospect of this job,” Peter sucked down his drink.

Miles and his sister had been inseparable until Mila met Peter Randal in her teens. Peter had been captain of their high school football team and valedictorian; he had gone on to college and graduated with honours with degrees in both law and business. Mila had followed him and they married not long after Peter graduated. Peter climbed the corporate ladder at an astounding rate; he was headhunted by some of the most successful companies and he had all the trappings of success: the pretty wife, the opulent down-town apartment, the luxury cars, and the exorbitant lifestyle.

Their excesses fuelled by greed and uncontrollable appetites had been the downfall of their marriage. They had both been spiralling down towards rock bottom due to their exorbitance: booze, drugs, sex and high-rolling. Living in Los Angeles offered every kind of temptation.

“Look at this place Miles. The mortgage is crippling, the cars are leased and the bank accounts are nearly empty and I’m in hock up to my neck to some very bad people,” Peter confessed.

This came as a surprise to Miles who thought Peter and Mila were literally rolling in it.

“But I thought you guys were rich, millionaires or something?” Miles said.

“It went out faster than it came in, not helped by your sister I might add; that woman has expensive tastes,” Peter sighed.

“Maybe if you’d spent more time with her she might not have needed to spend to feel good and she would still be with you now,” Miles said frankly.

“Look, we both have our faults but this job was going to save our marriage and fix our financial woes,” Peter filled his glass again.

“I don’t think moving to a new town and taking a new job would have fixed anything. Isn’t that what alcoholics call ‘doing a geographical?’” he couldn’t help having a dig at Peter.

“You don’t understand Miles. This job… this fucking job was with the Sons of Jehovah. They never hire anyone from outside their church but I have exceptional skills that they desperately want and we were prepared to live by the religious tenets of their church while I was employed by them.”

“And that’s you? Mister exceptional skills and his Stepford wife?” Miles guffawed.

“We made a pact. We would play the part for a year or two or three until we got out of the hole. But Mila fucked me good and proper. She waited until I had the new job locked in and had tendered my resignation from my current position before she left me with that tanned Aussie doofus,” Peter drank a swallow of his Macallan whisky.

“Can’t you just turn up and say that Mila has had an accident or is needed at home by the family or something?” Miles asked.

“You don’t understand Miles. These fuckers required a family tree and conducted background checks; they don’t pay outsiders north of half a million dollars a year unless they can trust them. They know that Mila has no close family except for you and that my family are respectable church-going farmers.”

“Fuck, I even had to send them pictures of Mila, along with a fucking genealogical chart... and then we had to fly out there to be interviewed.”

“Under no circumstances do they allow single men to live amongst them. It’s some Commandment or some shit; I don’t know, but it’s forbidden.”

“I’m screwed Miles. There are things about my employment with the SOJ that I can’t tell you, but they are not going to be happy when I tell them I can’t work for them. The retribution is likely to be severe.”

“But wouldn’t they have found out about your excesses?” Miles asked.

“During the interview we fessed up that we had gone through a rough patch but had gone to marriage counselling and that our marriage was now as solid as ever. They love that shit. Honesty, reconciliation and commitment… if they only knew that Mila had blown some guy in the toilet on the airplane on the way home. Her little way of humiliating me and letting me know that she was holding all the cards.”

“Sounds to me like you need a Mila doppelganger,” Miles joked.

“Well I can’t say it’s been fun and to be honest, I was never your fan but I’m sorry for both yourself and Mila. That said, I’m flat broke and living in a cockroach infested tenement so you won’t get much sympathy from me I’m afraid,” Miles got up to leave.

“Well whose fault is that? You’re thirty-three years old and still tossing burgers. You dropped out of college and hooked up with your buddies thinking you were going to be rock stars; Christ, you haven’t had a steady job since you left school,” Peter said bitterly.

While Peter had been the captain of the football team, Miles had shown no physical abilities at all. He was slender and almost effeminate; he’d been a Goth and then an Emo kid for a while. His interests were music and the arts, he was quiet and emotionally attached to his sister until she took up with Peter when all that changed and she started to look down on Miles as he struggled to get along while she pinned herself to Peter’s coattails.

“I don’t even know why you called me. You don’t like me and we haven’t been close since Mila married you,” Miles was putting on his coat.

“I guess because regardless of everything you are still family. My asshole friends will take great pleasure when they find out I’ve missed out on the chance of a lifetime and my family don’t approve of my lifestyle so who else’s shoulder was I going to cry on?” Peter downed that last of his drink.

“Well sobering up would be a good start. If Mila ever gives you her contact details pass them on to me and I guess I’ll see you around… well I probably won’t. Don’t worry Peter; assholes like you have a way for falling on their feet. I’ll show myself out,” Miles said with some finality.

On the way out miles looked around the luxury apartment with awe and envy. He shrugged his shoulders and shivered at the thought of the cold-water flat that awaited him.

“Anyway… fuck Peter and Mila,” he hissed as he pressed the button for the private elevator.

*****

Peter did sober up the next day but he was in a pique of melancholy. He was sitting in the master bedroom going through old pictures on his tablet when he found one that made him smile. It was Miles and Mila. Miles was dressed in a tuxedo and Mila was dressed in an evening gown. Mila looked pretty and was showing a lot of leg through the split in the side of her satin dress.

He read the caption: Miles and Mila - Halloween 2003 and then he realised what he was looking at. Miles and Mila aged seventeen going to their last Halloween dance. They had dressed as each other and looking at the picture it was nearly impossible to tell them apart. He remembered the night well because he had been astounded at their resemblance to each other and he wouldn’t kiss or feel up Mila until she got changed after the dance because it was just plain weird trying to canoodle with your girlfriend when she looked exactly like her brother.

They both had long blonde hair and Miles still kept his hair long and wore earrings in both ears, trying to hang on to his halcyon days when his band was going somewhere. They had played the gig at the Halloween dance that night and Miles had remained dressed as Mila while on stage and the crowd had gone wild.

The cogs started slowly turning in Peter’s brain as the cobwebs of his hangover dissipated. He stepped into an icy-cold shower to fully wake himself up and then treated himself to a long hot shower where the seeds of a plan started to germinate. He came out of the ensuite bathroom dressed in his bathrobe and stared at the Halloween picture while he worked the phone.

Mila had friends in the theatre and therefore by default so did Peter. One of those friends, Steven Boutros, liked nose candy and Peter had been his source for a while. Steven was one of the few theatre friends they had who was straight and he and Peter had hit on a few of the young actresses in Steven’s theatre production company with varying degrees of success. Peter gave Steven a call and invited him around for drinks and some blow.

Steven was immediately suspicious when Peter drank spring water while Steven drank expensive Macallan whisky and snorted a couple of lines.

“So why did you invite me around to a party and then sit there sober?” Steven asked.

“I got this crazy idea that you might be able to help me with. You’ve coached actors for years right?” Peter sipped his spring water.

“Yeah. So what’s this crazy idea?”

Peter picked up his tablet and showed him the Halloween picture.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me?” Steven chuckled when Peter told him his plan.

“Look, only a couple of people out there in Redhaven have met Mila, and then only briefly. The resemblance is uncanny right?” Peter had switched to scotch.

“Do you realise the commitment involved? Does he?” Steven wagged a finger at Peter.

“He would have to literally become Mila twenty-four, seven for as long as you’re there. There can be no vacations from her once he becomes her, if he reverts to himself, even for a short while, he’s libel to fuck up.”

“What do you mean twenty-four seven? Can’t he just dress like her when I need her? You know parties, work gatherings, dinners and shit.” Peter swallowed and poured.

“That won’t work; they will want her to socialise with the other wives, charities, church shit, those SOJ women are almost fucking Stepford wives.”

“Or somebody drops by. ‘Where’s Mila?’ they ask. ‘Well she ain’t here but her identical brother is,’ you say. ‘No shit! He spends a lot of time here but he never spends time with his sister.’”

“How long you think that will play? Miles will need to be committed to becoming Mila full time.”

Peter was thinking it was the second time now that he heard the term Stepford wife and wondered if the prospect of that lifestyle been the catalyst for Mila’s departure

“Ok Steve I get it. How long will it take you to teach him, to train him, whatever the fuck you call it?” Peter was excited now.

“How long do you have?” Steven finished his drink and held out his glass for more.

“Three weeks,” Peter topped off Steven’s drink.

“But that’s not the question. The question is how much?” Peter grinned.

“Well now. This is gonna be a lot of work plus you’re buying my secrecy… so how much you got?” Steven grinned back.

They went back and forth for a while and finally struck a deal.

“There’s one more thing,” Peter offered Steven the small mirror with the blow cut into lines.

Steven did a line in each nostril.

“Yeah what's that?” Steven rubbed the residue off the mirror into his gums.

“I haven’t told Miles yet,” Peter took back the mirror and did a couple of lines while Steven unleashed a string of obscenities.

*****

“You’re fucking joking right? You can’t be serious!” Miles was astounded at Peter’s proposition.

“I’ve made a few enquires Miles. You still have unpaid student loans, you’re about to be evicted by your landlord and you owe money all around town.”

“I’ll acquit all your debts. You’ll have somewhere nice to live, some getting around money, a car, freedom to do whatever you want except when I need you,” Peter opened his hands wide in an exaggerated gesture.

“You don’t have any money; you told me so,” Miles replied.

“I have money, just not the kind I’m used to having and anyway I have an advance from the Sons of Jehovah.”

“So I get all this stuff and the freedom to do whatever I want so long as I live my life pretending to be my sister,” Miles exhaled.

“You’re crazy. Even if I agreed to your preposterous plan, I could never pull it off.”

“Sure you could. You look like her, you even sound a lot like her with that whiney dusky voice of hers,” Peter chuckled.

“Way to get me to agree to your ridiculous proposal; insult me,” Miles stood up to leave.

“Hey, hey, hey… I was just getting in practice treating you like I do Mila,” Peter reached out to calm Miles down.

Miles sat back down and took a beer when Peter offered it.

“How long?” Miles asked.

Peter felt a little uplifted by the question.

“I’d say we do it for a year. It would need to be at least that long to meet my contractual obligation to the SOJ Church patriarchs.”

“Then we figure it out; they want me for two years. If you wanna leave after a year, maybe we have a marital dispute and you leave me, something like that. But if we don’t agree to live by their church rules I get nothing. I’ll be in breach of contract.”

“And Mila knew this when she left you?” Miles took a pull on his beer and Peter nodded.

“Man, she really twisted the knife,” Miles smiled wickedly.

“And now the real question. If and I mean if… and it’s a huge if… If I was to do it; how much do I get?”

“I told you. You get to live in a nice house, get the use of a nice car, some running around cash and three squares a day plus the pleasure of my company,” Peter raised his bottle and gestured to Miles.

Miles held his bottle close to his chest.

“That’s the problem. I have to live in the same house as you. I want more than running around money; I want half,” Peter swigged at his bottle.

“You’re fucking crazy Miles. Mila wouldn’t have got half is she’d stayed,” Peter growled.

“I bet she would have and probably more. I understand you lovebirds had no prenup,” Miles smiled and drank again.

“You stick to it. No bailing out once we’re in… and you do everything that Steven Boutros tells you to,” Peter said resignedly.

“Steven who?” Miles asked.

“You’ll find out. Get out of that shithole you’re living in and put whatever you own that you think might be worth anything in storage. You’re moving in here tomorrow. You have three weeks to become your sister; you already drive me crazy like she does,” Peter held out his bottle and Miles finally clinked his against it.

*****

Miles had very little to put into storage: a big Marshall stage amp, a Gibson Les Paul Custom and a cherry-red Gibson SG were the only things he owned of any value.

But there was one last thing he was going to do before he left his flat. His landlord was an asshole but his wife Linda was quite attractive for a larger woman in her fifties and she’d been giving Miles the eye. Linda liked to get around in tight skirts and dresses showing off her big tits and long legs which she always kept swathed in sheer nylons and her feet were perpetually shod in high-heels. She had big red hair and her face had been worked on, her lips were formed in a perpetual pout. The drummer in his band called them ‘blow-job lips’.

Miles caught up with her in the basement laundry where she was bending over one of the machines putting in her washing. Her dress had ridden up and he could see right up her thighs to her purple satin panties which encased her large firm buttocks. Miles had a thing for a good pair of legs in pantyhose; he liked the sheen of the diaphanous material and the soft, silky feel of the fabric when he ran his hands along a calf or a thigh.

The other two machines were going flat out on the spin cycle and Linda hadn’t heard him come in. He closed the door and locked it. Miles crept up behind Linda, all the time admiring those big firm thighs and that luscious plump derriere.

Miles waited until he was directly behind her before he spoke.

“Hello Linda.”

Linda jumped; startled by his presence. Then she turned around. It took her a few seconds to gain her composure during which her dress remained high up on her thighs and Miles did not hide the fact that he was ogling them. Linda blushed and then gained her aplomb, pulling down the hem of her dress and smiling at him with those plump red-lipsticked lips. She was blushing.

“Hello Miles,” her smile widened when she saw it was him.

“I’m afraid this is going to be goodbye. I’m moving out,” he spoke directly to her buxom breasts.

Her tits had had some work done too. They were big, straining at the buttons of her aqua-blue Charmeuse dress that was so inappropriate for housework but typical of her. Linda always looked like she was dressed for a night on the town with her short skirts, high heels, big hair and heavy makeup. She and her husband Stanislav were Slavic of some sort; he was skinny, mean and spoke poor English. Linda was generous, extravagant with her gestures, touchy one might say, and spoke good English with a Ukrainian accent. She was the personification of the overdressed, some would say vulgar, Slavic woman living in the West with some money to spend on herself.

Instead of leaning back away from Miles she stepped closer, almost touching him and he was enveloped in miasma of perfume. She touched him gently on the shoulder, her fingers were long and her manicured fingernails were bright-red, just like her lipstick.

“It’s Stanislav isn’t it? I told him to fix the plumbing in your flat and replace the cooktop but who listens to an old woman like me?” her eyes were bright and she was smiling with that saucy grin of hers.

Miles knew that she was bullshitting. Stanislav might be a tight-fisted, mean, cantankerous asshole but he worshipped Linda and was at her beck and call.

“I’ll be so sorry to see you go,” Linda stroked his cheek affectionately.

“Me too,” Miles smiled wanly.

“Will you miss poor little Linda?” she doubled down on the pout.

“I’ll miss that I never got the chance to fuck you,” Miles grinned at her.

Her mood changed and he saw the anger rise in her eyes and she pulled her hand away from his face and bought it back and raised it, ready to slap him. Miles caught her wrist mid-slap, his eyes never leaving hers. He could see the glint of lust under the anger and instead of backing away she held her ground, almost challenging him.

Miles pulled Linda into him, still holding her wrist. He crushed his lips against hers and he felt a sob in the back of her throat. It wasn’t a sob of dismay, it was growl of lust. He let go of her wrist and pulled Linda hard against him, her pillowy breasts felt wonderful against his chest. He was wearing a thin T-shirt and he could feel the heft of her bosom squashing against him.

Linda feigned a struggle, it was half-hearted and it was more like she was wriggling against him than trying to escape, she didn’t even break their kiss. Suddenly she stopped. She pressed her hands against his chest and leaned back a little but Miles still held her in his embrace.

“An old woman like me is no match for a strong young man like you. You have overpowered me and I am yours for the taking. Please just spare my Stanislav the indignity of knowing that his wife was forced to surrender her virtue.”

Miles thought that her act might have received the Ukrainian version of an Oscar.

Linda crushed her lips against Miles and this time there was no pretence of reticence, she opened those big lips wide and thrust her tongue into Miles’ mouth and worked it around his mouth with relish. If that wasn’t a signal for him to fuck her, squeezing his hard cock through his tight jeans certainly was.

Miles wanted to get to her breasts but they were crushed against his chest so he went exploring under her dress instead. His fingers stroked her silken thighs and worked their way up to her panties. She was wearing full-cut satin panties over her pantyhose and he liked the feel of the slippery fabric when he rubbed it against her mound. He felt Linda shudder in his embrace and she sighed in his mouth as he traced the outline of her cleft through the layers of satin and nylon.

Linda kissed him harder and rocked back and forth on her heels as he worked his fingers on her sex, he could feel the protruding mound of her vulva and her fleshy lips through the fabric of her panties. She was hot and wet and a scintilla of her vaginal aroma drifted from under her dress. She clamped his hand between her fleshy thighs and rocked back and forwards while Miles pushed his fingers into her sodden minge.

Linda frantically unzipped him and improved his erection to full tumescence and guided him between her thighs. Miles removed his hand and made way for his penis which Linda pressed against her sex and then slammed her thighs shut. The feel of his hard cock encased in her nylon-sheathed thighs pressing on her sex through her sodden slick panties was wonderful and he kissed her harder.

Linda backed up to the washing machine and surprised him by spinning around, bending over and holding onto the washing machine while thrusting out her buttocks invitingly. Bent over like that she was a magnificent sight, those awesome, purple-satin clad buttocks thrust out, her dress hiked up around her waist, her long legs sheathed in shimmering nylons and those spiky black high heels spread invitingly apart.

“Come on Miles; we don’t have much time. Who knows when Stanislav will come home?” Linda wiggled her buttocks encouragingly.

Miles stepped between her legs and dropped his pants. He slid the gusset of her purple panties aside revealing Linda’s shaved mound. Her pink lips were protruding from her vulva and her pantyhose were glistening with her secretions. Miles poked a finger into the gauzy nylon and made a cock-sized hole and leaned forward and thrust himself deep inside Linda.

Her vagina was unexpectedly tight and Miles thought for a fleeting second that she may have had some work done there too but her hot buttery cleft clinging to his throbbing hard cock demanded his full attention.

“Fuck me Miles! Fuck me!” Linda urged him with that sexy accent.

Miles obliged and grasped Linda’s hips and began to thrust his cock in and out of her, enjoying every stroke. Linda put a hand inside her underwear so she could finger her clitoris while he fucked her. Miles pressed against her soft buttocks and reached under Linda and tore open the bodice of her dress. She started to berate him but stopped when he freed her huge breasts and began to squeeze and fondle them while he fucked her. He tweaked her nipples making them swell and Linda moaned like a slattern.

While this was enjoyable, Miles wanted better access to Linda’s body. He let go of her bosom and entwined his fingers in her hair and pulled his cock out of her. He frog-marched her over to the folding bench. He spun her around and lifted her onto the bench, grunting with the effort. Linda opened her legs wide and Miles stepped between them and Linda closed her legs around him as he entered her. He lowered his face to hers and they kissed passionately while they fucked.

Linda encouraged him, mouthing obscenities around their wet sloppy kisses while Miles fucked her deep and hard, gradually increasing the pace as Linda spurned him on, her silken-clad calves pressing his flanks and her high heels digging into his back.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Linda screamed and Miles tried to silence her by kissing her harder but he was ejaculating inside her and the pleasure was overwhelming.

Linda raised her crotch off the bench so she could grind her vulva against Miles’ pubis to open her cuntal lips wide and stimulate her clitoris. She felt Miles’ hot semen flood her tight passage and she used her cunt-muscles to grip his cock and rend every drop of his spend from him.

Miles fell on top of her when he had finally stopped ejaculating and Linda kissed him passionately and then stopped and kissed him once, chastely on the forehead.

“Good boy. Now get off Linda so she can fix herself before Stanislav gets home,” she stood and pushed her breasts inside her brassiere and began to button her dress.

Miles found some paper towel and wiped his dripping cock.

“Here. Give me,” Linda held out her hand and waggled her fingers.

Miles tore off a wad of the paper towel and Linda wiped her cunt vigorously and unceremoniously dropped the paper in the wastebasket. She straightened her pantyhose and panties and smoothed out her dress and then she reached for her handbag and took out a hairbrush and her makeup case.

“What you waiting around for? You’re a good boy Miles, give Linda the fucking she needs but you better go,” Linda was fussing with her makeup.

Now that he had fucked Linda, Miles felt a little deflated, let down. She was a good fuck but there was no longer a challenge, he did like fucking her in her pantyhose though, he had a real fetish for them.

“Thanks Linda,” Miles said and did up the button on his jeans and reached for the door.

“Thanks for what? You forced Linda remember?” she gave him a salacious wink and made shooing motions with her hand.

*****

Miles Francis disappeared the next day. Not that it mattered. With his debts paid, his flat vacated and his job quit, there was no one to come looking for him. His sister was down-under with her new beau and his family had long ago given up on him.

Miles was met by Steven Boutros, who introduced himself and told Miles why he was there.

“I started in the theatre doing anything I could at first: property, costumes, makeup, even taking small parts until my first play was accepted by a production company. The gist is that I know enough to get you started but most of the hard work will be on you,” Steven explained leading Miles upstairs to one of the bedrooms.

The bedroom was very feminine, with a satin comforter trimmed with lace on the big bed, far too many pillows than was practical, the bedclothes complemented the drapes and carpet. There was a huge walk-in robe and ensuite bathroom. A dressing table with a huge mirror and vanity lights took up space on one wall. Arranged on it were cosmetics, perfumes and all of the trappings required by a woman who is obsessed by her appearance.

Pinned to the walls was life-size full-body photographs of Mila and around the dressing table were a number of portraits. The pictures reflected her dressed in different styles: casually, formally, in daywear and in cocktail attire.

Steven closed the door behind them and took a seat next to the dressing table.

“Ok Mila let’s see what we have to work with,” he said.

Miles started to undress, he knew what Steven wanted.

“From now on you will answer only to Mila, you will think of yourself only as Mila and you will be addressed only as Mila. Can you do that?”

Halloween 2003 was not the only time he had pretended to be Mila. He and Mila had played the prank many times while they were growing up. Miles was sure that his fetish for pantyhose, stockings and lingerie had its roots in those times when he had presented himself to the world as a girl. Halloween 2003 was the last time they had pulled the prank; brother and sister were already drifting apart by then. Although Miles hadn’t dressed enfemme since then, his fetish had bloomed and he would slip into a pair of pantyhose and panties now and then when the urge took him.

“Ok. From now on I’m Mila,” Miles closed his eyes and tried to become his sister.

Mila stood naked in the middle of the room while Steven Boutros walked around her, clinically examining her.

Mila had blonde hair that came halfway down her back that was in severe need of a cut and style. Her facial skin was amazingly soft and her beard was light with hardly any hair on the sides of her face just a smattering around her upper lip, lower jaw and chin. Steven had been shown photos of Miles with a goatee that he had tried to grow but it was wispy and patchy and had not been a success. He tilted Mila’s face this way and that as he examined her.

“You have a good face and good skin. We can deal with your beard initially with some concealer after you’ve shaved but you are going to start laser hair removal as soon as possible.”

“We’ll do your hair and eyebrows this afternoon.”

Steven critically assessed the rest of Mila’s body.

“You’re very slim and not a lot of muscle which is good,” he commented.

“I run for an hour very day but I hate the gym,” Mila said.

“Good. Keep it up; you have great legs with hardly any hair and those few rouge hairs in the middle of your chest can be plucked.”

“The obvious bits we will need to work on are these,” Steven casually hefted Mila’s penis and scrotum.

“And of course these,” he moved his hands to Mila’s flat chest.

“Both are easily fixed believe it or not. The hardest part will be developing your posture, your mannerisms, and your speech. We call it your countenance; how you present yourself to the world.”

“This will work best if we have you looking as much like Mila as we can as soon as possible. Pluck those chest hairs out. If you can’t do it I will. Shave your face closely and shave your legs and under your arms. Take a nice long shower and wash your hair; just get it clean for now and brush it out, I have a hairdresser coming.”

Mila nodded and did as she was told. To stop herself thinking that this was a bad idea she just thought about the money.

Mila came out of the bathroom wearing a silk robe and nothing else. She was immediately led to the dressing table by Steven Boutros and an unnamed hairdresser to whom she was never introduced.

“I want everyone’s attention drawn to her face. She has great bone structure and good skin so let’s get her a fresh hairstyle for a fresh beginning shall we?” Steven said to the hairdresser, ignoring Mila.

Mila realised that she wouldn’t be consulted about the transformation and was smart enough to know that it was best left in the hands of the experts.

“Colour?” the hairdresser fussed with Mila’s hair, lifting it and parting it.

“We need to get rid of that dirty-blonde shag. We want her hair to draw attention to her face but she’s thirty-three not sixteen so we need something sophisticated but striking. I’d recommend a blunt bob; it express attitude, it’s an edgy hairstyle that shows she’s down to business, in a highly stylish way. The lighter we go, the more outgoing her final look will be.”

“Platinum? Or will that be going too far?” the hairdresser asked.

“Check these out; I got them online. The SOJ are like some of the evangelists in that they like their women to go out of the way to look glamorous. They are not prudes in that regard.”

Steven showed the hairstylist and Mila a series of pictures of well dressed, in some cases you could say sexy, SOJ women. They wore fashionable clothes, professional makeup and modern hairstyles.

“Well fuck it; let’s go platinum with a blunt bob with bangs,” the hairdresser began to lay out his equipment on the bathroom vanity.

Once again Mila was not consulted and Steven left them to it. The hairdresser never asked why he was giving this pale thin man a woman’s haircut.

Mila emerged two hours later and Steven was taken aback at the results. The stylist had plucked Mila’s brows, coloured and shaped them and then done an amazing job colouring and cutting her hair.

Her hair was almost silver and had a sheen to it. The blunt-cut bob was cut into a straight line at the ends. It was edgy and sophisticated; it complimented her heart-shaped face gorgeously emphasising her jaw area, bringing a strong and flattering look. And this even before they had put makeup on her.

“Look this hairstyle is classy yet simple and straightforward and ensures comfort and easiness in styling, she won’t have too many problems maintaining it until she finds her own hairstylist,” the hairdresser said to Steven; once again ignoring Mila.

Steven took the hairstylist to the door and money changed hands and then he returned to Mila who had been left sitting at the dresser.

“I’m going to do your makeup and I’ll explain to you what I’m doing and how to do it. We’ll take a few snaps and then wipe it off and then it’s up to you to get it right. You’re going to do this every day, applying different shades and styles of makeup for different occasions. Today we’ll go with eveningwear; let’s see how sexy we can make you look.”

Mila’s sister was known for her heavy eye makeup and red lipstick, it was her signature. Steven took his time and got her smoky eyes perfect, the lipstick was easy. It was of course not the first time Mila had worn makeup impersonating her sister but this was the first time she had it done professionally. He sprayed her liberally with perfume.

Mila looked good; very few people would have guessed it was Miles hiding under that hairstyle and makeup. Steven took some snaps of her and then left Mila for the rest of the morning to practice her makeup skills. While she did that he attacked her wardrobe. Mila had left with her beau in a hurry and they had travelled light. Most of Mila's extensive wardrobe was left behind.

Steven sorted through it, talking to Mila, still dressed in the silk dressing gown and practicing her makeup skills.

“You won’t need all of this where you’re going; your sister was quite the clotheshorse. Some of it won’t fit you well either, you aren’t exactly her body shape,” Steven explained as he ripped clothes off hangers and tossed them on the bed.

When Steven was happy that Mila had the basics right he told her she could cease makeup practice which was just as well as Mila’s eyes were getting sore from constantly applying and then wiping off eyeliner and mascara.

“Finish up with some day makeup and you can break for lunch. Don’t eat too much because I’m fitting you this afternoon,” Steven instructed.

While Mila ate a salad at the breakfast bar downstairs, Steven put a foot measuring device on her feet and wrote down the measurements. Mila had told Steven that on the occasions that she had dressed as her sister, the one thing that didn’t fit well was her shoes. After a while they would squeeze her feet painfully and the next day she had blisters. This would not do for a woman who was going to be expected to wear high heels almost every day.

He had Mila stand and measured under her chest with a measuring tape. Steven explained that the trick was to wrap the tape around where the band will sit, which is under her breasts and straight across her back, keeping the measuring tape taut, but not tight.

“You’re tits are going to be an issue as I presume you are not volunteering for implants,” Steven wrote down her measurements in a little book.

Mila didn’t answer the rhetorical question. Breast implant surgery could be reversed but it would take time and money that Peter didn’t have, and anyway, Mila was not having her body mutilated for any amount of money.

“The good thing is when Peter took your sister to meet those SOJ assholes they only met the Reverend, his wife and two other couples and they were only there for a couple of days. Your sister’s tits aren’t that memorable so I doubt anyone will notice you’ve dropped a bra size.”

“It’s too risky to use breastforms like they do in the drag shows; even the really expensive ones would be obvious under a low-cut top or dress. I’m having a bra custom tailored with chicken fillet inserts that will give you B-cup breasts which will look proportional to your frame,” Steve explained while Mila munched salad and once again regretted what she had gotten into.

Everything was so complicated. She thought she could just toss on a dress, pantyhose, heels and makeup and that would serve the purpose but she realised that becoming her sister was going to require full-time concentration and effort.

“So here’s what’s happening this afternoon. I’m sending someone to buy a cheap pair of heels using the measurements I took. You’re going to wear them for a few days and if they are all good Peter will have to kick in for some Jimmy Choo’s or Louboutin’s, Mila didn’t wear rubbish shoes.”

“The bra will be easy to make, my seamstress at the theatre is working on it while we speak. If the prototype fits we’ll get some quality bras fitted with the chicken fillet inserts. Your tits will look great and you won’t have to worry about a silicon boob flying across the table during dinner,” Steven joked.

Mila smiled meekly.

“What are these chicken fillets?”

“They are transparent soft breast inserts. They fit snugly inside your bra cup and because of the curved shape they will follow the natural line of your breasts and subtly boost your bust size and give you cleavage. In your case we will be creating almost invisible pockets in the cups of your bras for them to slip into so they won’t be detectable no matter what.”

“That is unless I take my bra off,” Mila couldn’t help dampening Steven’s enthusiasm.

“I am assuming that will only happen in the privacy of your bedroom. We will also get a couple of sports bras made and a swimsuit.”

“Really?” Mila was surprised.

“How serious do you think this is Mila? You’re going to live Mila’s life on her behalf not just pop up like some fucking puppet when you are needed. You're going to have to take your daily run, go swimming, go shopping, and meet other ladies for lunch. All the things a normal wife would do on a daily basis. If you just hide in your room and only come out for social events people will become suspicious. Those SOJ ladies like to gossip.”

“Ok get your ass upstairs we have a lot to do. I’m going to teach you how to tuck and this is one thing you will need to get perfect, we do not want a testicle popping out halfway through the ladies tennis tournament,” Steven sniggered.

On the few occasions that Mila had pretended to be her sister, she had simply tucked her penis and scrotum between her legs and her pantyhose and panties had held them in place with varying degrees of success. What Steven taught her was really just a refined version of the same process.

Steven explained the mechanics of tucking while he had her stand naked with her feet apart while he manipulated her. Mila was a little uncomfortable but she had come to trust Steven, he really knew what he was doing.

“Your testicles descend into the scrotum from two little chutes called the inguinal canals and they commonly slip back inside the body during sex, and you can easily push them in the canals whenever you desire. This phenomenon is really useful; simply press your testicles upward and inward and voila! They vanish.”

“Tucking will feel uncomfortable the first few times, but eventually the practice will become second nature. You can’t keep tucked for too long otherwise you are going to do some damage so you can untuck at night or maybe around the house if you think it’s safe.”

“Once you hide your testes, you need to tuck the rest of your penis. Reach around and tug your penis from behind to put it in between your buttocks along the perineum wrapped it in your empty scrotum. Once everything is in position, you must squeeze it all between your legs to prevent it from coming undone and use surgical tape to keep it all in place.”

Steven was doing this while he was explaining and Mila was quite amazed by the results when he had finished. She had a smooth flat ‘V’ in front.

“Here try these,” Steven tossed her a pair Mila’s panties.

She slipped into them and was amazed to see that she looked just like a woman down there.

“It’s going to be hard to take a piss but you’re going to have to figure out that for yourself. I’ve had some trans women tell me they can sit down and piss just like a lady and others have told me they have no choice but to untuck, take a piss, and then tuck and tape again. Figure it out and quick. Peter won’t want you coming back from the ladies room in a nice restaurant with a piss-soaked evening gown.”

“Ok get untucked and then you do it,” Steven ducked out on the balcony and lit a cigarette.

Mila was surprised how easy it was to tuck with a little practice; she wished makeup was that easy. She followed Steven out on the balcony.

“Can I have one of those?” she pointed to the pack of Marlboro menthols.

“Does Mila smoke?” Steven asked.

“Secretly yes,” Mila replied.

“Then you better have one,” Steven offered her the pack and then lit her cigarette for her.

“You sure know a lot about this stuff,” Mila leaned on the balustrade and blew smoke.

“Thirty years in the theatre starting out at the bottom you learn a lot. I spent a year working at a drag review,” Steve leaned on the rail beside her.

“But you aren’t gay?”

“Shit no. Not all the drag queens are gay either but most are. I’ll tell you what though… I’m not gay but trannies don’t count,” he slapped Mila playfully on the ass and butted out his cigarette.

“Come on, we’re nearly done for the day,” he opened the curtain for Mila to step back inside.

Mila was still trying to get her head around the ‘trannies don’t count’ jibe but there was too much going on in her head.

The doorbell rang and Steven grinned.

“Just in time. Fix your makeup honey and check your tuck, it’s time for a fitting.”

Steven came back upstairs with two packages. He opened one which contained a white satin brassiere. Steven had Mila stand naked in the middle of room while he fitted and adjusted it.

“That looks good,” he said more to himself than to Mila.

He tossed Mila a pair of Haynes, fifteen denier, sheer-to-the-waist tan pantyhose.

“You know how to put these on?” Steven asked.

Mila blushed. Not just because she had worn them before when impersonating her sister but because she liked to wear them for sexual gratification when the urge took her.

Mila sat on the edge of the bed and rolled up one of the legs of the pantyhose and slipped it over her foot and eased it up her calf and then she did the same with the other foot. Because her legs were freshly shaved the sheer hose felt delightful against her sensitive skin as she eased them up her thighs and then up around her waist. She smoothed out the wrinkles in the legs and adjusted the gusset around her tucked penis.

“You’ve done that more than once or twice,” Steven said.

Mila ignored him and took the pair of white full-cut satin panties and stepped into them. She sighed audibly as she pulled them up her legs, the satin slipping over her nylons created little sparks of delectation and Mila bit her lips to prevent herself from sighing again. Her cock was becoming uncomfortably thick between her legs but the tape held.

Steven helped Mila to her feet and had her turn around while he examined her critically.

“You’d pass nine times out of ten. We need to work on your posture and mannerisms but you look good. Here; take a look,” Steven led her over to the full-length mirror.

Mila was amazed. She’d seen herself dressed as a woman before but she looked beautiful with her platinum blonde hair caressing to her shoulders, her pretty face with smoky eyes, her perky breasts, slim waist, tight buttocks and long legs clad in the gossamer hose.

“Slip these on,” Steve put a pair of black four-inch high heeled pumps on the floor.

Mila put a foot in one of them and it fitted perfectly, then Steven steadied her while she slipped into the other. She stumbled and fell against him and he held her close, his face inches from hers, he inhaled her perfume. He saw the alarm in her face and he helped to steady her and then released her.

“Look now.”

And she did and she loved what she saw. Her stance wearing the high heels pushed out her buttocks and put more shape into her calf and thigh muscles so her legs looked even longer and sexier.

They went back into the bedroom, she a little unsteady on her feet but getting the hang of walking in the heels; after all it wasn’t the first time.

Steven lifted a dress off the pile of clothing on the bed and helped Mila but it on. It was scoop-neck summer dress with a flounce to the skirt. Something she could wear during the day and still look sexy. He zipped the back of it for her and took her back to the mirror.

Mila was looking at her twin sister.

“Enough for today. You sleep in this room tonight; we start early tomorrow. You’re getting your first laser treatment then I’m bringing in a voice coach. You’ll be practicing movement and voice most of tomorrow and of course makeup and tucking.”

“Keep practicing your makeup tonight; try to get a nice evening effect. You stay dressed as Mila at all times including your bed clothes. There are plenty here to choose from. Try them all on and see what you look best in. I want a fashion parade tomorrow,” Steven actually smiled at her for the first time.

“Goodnight Mila,” Steven leaned in and brushed his lips on her cheek.

Mila hadn’t even noticed that it had got dark outside.

To be continued

Mila slept in a satin nighty and panties that night but she was untucked of course. There was no sign of Peter Randal and she had the apartment to herself. She had practiced her makeup for a while and walking in heels and then after a light dinner she retired. She had tried on her sister’s clothes and divided them into two piles, those which fit her and suited her and those that didn’t.

Peter had left her some homework, the covenant and tenets of the Church of the Sons of Jehovah. The SOJ was headed up by the very Reverend Ronald Hayes whose great grandfather had formed his church in the nineteen thirties by uniting disgruntled members of evangelical and other right wing Christian churches and bringing them together under the auspices of the Sons of Jehovah in the town of Redhaven Wyoming.

Hayes believed that according to the Christian bible, wives are expected to be submissive in many ways. They are asked not only to be submissive to their husbands but to the church, their community, and God. He preached that at the head of every household is a man and the head of every woman is a man. Wives are seen as second in the family household, and subservient to god and their husbands.

The first Reverend Hayes was already wealthy in his own right when he formed the church and he divided his church into three Orders. The Acolytes were the lowest Order and were the church’s worker bees. They still had a good standard of living and they worked for businesses owned and controlled by the church. The second Order was the Patriarchs who were middle order elder statesmen and held managerial positions in the church’s businesses. The Apostles were the hierarchy and lived together in a gated community.

The Council of the Apostles were the primate of the religious Order and also the board of directors of the church. They ministered to the congregation supporting Reverend Hayes.

All male members and wage earning women were tithed ten percent of their earnings and any windfalls that came their way. The tithes were supposedly used to support the church and pay for those members who worked solely ministerial or missionary duties.

Mila was no expert by any means when it came to religious matters or business affairs but to her it seemed like a bunch of misogynist assholes living the highlife taking back ten percent of the wages from their employees.

The SOJ seem have to have taken aspects of theology and doctrine from a number of legitimate churches and fringe religions and manipulated them to create their own dogma in order to support the beliefs of Reverend Hayes and his cronies. To Mila it seemed little more than a cult but a very profitable and well organised cult.

She had got tired of reading about the SOJ and had fallen asleep early.

When Mila awoke there was a split second when she didn’t know who and where she was but the feeling quickly passed and she smiled to herself and luxuriated in the feel of her satin night attire and pulled the comforter around her and thought about the day ahead.

Despite the morning erection pushing out her panties, she felt very feminine and was looking forward to the day. Mila eventually got out of bed and used the bathroom which got rid of her morning glory; she shaved the sparse hair on her face, brushed her teeth and put on some foundation, powder and a light coating of lipstick.

After tucking, she put on spandex sports tights and gym top and went for a run. She was self-conscious and wore dark sunglasses and a ballcap. The run was uneventful and afterwards she felt exhilarated.

Mila showered and was actually looking forward to putting on her makeup again when she remembered that she was having laser hair removal first thing so she just did her eyes, put on lipstick and brushed her hair. Even without full makeup she still looked pretty. She decided to stay dressed in panties and nighty until after the laser treatment.

Mila was too excited to have anything but coffee for breakfast and Steven Boutros arrived early with a lady wearing a nurse’s pantsuit, carrying a small suitcase.

“This will feel just like little pinpricks, especially on your upper lip. It will only take me half an hour at the most,” the laser lady said, and she was right.

The session wasn’t especially painful and she was advised that she could now wear makeup.

Steven saw the lady out and Mila watched him hand her cash at the door. The lady must have been aware that Mila was transitioning but she never said anything, in fact she hardly spoke at all. Mila supposed that laser hair removalists would likely get many transitioning women looking for permanent hair removal.

Steven returned and looked at Mila’s face very critically.

“You look good. It’s going to take a few sessions to fully eliminate that sparse beard; you’ll need another session in about six weeks. I have purchased a laser removal device so you can do it yourself now you’ve seen how it’s done. Use it as necessary and eventually you will hardly have any facial hair at all.”

“I see you’ve sorted through the clothes I laid out for you which is good. Once you’re confident you will be able to buy your own clothes but you have quite an extensive wardrobe there to get you started.”

“Go and fix your makeup and get dressed, let’s see what you’ve remembered,” Steven took out his phone and started playing with it.

“And good morning to you too Steven,” Mila said sarcastically.

“I’m not here to be your friend Mila; Peter is paying me to transform you, not to keep you amused,” Steven looked up from his phone briefly.

“And where is my soon to be husband?” Mila asked.

“He’s up in Redhaven getting his head around his new job,” Steve replied.

“Those Sons of Jehovah seem little more than a cult to me,” Mila was sitting at the dresser applying foundation, powder and blush.

“I don’t know too much about them. They aren’t exactly secretive but they congregate together and keep to themselves,” Steve said whilst punching a text into his phone.

Mila tucked to Steven’s satisfaction. She was surprised that she was not embarrassed doing so in front of him but like he said, he was her teacher, her mentor. She slipped into pantyhose, once again delighting in the feel of the cool slippery nylon on her legs and the slick feel of her panties sliding up her thighs.

She put on her only bra and selected a designer label flowing day-dress and sat down to put on her only pair of heels. Mila had quickly developed a sense of style, in her previous life she had taken an interest in fashion but this was different, this was so much better.

“Let me see you walk,” Steven said and Mila obliged.

“Hey you’re pretty good Mila, you’ve been practicing. Maybe we should reward you with some new shoes.”

“Do I get to choose?” Mila said excitedly.

“Honey… we are not spending Peter’s money on Louboutin without you trying them on first. Of course you get a say.”

Mila was aware of Steven’s Freudian slip calling her ‘honey’, but she was also aware that becoming Mila meant giving up her freedom. She reminded herself that this was a paying job.

The front doorbell rang and Steven went downstairs to answer it with Mila following behind, being careful on the stairs in her heels.

The voice coach was a severe woman in her forties and once again no introductions were made. She was all business. The voice coach explained that over the next ten days they would be focussing on increasing the pitch of her voice into the average range for a woman her age, decreasing vocal effort and loudness, and increasing breathiness.

They spent an hour voice training, including imitation of female voice models.

Mila’s sister had a distinct husky, breathy voice which made their job easier to some extent. Mila didn’t need to be able to mimic her sister, just be capable of producing a reasonable feminine voice that was close to how her sister sounded.

The hour was mentally exhausting and the coach left her a series of voice exercises to complete and a computer program to run as a study guide.

Mila was lucky in that as well as being a guitarist; she was also the singer in her band and developed a reasonable vocal range.

“Look. You’ve got the makings of great feminine voice. You just need to keep concentrating and practicing. Once you find yourself talking that way without having to concentrate you’ll have it nailed. See you tomorrow,” the voice coach said before she left.

Once again cash was exchanged at the door.

“Why all the secrecy? I don’t know anyone’s names except for yours and Peter’s. Is it really necessary?” Mila asked.

“See what happens when you get excited, you just dropped your femme voice; concentrate!” Steven replied.

“Let’s go back up to your room and practice walking and talking. Remember what I said about developing your countenance; how you need to present yourself to the world as Mila without consciously thinking about it. You need to become Mila.”

“We can have some fun with it. Put on a fashion parade. Show me how you look in the clothes you have selected and if you’re a good girl we’ll go out this afternoon. We need to get you confident being out in public.”

And so they spent most of the day doing exactly that. Mila practiced walking, talking and using feminine mannerisms whilst slipping in and out of her wardrobe. Steven encouraged her, always calling her Mila or honey; it was as if he had never met Miles and knew her only as Mila. Mila wasn’t sure if Steven was just trying to boost her confidence or if he was actually accepting of her as a woman.

A package was delivered during the afternoon and Mila was delighted to find that Steven’s seamstress had put together a collection of brassieres for Mila that would accompany any outfit she decided to wear. There were full-cup, strapless, push-up and sports bras; mainly black, white or flesh-toned but there was a red one, a blue one and burgundy one amongst the collection.

Steven had her strip to her underwear and try them on and then had her choose the right bra to go with the appropriate outfit. It was actually fun. Mila just wished she had more shoes to wear to complete her wardrobe.

They shared another cigarette on the balcony and then Steven surprised her.

“We have created a beautiful women; now we need to accessorise her,” he led Mila inside and produced a large jewellery box.

“Your sister took most of the good stuff, most of this is costume jewellery but some of it is nice.”

They spent an hour deciding what pieces would go with which ensemble. Mila was lost in herself again, enjoying playing dress-up as much as any girl would. Feminine mannerisms were becoming natural to her and her voice seldom slipped. At one stage she was dressed in an evening gown with a plunging neckline, her new padded bra giving her the necessary cleavage and her heels giving her height.

Steven stood close to her and looked at her critically, her blue eyes sparkled and she looked genuinely happy.

He held her at arm’s length, studying her, inhaling her perfume.

“You really are magnificent,” he smiled at her.

Mila leaned in and kissed his cheek. I was such a natural and feminine thing to do. They both stood still, Mila could feel her heart pounding and it seemed like neither of them was breathing.

“Thank you,” she whispered and lowered her eyes

Steven embraced her and she put her head on his shoulders.

“You’re welcome. You are very good pupil. What you did just now was perfect, very ladylike. Flirtatious without being vulgar,” he eased her from his grasp and stepped away from her.

There was no hiding that they were both a little embarrassed.

“Ok. Dress casual; I’m taking you out,” Steven suddenly announced.

Mila took off her dress and slipped into a pair of tight skinny-jeans, the pantyhose helping her legs slide into the stretch denim, she put on a long-sleeved t-shirt and a light jacket over it.

They walked and Mila felt exhilarated to be out on the streets. Two days ago she would never have dreamed this was possible. She was worried that she would be stared at and she was… by appreciative men; no one suspected that she was different.

Steven took her to the park where there was a small crowd, he wanted her to become used to being around people and then he took her to a food truck and made her order tacos for both of them so she could practice her feminine voice. It wasn’t quite right yet and the vendor gave her an inquisitive look but she concentrated and when the vendor made change and she said thank you, she got the inflexion and tone just right. The vendor gave her a wink and she blushed.

They ate in the park and then Steven took her to a bar for a drink. She didn’t want to go in but he took her arm in his and walked her though the door. The lights were bright inside the bar and a few heads turned and a few men stared. She smiled when she realised that she was being appreciated and Steven took her to the bar so she could order.

They had one drink at the bar and then Steven took her back to Peter’s apartment.

“Another chore for you now. I want you to spend at least an hour a day outside the apartment getting used to being around people, getting more confident,” he stopped at the door to her apartment block.

There was a moment’s awkward silence and then Mila leaned in and kissed him on the cheek and said goodnight.

And so it went for the next week, speech therapy every day followed by developing her femininity and reading up on her sister and Peter’s marriage. Peter had left her a potted history of where they had been, what they had done, friends they had made and a number of little anecdotes for her to learn. Peter and Mila needed to behave exactly like a married couple and she needed to know all the little details.

Mila also read more about the SOJ church and the more she read the more cynical she became. She was glad that she and Peter would not have to actually join the church, just abide by their moral code.

Halfway through the second week Steven dropped by and announced that they were going to get her driver’s licence replaced. Her sister had taken her passport of course but had left behind her birth certificate. This would be Mila’s first brush with the authorities. It turned out to be a simple process as she had Mila’s social security number and her birth certificate. The clerk bought up a copy of her current licence and compared the picture to Mila and issued her a new licence on the spot.

Mila now had two valid identity documents.

“Well that was easy,” Mila grinned as they left the building.

Steven was quiet in the car and Mila became aware that they weren’t going home.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

Steven pointed out the windscreen to the South Coast Plaza.

“Time to get you some shoes.”

Mila squealed and put her hands around Steven’s neck and kissed his cheek causing him to swerve the car. She apologised and rubbed her lipstick off his cheek.

They spent six thousand dollars of Peter’s money and Mila was a little embarrassed.

“He’ll consider it an investment; you have to look the part. Besides, the money will come out of your end when he starts paying out,” Steven said dryly as they drove home.

Mila came down to earth with a bang. She had been living in a fairy tale for the last week and half, now the reality that she was about to be a surrogate wife hit home. But with those yummy shoes sitting on the back seat she soon became upbeat again.

“I’m sticking around this evening and you’re cooking me dinner. I want a full on performance from you, call this an audition if you like. Pretend I am your husband who has been away for a while and you want to look your best and please him with your hospitality.”

“You’ve read what those SOJ assholes expect from their wives. I want to see how much you’ve learned,” Steven pulled the car into the underground parking lot.

As soon as they entered the apartment Mila took on a subservient role, trying her best to be the type of wife that SOJ would approved of.

“Come sit down Steven; let me get you drink,” Mila led Steven to a comfortable seat and fetched him a drink.

“Let me start dinner and I’ll come back and ask after your day,” Mila was actually a pretty good cook.

Her interest in the arts and music had also piqued an interest in fine food and dining, not that she could afford it. She prepared a simple meal and made a salad and miso sauce to accompany the tuna she would serve as the entrée.

“Tell me about your day,” Mila sat on the floor beside Steven with her legs folded under her demurely.

Mila doted on his every word and topped off his drink when it was nearly empty.

“I’m a mess. You caught me having just come back from shopping, let me dress for dinner,” Mila kept up the role-play.

Steven stood up when Mila came downstairs half an hour later; he was so taken with her. The concealed lighting picked up the highlights in her platinum-blonde bob, her blue eyes sparkled, her lips were full and ruby-red. She was wearing a simple silver lame sheath dress with a low collar; the hem rested halfway up her thighs which were sheathed in glossy flesh-toned fifteen denier nylons. Despite the fact that she had just acquired three pairs of Christian Louboutin shoes she had decided to wear the simple black high heels that Steven had given her.

Mila walked over to Steven and enveloped him in a cloud of perfume. She gently kissed his cheek.

Steven could not believe that this beautiful woman had once been Miles Francis.

“You are perfect Mila. You have done such a wonderful job in such a short amount of time,” he stared into her sparkling eyes.

“You created me Steven. What you see before you is all your work.”

Mila and her voice coach had settled on a breathy contralto voice that Mila found came to her naturally. It was subtle and smoky and quite sensual to the ear.

Miles had ceased to exist for Mila; she no longer thought about him. Her recent life had begun almost two weeks ago and her history before that consisted of series of imaginary vignettes of her and Peter happily married.

“Come; let’s eat,” Mila took Steven’s hand and led him to the dining table.

The apartment was open plan and she could talk to Steven while she was cooking.

She seated him and poured him wine keeping up the small talk while she seared the tuna and dressed the salad. She took a small glass of wine with dinner and ate delicately, chewing small bite-size pieces of tuna with her mouth closed. Mila kept up the patter all through dinner but encouraged Steven to do most of talking, telling her about his life in the theatre.

“You said something interesting last week. You said not all drag queens are gay but most are. Then you said that you’re not gay either but that trannies don’t count.”

Steven blushed.

“I was being flippant and I apologise for what I said and the way I said it,” Steven began.

“What I meant was that not all men who enter drag shows or all crossdress are gay. Many are heterosexual.”

“But what I said does not apply to you at all Mila because you are neither a drag queen nor a crossdresser.”

“You are just Mila. Yes you are a different kind of woman but a woman still the same,” Steven smiled at her and Mila smiled back.

“And what about ‘trannies don’t count’?”

Steven blushed a brighter red this time.

“Never mind, it’s a stupid saying,” Steven patted her hand.

“No come on Steven, I’m not letting you off that easy,” Mila put her little finger in the centre of her mouth and licked it.

Steven didn’t know if it was a subconscious gesture or something she’d been practicing; either way it was unnerving seeing Mila using an overt suggestive gesticulation.

“There used to be this saying in the theatre that if you accepted sexual favours from a transvestite, that it didn’t count as being gay. It’s stupid, it’s sexist, it’s transphobic and once again I apologise for saying it.”

“Well I think it’s funny,” Mila smiled at him.

“Let me help you clean up,” Steven said to change the subject.

They were uncomfortably close as they stood side by side at the kitchen sink, Steven washing and Mila drying. Steven could smell Mila’s perfume and every movement she made seemed to draw his immediate attention: the flick of a hem, the click of a heel, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand which opened her cleavage. He dropped a fork and when he bent down to pick it up he could see up her dress to her firm coltish thighs and a peek of pink panty. He couldn’t help but caress the little wrinkles in her stockings at the back of her knees.

Mila giggled and then blushed.

“Oops; my nylons are bagging.”

Steven was again not sure if it was a deliberate gesture on her part when she put one foot after the other on a kitchen chair and smoothed out her nylons. It was such a feminine thing to do and also very sensual.

Mila led Steven back to the comfortable chair in the lounge and once again sat on the carpet beside him.

“You’re not wearing your new shoes,” Steven commented.

Mila reached behind the seat and dragged out a shoebox.

“Because I think it should be you who first puts them on my feet,” Mila put the shoebox in his lap and scooted round front of him.

She kicked off her heels and extended one foot and put it in his lap. Her gossamer-clad leg was fully extended; the hem of her dress had receded to the top of her thighs.

Steven caressed her foot, enjoying rubbing the soles of her feet, the red nailpolish on her toenails glimmering through the reinforced toe of her stocking. He tweaked her toes playfully and she giggled, then he slipped the red-soled high-heel on her foot. He stroked her ankle as he admired the leopardskin print on the shoe. She put her other foot in his lap and he did the same.

“Let me show you,” Mila stood and paraded up and down in front of him showing off her new heels.

They both laughed and Steven reached out and pulled her into his lap. The put her hands behind his neck and leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. He stared at her beautiful face for beat then spoke.

“And… scene!” he announced.

Mila looked at him confused.

“Sorry… it’s a line that the director or acting teacher uses to cut off a scene that has either reached a natural conclusion or is rambling on unproductively. In this case you were perfect. You played the doting housewife perfectly with just enough sass.”

Mila still had her hands locked behind Steven's head.

“It was easy to do,” she stared into his eyes.

The lounge was shrouded in semidarkness lit only by a standard lamp in the far corner but Steven could see the glimmer in Mila’s deep blue eyes, her long lashes enhanced with mascara, her cheeks enhanced by a dusting of rouge and those plump red lips defined by the sheen of her lipstick. Mila’s mouth was slightly open and when he lowered his face and pressed his lips to hers she sighed.

Steven made to break the kiss but Mila tightened her grip around his neck and kept his lips pressed to hers. Mila’s tongue slowly entered Steven’s mouth and it was his turn to sigh; his hand fell naturally to her thigh and softly caressed it.

Mila purred and kissed him harder, snuggling her buttocks into his lap. She felt him become erect against her bottom and she felt an amazing femininity and power. She too was becoming erect and it was becoming painful. She desperately wanted to free her tumescent penis from between her legs but she was afraid it would ruin the moment.

Nothing overtly sexual had occurred yet but that soon changed when Steven lifted her in his arms and carried her to the lounge. He lay her down gently and then he lay beside her.

“Are you ok?” he whispered.

“Oh god yes… it’s just… it’s just I don’t know what to do,” Mila sighed and looked a little sad.

“We’ll work it out,” Steven said as his lips closed on hers.

Steven stroked her hair while he kissed her and Mila put her hands around his neck and pulled him to her, she opened her lips and slid her tongue into his mouth, she could feel Steven’s erection poking into her thigh while he stroked the other. The feel of his fingers caressing her sensitive skin through the gossamer nylon was exquisite and she became tumescent again.

Mila wriggled a little and Steven broke the kiss and looked at her concerned.

“Are you ok? Have I gone too far?”

“Mila’s face burned with embarrassment and she nodded at Steven and looked down at her belly.”

Steven smiled.

“I think I can fix your problem,” he whispered in Mila’s ear and began to kiss her again.

His hand strayed across her flat belly and down to the top of her thigh and Mila shivered in anticipation. Steven’s hand drifted under her dress and began to crawl up her thigh. Mila was breathing heavily around the deep kisses and when Steven’s hand drifted across the front of her satin panties she gasped.

Steven bought his fingers to her waist and slid them inside the waistband of her pantyhose. He gently removed the tape holding Mila in place and when her erection sprang free he laid it flat against her belly, encased in her pantyhose and her panties. Mila allowed her testes to descend.

Steven bought his hand back outside her dress and patted the bump on her lower belly.

“Is that better?” he whispered in her ear.

“Shut up and kiss me,” she pulled his face to hers.

And Steven did; passionately. His hand went back under her dress and stroked her hard cock through her panties and pantyhose and Mila began to writhe. She had done this to herself before but having Steven do it to her while she was dressed as Mila was the most amazing thing to have ever happened to her.

She could smell her perfume and taste her lipstick and Steven’s mouth, her body felt alive, caressed by the sheath dress, her brassiere, her panties, her nylons, even the tight feel of the high heels on her feet. Steven felt Mila’s cock become fully tumescent and begin to throb as he stroked and squeezed it through her panties; Mila was writhing in his grasp and he crushed her lips with his.

The feel of her cock being manipulated through her pantyhose and panties was incredible and Mila felt her orgasm begin to build. Steven felt the wetness of her precum through the gauzy fabric and felt her penis begin to tremor. He lifted the hem of her dress up her body and stroked Mila’s cock harder and faster.

“Oh god!” Mila cried out.

Mila drummed her feet on the couch as she writhed and wriggled, filling her panties with hot creamy sperm. Steven continued to stroke her, milking her cock of every drop. The viscous fluid formed a puddle on the front of her panties as it erupted from her cock and then runnels of the hot spend dribbled down her thighs.

Mila had the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced, the consciousness of being dressed enfemme, lingerie, nylons and heels, the taste and smell of makeup, her hair caressing the nape of her neck and of course Steven's intense kissing and his expert manipulation of her erupting penis. It was nothing short of astounding.

Mila’s cries of ecstasy turned to sobs and she began to cry. Steven wiped away her tears and held her close. Mila opened her arms and invited him to mount her which he did, never breaking the kiss. Mila locked her legs around his and put her arms around him, holding him close, kissing him, and feeling his cock pressing into her belly.

She stopped sobbing and smiled around his kiss, she felt contented and happy. She wanted to return the joy she was feeling and reached for Steven’s belt.

Steven gently moved her hand away.

“Not yet. Not tonight. I’m glad you are happy; really happy Mila, but I don’t want you taking that final step until you are absolutely sure.”

“But I am sure,” Mila sighed.

“No; you’re very content and excited but once you do what you were about to do there is no turning back. Think about it for a while. Let’s just be content with each other as we are. I want to kiss you some more and then I’m going home while you clean up. You need to keep that dress away from your crotch; semen stains horribly.”

“Ever the pragmatist,” Mila caressed Steven’s face and kissed him deeply.

Mila slept soundly that night without dreaming. She woke refreshed and put on spandex yoga pants, matching top, running shoes and sunglasses and went for her morning run, smiling when some guys on a nearby lot working construction whistled at her.

When she arrived back at the apartment Peter was sitting in the kitchen.

“Mila? Mila? Is that you?” Peter got off the stool looking at Mila with amazement as he approached.

“My god! Of my fucking god it’s Miles! Steven told me you were good, but Jesus fucking Christ!”

Peter examined Mila closely, he touched her breasts.

“These are a bit smaller.”

He put his hand on the moulded V of her crotch.

“How the fuck did do you do that?” he squeezed.

Mila batted his hand away.

“Don’t touch me like that; and there is no Miles. If I can go to all this trouble to be Mila you can at least behave like my husband and show me some respect.”

“I’m paying for you; I own you! I’ll treat you how I like,” Peter sneered.

“It will take me only fifteen minutes to bring back Miles. It will likely take you as many years to pay off your debts when you lose the SOJ job. See you later you fucking creep,” Mila wrenched herself out of his grasp and made her way to the staircase.

The front door opened and Steven entered the apartment.

“What the fuck are you doing Peter? You’re paying me thousands of dollars to create Mila for you and you fuck it up five minutes after you meet her. Show her some respect you fucking misanthrope or we’re all out of money.”

“But she’s supposed to behave like my wife!” Peter growled.

“Yeah and that worked so well with the first Mila. You’ve read that bullshit the SOJ publish about a wife being obedient to her husband. Well it also talks about a husband respecting his wife.”

“This version of Mila will not be pushed around and you need her more than she needs you; you fucking moron!”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Peter’s anger was intense.

“You; you fucking moron! There I said it again! Now go and apologise and start treating your wife with respect.”

“I thought it was huge risk trying to create Mila but she’s perfect. She’ll pass. What you both need to do is behave like husband and wife for the next week. Practice, practice, practice and remember it might be a sham marriage but you have to be convincing.”

“Now go upstairs and apologise to Mila.”

Peter knew that Steven was right and he sighed and then clomped upstairs resignedly.

It was a new dynamic for Mila. She had just got used to being herself and now she had to learn to be Peter’s wife. Steven helped out.

“Look you two, especially you Peter, this is your chance to get it right,” Steven had them sit side by side.

“What do you mean; get it right?” Peter asked defensively.

“Look… I’m not in the blame game and I don’t know what went wrong but your relationship with Mila was a disaster. We can’t have that this time. Not because we’re trying to save a marriage but because we are trying to make money.”

“The SOJ covenant that you are about to enter into requires that you be married and have a stable relationship; the backbone of their faith is that a man marries a woman and cares for her and she devotes herself to him. Separation or divorce means excommunication for church members and a breach of contract for you,” Steven explained.

“The SOJ covenant is modern slavery but I’m willing to play along for the money,” Mila said.

“Ok Steven, I just spent ten days with the Sons of Jehovah learning about their businesses and observing their way of life. They treat their wives and families like chattels but they are respectful. I do that and moderate my behaviour as needs be because besides anything else, those assholes have a lot of money and they are going to pay me well, which by default means we all get paid well,” Peter said.

“Once again Mila, I apologise for being an asshole and I will treat you with respect,” Peter said to Mila and took her hand.

“Ok. A good start. Mila you have come a long way, you are near on perfect but now you need to apply your vigour into becoming a wife to Peter. Peter, you are right, you are an asshole; you just need to moderate your behaviour.”

“Remember your backstory. You’ve been having some marital problems but have been to counselling and are determined to get your marriage back on the rails,” Steven explained.

It wasn’t that hard pretending to be Peter’s wife. Mentally Mila had actually become her sister, being Peter’s wife was all pretence and pretty easy to do. All she had to do was dote on him and be subservient to him while he was around and all he had to do was pretend that he had love and respect for her.

The hardest part of that week for Mila was not being able to be alone with Steven for any length of time.

Steven only visited Peter’s apartment occasionally now that Mila was totally transformed. He still had a theatre company to manage. Mila still had daily voice coaching lessons but she no longer required tutelage and deportment lessons from Steven. Peter was in and out dealing with the move and preparing himself for his new job.

One afternoon Mila went to see Steven at the theatre unannounced, wanting to surprise him. She was directed to his pokey office in the back of the theatre located down a gloomy passageway obscured by props and other bric-a-brac used in performances.

He was sitting in his chair concentrating on a script when Mila sneaked up behind him and playfully put her hands over eyes.

“Hello Mila. I’d recognise that perfume anywhere,” Steve removed her hands from his eyes and stood, taking Mila in his arms.

They kissed, long and hard holding onto each other tightly. Mila had taken off her coat and she was wearing the same simple silver lame sheath that she had worn when he came to dinner. His hand dipped under the hem of her skirt and he was delighted to find that she wearing hold-up stockings. Steven played with the welts and then his fingers drifted across the pale, sensitive skin of her thighs and found her hard in her panties.

“You didn’t tape, you naughty girl,” he smiled at her.

Mila squeezed his erection through his pants. She had been both dreaming of and dreading this but when her fingers wrapped around his hard flesh all trepidation left her. She felt feminine but she also felt powerful.

Steven gasped in her mouth as he kissed her when she began to stroke him and he stroked Mila through her satin panties. Mila freed his erection from his pants and worked her fingers along the veiny shaft and smooth bulbous head, beads of precum issued from his glans.

Mila broke the kiss and began to lower herself, holding onto Steven’s body until she was on her knees before him. She eyed the dewy droplets of pre-ejaculate and licked her red-lipsticked lips.

Steven watched her intently.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Mila replied by taking him into her mouth and locking her lips around the base of his shaft whilst using the tip of her tongue to lap at the sweet-salty precum. Steven held onto the desk as he became weak at the knees.

Mila had been dreaming of this, wanting to experience what it was like to have a man desire her, want her, beg her to sexually satisfy him while she remained in control and satisfied her own wants and needs.

It was over quickly. Mila worked her lips up and down Steven’s shaft whilst slavering his glans and licking his fraenulum with her tongue. Holding the base of his erection while she worked his cock with her mouth made Mila feel excited and empowered; she slipped a hand under her dress and freed her cock from her panties.

Mila’s seed splattered on the wooden floor at the same time that Steven filled her mouth with his musky spend. Mila swallowed it, not all repulsed; in fact it excited her and increased the intensity of her own orgasm.

When she had finished with Steven’s cock Mila licked him clean and put it away and zipped him. She took a tissue from the box on his desk and wiped herself. She would have to wait for her erection to subside before she could tuck.

“Well that was unexpected,” Steven helped Mila to her feet.

Mila frowned.

“And delightful of course,” Steven smiled and she grinned back at him.

“You told me to think carefully and to be absolutely sure before I did anything like this. For that last week I have been having nocturnal emissions but the dreams accompanying them have not been of me fucking women. They have been of Mila pleasing a man.”

Steven opened his mouth and Mila put a finger over his lips and silenced him.

“I don’t want to psychoanalyze it. I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t want to spoil it. Since our dinner together when you seduced me I have come to realise that I am a special woman and that I take the greatest pleasure when I behave like one in all facets of my life.”

“Oh… I see,” Steve said thoughtfully.

“Also I just wanted to see what it would be like to suck a cock,” Mila grinned.

Steven actually blushed and was speechless.

“I’m joking,” Mila smiled up at him and kissed him.

“What about Peter?”

“Peter is definitely not getting his cock sucked,” Mila replied sarcastically.

“You know what I mean,” Steve was suddenly serious.

“We haven’t spoken about it in detail but we have tacitly agreed that ours will be a platonic relationship. Openly we will be the couple reinvigorating our marriage whilst behind closed doors we will be civil and courteous to each other. He knows he can’t fuck around in Redhaven so he will need to find other ways to amuse himself.”

“He will be travelling a lot for his job and I’m sure that so long as he is discreet while he is out of town he can sew his oats with professional ladies who know how to provide such services.”

“And you?” Steven asked.

“I’d like to visit you here in LA every so often if that’s ok. Now that I am about to become rich I can see me becoming a patron of the arts,” Mila grinned.

Steven pulled her into his arms and kissed her but it was short-lived as they heard the clatter of footfalls down the corridor.

“Shit!” Steven looked down in alarm and saw the splatter of Mila’s semen still on the floor boards.

He pulled a couple of tissues from the box on his desk and dropped them over the mess and rubbed them with his shoe and then he kicked the tissues under the desk.

“Ever the gentleman,” Mila kissed his cheek and turned to leave as the door opened and one of the production crew came into the office.

*****

Mila and Peter flew out five days later flying first class to Jackson Hole. Peter ordered champagne as soon as the plane was airborne.

“To a new beginning,” he smiled at her and they clinked glasses.

Peter was irritating and contemptible but he could be a charmer when he wanted to be. Mila was both excited and trepidatious about leaving LA and moving to Redhaven.

“Let’s make it official shall we? This is an exact copy of the one Mila took with her when she ran away.”

Peter took a plain white-gold wedding band from his pocket and slid it onto the ring finger of Mila’s left hand. He leaned in and softly kissed her cheek. It was first time that he had touched her since he had been rude to her in the kitchen.

“Mister and Mrs Randal,” Peter offered her his glass and they clinked them again.

They transferred to a private jet for the short hop from Jackson Hole to Redhaven.

They were picked up in a limousine and driven into town where Peter and Mila had been booked into a suite at the Redhaven Lodge, a small luxury hotel owned and operated by the SOJ. They were treated like royalty but left to their own devices so they could settle down.

They had eaten room service and were both dressed in night attire. Mila wore her usual satin and lace nightie and panties with a sheer robe over and Peter wore silk pyjamas. They were having a nightcap before retiring, the suite had a second bedroom that Mila would use and then make up the bed in the morning so it looked like they had slept together.

“We meet the Reverend Ronald Hayes, his wife Mandy, Brian and Dianne Hislop and Jim and Helen Benson tomorrow at the Sons of Jehovah Supreme Temple.”

The Supreme Temple was an ornate, extravagant, marble-clad building that consisted of an enormous church and also accommodated the church’s business offices.

“Don’t forget that you have met the Hislops and the Bensons when you accompanied me to apply for the position. They are Reverend Hayes closest friends. We had dinner with them right here in this hotel.”

Talking like this helped Mila create false memories that she could regurgitate when needed. Luckily the visit had been short and they were the only people Mila’s sister had met. Peter told her that her sister had been pretty well grilled by Dianne Hislop and Helen Benson who were obviously feeling her out.

She and Peter rehearsed how they would interact and discussed how they thought the day would develop. It was essentially D-Day, the day that Peter would sign his contract and they would begin to reap the rewards of his new-found position.

They both slept soundly and were picked up after breakfast in a chauffeur-driven limousine and taken to an imposing building surrounded by lawns and gardens. They were driven around to the rear of the Temple and led inside to be met by Reverend Ronald Hayes, Mandy Hayes, Brian and Dianne Hislop and Jim and Helen Benson. The men were dressed in expensive suits and the women wore tailored skirts and dresses, hosiery and heels, heavy on the makeup with perfectly coiffed hair. They were accessorised with jewellery that was obviously expensive and every fingernail on display was painted to match their lipstick.

Mila felt right at home in her navy-blue Armani skirt-and-jacket suit, shiny black Louboutin pumps and Wolford barely-there stockings. The women sized each other up critically as women tend to do and offered air-kisses while the men shook hands. One of the women complimented Mila on her new hairstyle.

They were led into a large reception room and offered coffee by a pretty young woman wearing maid’s attire.

“Now you all get to know one and other a little better and play nice while I take Peter into my office for a little while to finalise the legalities,” Reverend Ronald Hayes gave the small congregation his winning smile.

Ronald waved at an oak door let into the wall and Peter opened it and stepped inside the large office it gave entrance to. Ronald stepped around Peter and strode to his desk and indicated a hard-backed chair set in front of the impressive desk. This miffed Peter a little as there were two, two-seater couches arranged around a big low-set table and a couple of comfortable leather wing-back chairs along the walls. Peter felt like a schoolboy sitting in front of the Principal.

“Look around Peter,” Ronald waved his hand magnanimously around the office.

Everything in the office was expensive and most if was collectible. The paintings on the walls, the books in the bookcase, the statues placed strategically around the room, the décor and furniture all exuded wealth and power.

“Impressive,” Peter noticed there were few religious artefacts in the office except for a large leather-bound bible on a plinth that had religious icons carved into it.

Beside it on another plinth was another large ancient tome titled ‘The Book of Pairings’.

“You bet it’s impressive and being the senior pastor of the Sons of Jehovah I know exactly where every piece came from and how much it’s worth.

“I can tell you to within a few hundred K how much our business holdings are worth, our property, our franchises, and our church. I can tell you within a soul or two how big my ministry is.”

“I know all this because I need to know all this; knowledge is power as they say,” Reverend Ron rested his hands on a large file.

“So the BS stops here Peter.”

“I know you are broke. I know that you’ve been putting on airs and graces for a while now, living on credit. I had your finances fully audited and did an extensive background check on you. You can’t rub two nickels together except for the advance I gave you.”

“Didn’t check too much into your personal life but I dug up enough. The story about you and Mila having marital woes is true. That pretty little wife of yours has been wrapping those long legs of hers around her yoga instructor. She was about to skedaddle with him too I was told, but somehow you managed to reign her in and hold onto her.”

“Look. I admire a man who can handle his woman and I don’t know if you used corporal means or financial to keep her in line; I hope it was the former, a woman needs a physical reminder now and then so she knows who’s the boss.”

Peter’s heart was in his mouth. For a minute there he thought the Reverend had discovered his ruse.

“What I’m getting at Peter is don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

“You are the best at what you do and I need you; but I don’t need you that bad that I’m prepared to put my church in jeopardy. You are going to learn things about my church, not just financial things, things that no outsider has ever been privileged to. You toe the line, abide by the rules and stop lying to me and the job is yours.”

“If you can’t do that we’ll put you on a plane and demand our retainer back ok?”

“Agreed Reverend. Mila won’t be doing anymore straying and I’ll be your loyal employee and abide by the rules of your church,” Peter said sagely, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

“This file contains your contract. There is a lot of legal mumbo-jumbo that a lawyer like you will understand but I’ll just summarise it as best I can. It says that if you stick to the terms of this contract you are going to be a wealthy man and if you don’t you are going to wish you had never been born. Do you believe me?”

Peter nodded.

“Then welcome to the Sons of Jehovah. You sign this contract right now, in front of me and then you bring that pretty bride of yours in here to do the same and we are all good and done. You can read the detail later. Ok?”

Peter stood and offered his hand and Ronald reciprocated. They shook hands over the contract and then Peter signed the last page of the bulky document above his printed name.

The Reverend pressed a button under his desk and the door opened and Mila entered looking confused and bewildered.

Ronald invited them to sit down opposite him on the couch at the big low table, his eyes straying to Mila’s thighs when she pulled down her skirt which had ridden up as she sat.

“Nothing for you to worry about Mila. I’m pleased to tell you that your husband has signed a contract with us which has tenured his employment to the Sons of Jehovah for the next two years with an option of two more to follow. We just need you to sign too as his loving spouse and heir to his estate,” Ron handed Mila a pen.

The other two couples and Mandy Hayes had entered the office and formed a circle around the Reverend and the Randals.

Mila knew that to ask any of the many of questions that were rattling around inside her head would put the deal in jeopardy so she smiled graciously at her husband and signed above her name.

“That’s marvellous. I think you two should seal it with a kiss,” The Reverend stretched out his arms in praise.

Peter and Mila stood and Mila leaned in and he kissed her cheek.

“Oh come on now. You’re amongst friends, kiss that girl like you mean it,” the Reverend chuckled.

Peter took Mila into an embrace. It was the first time he had felt her body against his and he was surprised that she felt so good in his arms. She smelt good too. He could feel her shaking a little and he hoped that the others thought that she was just expressing her profound happiness for her husband.

Peter pressed his lips to hers and Mila knew that to show any form of abhorrence would expose their deceit. She closed her eyes and put her arms around Peter’s neck and kissed him deeply, supressing her feelings of revulsion. Mila had felt completely feminine and comfortable when she was intimate with Steven but she didn’t feel any affection for Peter, but she was a good actress.

“Ok, enough you two or we’ll have to find you a room,” the Reverend chuckled.

Peter and Mila released each other, both blushing.

“No need to be embarrassed. Our church condones open displays of affection between married couples. It’s good to see commitment between a husband and his wife; nothing below the waist of course,” Ronald joked and the assembled couples laughed with him.

Peter and Mila were confused by the pious public façade of the SOJ and the private innuendo.

There was hand shaking and cheek kissing all round and from somewhere a bottle of ice-cold champagne appeared and a toast was made. After the toast Peter and Mila were led outside the opulent building.

Parked at the bottom of imposing marble steps were a brand new BMW sports car and a Mercedes saloon.

“Guess who gets which car?” Ronald crowed.

“You follow Brian and Dianne and they’ll take you to your new abode. We’ll send your bags over later,” the Reverend made a shooing motion and went back inside with his wife and Jim and Helen Benson.

To be continued

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

Mila was glad when Sarah returned from her holiday. Sarah had been to Bali with two other Redhaven spinsters and came back fit and tanned.

“Sit here and tell me all about it,” Mila insisted when Sarah turned up for work.

“But Mrs… but Mila, there is so much housework to do; I’ve been gone for so long,” Sarah complained.

“Oh pooh to the housework; it can wait. I want to hear about what you and your girlfriends got up to in Bali.”

So Sarah told Mila about how she and her friends, drank, danced and fucked their way around Kuta for ten days.

“Isn't that kinda against the rules or something?” Mila asked when Sarah told her.

“Rules? What rules?” Sarah looked perplexed.

“The Sons of Jehovah rules, the tenets, whatever?”

“I’m not married Mila.”

“Yeah I get that but what about future Pairing. Won’t any prospective partner be put off by… you know?”

“All Sons of Jehovah parishioners get eight weeks holidays a year during which they may travel outside of Redhaven. Obviously married couples go together and will often go with other couples. In case you haven’t noticed Mila, Redhaven can be a bit like… what’s that movie with the gopher... Groundhog Day!”

“I work six days a week Mila, so I need my breaks.”

This was the first time that Sarah had spoken ignominiously about life in Redhaven.

“So when we spinsters go on holidays, we let down our hair and relax the tenets a little.”

“So is it sort of like Rumspringa?” Mila asked.

“No! Nothing like that really, but to an outsider, yeah you could say that.” Sarah guided the conversation away from further discussion about the SOJ tenets.

Mila was living a similar lifestyle in her own way. She took a break every couple of months in LA with Steven, but not always. Sometimes if Steven was busy Mila would go out and about in LA by herself. She had found a few clubs that were LGBTI friendly and soon discovered that there were men who frequented those places just so they could hook up with special girls like her. Mila being so stunning she could take her pick and sometimes did.

She and Peter had been living in Redhaven amongst the Sons of Jehovah for over a year. They were never fully assimilated, they both knew that there were secrets that the SOJ would never divulge, nor did Steven and Mila want desperately to know. Although Mila’s interest was piqued after the incident at the cattle ranch she decided to let sleeping dogs lie.

They both knew that there were strange goings on in Redhaven and Mila knew that Peter knew a lot more about how the SOJ garnered its wealth and distributed it to the congregation than he was letting on. Peter was obviously not just some smart corporate businessman and lawyer. He was an expert in finance, markets, hedge funds, private equity, venture capital, basis points, real estate and bonds; but all this stuff could be learned. Peter apparently had some niche abilities that the SOJ valued enough for him to be allowed to live among them.

Not that Mila was complaining too much. The money was great. No… the money was fabulous. No… the money was everything! The money was the reason that she could tolerate living in Redhaven; a town far divorced from the real world.

Except for having all the trappings of a modern society, it was almost like 1950’s suburbia and with the restrictions applied by the church the women were almost like Stepford Wives, right down to the way they dressed, behaved and were subservient to their husbands and to men in general.

Mila knew that the Sons of Jehovah owned vast business interests including ranches, lumber, a very well respected furniture manufacturing company, a string of outlet malls and had coal seam gas interests. All the men and women in Redhaven were employed by the SOJ because the SOJ owned and ran every business in Redhaven including the utilities, municipal and domestic services.

But if that wasn’t strange enough there was this undercurrent of sexuality and promiscuity. The sexualising of the girls when they come of age, the Pairing, the way women were required to dress. But it was more than that. The Sons of Jehovah tenant that men and women should enjoy each other’s bodies whenever they felt the urge seemed to be practiced to the extreme.

Mila would walk into a coffee shop or a restaurant and see a woman sitting in a man’s lap while they kissed and canoodled in public, the man blatantly putting his hand up her skirt. The patrons seemed less interested in the couple than they were in the menu. Overt sexuality was almost a norm, albeit curtailed as soon as any outsider, including Mila was around.

She had once rounded the corner in the back alley behind her hairdressing salon and caught a man fucking one of the hairdressers against the wall. The couple had just smiled at her and got back to business. Women and men kissed each other passionately where a peck on the cheek was the societal norm, and more disturbingly, some men kissed other men’s wives a little more affectionately than decorum would dictate. And of course there was the incident with Jim Benson and the maid Angie at their welcome party.

Mila had tried to bring up the subject with Sarah but even though she spoke openly about some aspects of the SOJ tenets, there were some she would not discuss.

But Mila was in turmoil herself. She had been living as Mila for so long now that all vestiges of Miles Frances had disappeared; nothing of his spirit remained. Mila was committed to her gender identity and sexuality and had no wish to return to her old life, even when she eventually left Redhaven.

This was a discussion that she had to have with Peter; it would be only fair to include him. Besides which, she and Peter’s relationship had developed into an allegiance. There was an attachment and genuine tenderness between them now, being forced to live together under the same roof, indeed in the same bed, as husband and wife had become more than a ritual. They trusted each other and she had to admit, they liked each other. Peter had become a better person living with Mila in Redhaven.

They were like shipwreck victims clinging to each other surrounded by the flotsam of the Sons of Jehovah.

“I’d like to become Mila permanently,” Mila said to Peter when they met in the privacy of their bedroom at Mila’s insistence.

“You already are,” Peter looked a little quizzical.

“I mean like forever; even after we leave Redhaven and go our separate ways,” Mila replied.

“Seriously? I thought it was all about the money with you. I knew you were enjoying being a woman, playing the woman’s role when you have sex, but I honestly thought it was just something you were toying with.”

“Ok, it’s not new, nowadays people change their gender all the time but it will be a bit drastic chopping off your junk and then finding out you’ve made a mistake,” Peter said a little indelicately.

“I’m not chopping off my junk Peter! My junk is staying right where it is; I like my junk. I’m having the veranda remodelled, so to speak,” Mila smiled at him.

“Wow! Great! Good idea! Get some double Ds honey and let me play with them, we can tell those SOJ assholes that I paid for the boob job,” Peter teased her.

“I’m not getting double Ds; I’m getting something that I like and that is appropriate for my frame and even though we are married you do not get to play with them,” Mila leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Ok Mila seriously, I’m happy for you. You are a better version of Mila than your twin sister ever was, and probably better looking and more feminine too,” it was Peter’s turn to kiss Mila’s cheek.

“Ok stop the bullshit honey. For obvious reasons I can’t get the work done in the US but I don’t have a passport. Is that something you can fix for me?”

“Sure, I have someone who can fix that.”

When Peter returned from his latest business trip he gave Mila a passport.

“Thank you so much Peter,” Mila squealed when he gave it to her, running into his arms and kissing him.

Peter hugged her and returned the kiss but then it just got awkward and they disengaged.

“Ahem. I’ve found a clinic in Manila that does good work. I’ll be gone for ten days.”

“I’ll cover for you Mila. Let’s get our story straight and then we can tell Sarah that you’re heading off on another holiday.”

“And I bet the news will get to the beloved Reverend before you even go back to the Supreme Temple,” Mila hissed.

“You still think she’s spying on us? I thought you and Sarah were friends?”

“Oh she is a dear friend but surely she can’t afford to go to Bali for two weeks on a maid’s wage? She’s getting paid a lot extra for something and I think that something is to watch us and report back.”

“Mila, you know I rarely talk business with you but let me tell you this. Sarah’s wage as a house servant in Redhaven is equal to that of a doctor in LA.”

“How is that Peter? How can they afford to pay her so much money?” Mila asked.

“Well it serves a number of purposes, some I know about and some I’m speculating. First off, everyone in Redhaven is paid by the SOJ because they work for the SOJ, so there is no limit as to what the church can pay their employees.”

“If you want to keep your congregation happy and want then to live in relative isolation with archaic, misogynist, dogma then you better give them some incentive rather than just the promise of the afterlife.”

“So everyone is paid ridiculously high wages and everyone gets eight weeks holiday a year. That would make things tolerable right?”

“Also have you noticed that the women here not only don’t complain about being made to dress like 1960’s fashion models and be openly subservient to men, they actually seem to like it?”

“Every private party we have been to, we have always been the first to leave, in fact we have been asked to leave, usually on the premise that the other partygoers are going to perform some religious right that we cannot witness.”

“Well that’s true,” Mila speculated.

“Even though they are usually well and truly full of booze by then,” she continued.

“So what do you think? Oh my god! You think they are having orgies or something?” Mila squealed.

“I think a lot of wife-swapping goes on at least. You’ve noticed how some of the men are very handsy with other guy’s wives,” Peter confirmed that Mila was not paranoid, he saw what she saw.

“But going back to the money. Every wage-earner in Redhaven, with the exception of yours truly of course, is tithed ten percent of what they make. The church withholds ten percent of those ridiculously high wages but counts it as a donation so it’s tax free income.”

“So if you put it all together: the three Orders within the church, the Pairing off and marriage at an early age, no single men allowed, the banishment of those who do not wish to live the SOJ tenets, the willing subjugation of women who exist to pleasure men and bear children, the extremely high standard of living and generous vacation time so people can blow off steam… it’s not a bad way to keep your congregation happy but also control them at the same time,” Peter summarised his hypothesis.

“But how hasn’t his got out? Why isn’t it the lead story on FOX News or Sixty Minutes?” Mila asked.

“I don’t know and I don’t want to speculate to be honest. I just take the money and keep my mouth closed.”

“The Sons of Jehovah and Redhaven itself is not exactly a secret but no one, except for us as far as I know, has ever been able learn too much about them. They are a closed society.”

“And why is that Peter? What special skills do you have that allows us to live like we do?” Mila asked.

Peter paled and looked earnestly into Mila’s eyes.

“That’s something you’re better off not knowing.”

“Are we safe?” Mila asked for the first time since they had arrived at Redhaven.

Peter gently pulled her into his arms and brushed the bangs out of her eyes.

“I’d never let anything happen to you. You’ve kinda grown on me,” he kissed her softly on the lips.

“You kinda need me for your cover story,” Mila grinned up at him.

“You should talk about cover stories! Anyway, go and get your new tits, you’ve earned them,” Peter released her and patted her playfully on the buttocks.

When Mila went downstairs there were a hundred questions she wanted to ask Sarah but she didn’t dare.

*****

Mila came out of her anaesthesia in a private hospital ward in Manila. When the doctor showed Mila her new breasts she was delighted; they were a perfect B-cup, almost exactly the same size as Mila’s ‘chicken-fillet’ falsies. They looked amazing although they were a little tender and swollen from the surgery, she liked the heft of having real breasts on her chest.

She stayed overnight at the clinic and then moved back into the Makati Diamond Residences. She was surprised to find Peter waiting for her in her suite. He had a huge bouquet of flowers and kissed her cheek softly, holding her gently, aware that she might be in some pain.

“What are you doing here?” Mila asked as she arranged the flowers in a vase.

“I wanted to see your new tits.”

“No, not really. I was due a vacation anyway and we haven’t been away together since we arrived at Redhaven and I don’t want the Reverend and his cronies getting suspicious.”

“So it’s not that you wanted to make sure I was well after my surgery.”

Mila was standing near the sink with her back to Peter. She was surprised when he lightly placed his hands on her shoulders and gently nuzzled her neck.

“Look I know I’m an asshole but something has changed. Living in Redhaven, living with you, I think some of your decency had rubbed off on me.”

“Shut up Peter, if you keep talking like that I might begin to like you,” Mila fiddled with her flower arrangement.

“But I still wanna see your tits,” Peter smiled.

“I might let you; if you’re a good boy. You can take me to dinner tonight, I’m starving, I have hardly eaten a thing for two days.”

“Sure. Are you bringing your new tits too?” Peter ducked when Mila threw a teaspoon at him.

“Asshole!” she chuckled.

Mila and Peter made a holiday of it, shopping in the Green Belt, drinking San Miguel beer and Tanduay Rum, dancing and singing karaoke at the local bars and sightseeing around the city.

On the day before they were due to fly out Mila had the last of her dressings removed and the doctor told her that the fine scars on the underside of each of her breasts would fade and eventually become almost invisible. For now they were two very small pink lines that no longer caused her any pain. Peter had accompanied her to the doctor and he took her out for a farewell dinner to celebrate. Neither of them was particularly looking forward to returning to Redhaven but the practicalities of life and the garnering of a secure income were paramount.

Back at the Makati Diamond they had a last drink in the lounge room that interconnected the two-bedroom suite they were sharing. Mila actually curled up on the couch, resting her head on a pillow on Peter’s thighs as they watched TV.

“We’re almost like some old married couple,” Peter joked.

“Hey! A bit less of the old, buster!” Mila thumped him playfully.

When Mila started to doze, Peter picked her up and took her into her room and laid her on her bed. He showered and went to bed, feeling tired himself.

He was awakened an hour later when something disturbed his bedclothes. He held his breath as Mila climbed under the covers and snuggled up to him, spooning. She was wearing some exotic perfume that intrigued him.

“Is this ok?” she whispered.

Peter nodded; he was more than a little confused. The feel of Mila’s warm soft body clad in her negligee felt good against his bare flesh, Peter only wore his briefs to bed. Mila nuzzled his neck and wrapped a leg over his; he could feel that she was wearing nylons. Her new breasts pressing into his back were both comforting and arousing.

‘Who wore nylons to bed?’ he was thinking.

He turned to face her and saw that she was also wearing full makeup.

“What’s going on Mila?” he whispered.

“Don’t you want to see my new tits?” she whispered back, her eyes rife with mischief.

“It would be churlish of me not to because you went to all that trouble to bring them over here,” Peter jested.

“I was going to send them by themselves but because I’ve only just got them I wasn’t sure that they would find their way home,” Mila replied.

Peter turned on one of the spotlights over the bed. Once again he was struck by how beautiful Mila was and wondered why it had taken him over a year to realise it; maybe because he was grappling with her being a transgender woman or because he was too busy with work.

Mila held her negligee open and showed off her pert bosom and smiled proudly.

“Nice. Can I touch them?”

Mila nodded.

Peter touched Mila’s breasts, softly feeling the heft of them, then he stroked them with his fingertips and Mila shivered.

“Am I hurting you?” Peter sounded genuinely concerned.

Mila shook her head and smiled at him, putting her hands over his, directing his fingers to her nipples. They hardened to his touch.

“Do I repulse you?” Mila asked, searching his face for any sign of deception.

“I was just thinking to myself how foolish I’ve been not see that the most precious possession I have has been living under my roof.”

Mila was about to reply when Peter put a finger to her lips to silence her.

“Look it’s always been about the money, I get that and it still is. But I’d like to turn our marriage of convenience into a marriage of convention.”

“But only if you want to too.”

He took his finger from her lips so Mila could reply.

“What about me being transgender? I have no intention of purchasing the matching designer vagina to go with my new tits,” Mila bit her lip.

Peter frowned.

“I don’t need you to do that. At least I don’t think I do. All I know is I want you; I want to make love to you. I think I might have some idea how to do that but I’m willing to let you to teach me. I don’t want to hurt you or to…”

Mila silenced Peter up by pressing her lips on his.

She reached out to turn off the light but Peter put his hand over hers to prevent her from doing so.

“I want to look at you. You are so beautiful; I want all of my senses to appreciate you.”

This time Peter kissed Mila and pulled her close. She wrapped a leg over him and opened her mouth so he could put his tongue to her. Peter slid a hand down to her leg and stroked her shapely thigh clad in the gossamer hold-up stockings.

“Do you always wear nylons and makeup to bed?”

“Do you always ask stupid questions when you’re supposed to be making love to the person in bed with you?”

Mila quietened him again by kissing him.

Peter let Mila take the lead. They kissed passionately for a long time, taking the time explore each other’s bodies. She kissed his chest and licked his smooth flesh all the way down to his belly. He reciprocated and when he took Mila’s nipple into his mouth and suckled it she gasped and cradled his head, it was a wonderful feeling. Peter spent some time caressing, licking and sucking her breasts and Mila appreciated it.

She was erect inside her flimsy panties but she didn’t know if Peter was ready to touch her there yet. She took him in hand and squeezed his quite substantial cock, then caressed it with featherlight strokes using her fingertips, listening to him moan and kissing him when he encouraged her to stroke it harder. She resisted and instead went exploring his body again with her lips and tongue but this time continued down his belly and took him in her mouth.

She suckled his cock and squeezed and stroked his scrotum. Peter was leaking copious amounts of precum which she greedily swallowed. She froze when Peter’s hand grazed her cock through her slinky panties, not sure if it was intentional.

Mila was assured it wasn’t when Peter took her in a firm grip and began to stroke her, rubbing the soft satiny fabric on her hard pulsing shaft.

“You don’t have to do that,” she whispered.

“Shut up,” he whispered and guided her head back to his cock.

Peter stroked her cock, freeing it from her panties.

Mila felt Peter’s hands on her shoulders drawing her away from his groin; he pulled her close against him and kissed her, still stroking her. She took him in hand and stroked him too.

“This is wonderful,” he sighed and Mila nodded.

She wriggled underneath him and put a pillow in the small of her back. Her negligee had been discarded and she was wearing only stockings and panties, Peter’s briefs were lost in the covers.

Peter pressed his cock against hers, the satin panty providing delicious little shards of delight as they frotted, kissing each other and caressing wherever they could lay their hands on each other. When Mila could take no more foreplay she lifted her legs, putting her ankles on Peter’s shoulders. She eased the gusset of her panties aside and guided his engorged penis to her entrance.

“Will I hurt you?” Peter looked down at her pretty face with concern.

“I’m a girl scout,” she grinned up at him.

Peter looked confused.

“I’m prepared,” she smiled up at him.

“Please do it,” Mila sighed.

Peter slowly entered Mila, taking his time and enjoying every second of the wondrous feel of his phallus sliding into her tight anus. She smiled up him, encouraging him and when he was fully enveloped in her and his groin pressed against her buttocks, she moaned and pulled his face to hers and kissed him. She lowered her legs and wrapped them around his flanks and wriggled her buttocks.

“Now you can fuck me,” she whispered in his ear.

“When I’m ready, I like this,” he covered her mouth with his.

Mila could feel his engorged shaft filling her anus. It felt wonderful, throbbing and palpitating against her prostate and her tight sphincter. Mila wanted to feel the power of that magnificent phallus and she began to writhe beneath him, encouraging Peter to fuck her. Their bodies pressing together also ensured Peter’s hard belly pressed on her panty-clad cock. Peter could feel her poking his belly and to his surprise it felt wonderful knowing that he had caused her raging erection and the dribble of precum leaking from her glans.

They built up the tempo, enjoying each other, kissing and caressing as they fucked each other. Peter withdrew nearly all the way and then slowly inserted himself until the hilt of his cock was buried deep inside her.

Mila was mewing, totally immersed in the pleasure of their fucking, rising to meet his thrusts, nibbling on his lip, driving her tongue into his mouth.

Peter pushed Mila down into the bed and held her there and buried himself deep in her anus as he groaned and emptied himself deep inside her. Mila writhed beneath him and he felt her scalding issue spatter on his belly. He began to fuck her again as his orgasm intensified and Mila got in rhythm as he pounded his cock in and out of her until he was exhausted and lay on top of her panting.

Mila lay under him, astounded at the passion they had generated between them. The lust, tempered with tenderness and Peter’s newly blossomed adoration.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, waking in the early hours to slake their desires again and then fell asleep exhausted.

On the journey home they held hands and canoodled in their first class seats. They behaved unashamedly like young lovers.

Sarah was waiting for them when they got home and helped Mila unpack while Peter went straight to his office to catch up on work.

“Good vacation?” Sarah asked.

“Wonderful,” Mila grinned.

“Your first holiday together since you arrived,” Sarah commented.

“I’d know that look anywhere Mila… was it a second honeymoon or something?” Sarah grinned conspiratorially.

“Yeah… it was something,” Mila sighed.

*****

“No more taking turns wanking in the sheets,” Peter joked as they prepared for bed that night.

“Yeah… but I bet you still make me sleep in the wet spot,” Mila joked and threw a pillow at him.

Peter retaliated and a full on pillow-fight erupted ending with Peter on top of Mila and the first wet spot of the night.

“Who would have thought we would become lovers?” Peter sighed, holding Mila close in post-coital bliss.

“Well technically I’m your wife,” Mila nibbled his ear.

“Yes. You are,” Peter kissed her.

Mila and Peter settled back into their routines in Redhaven but it was different now. They didn’t have to pretend they were a happily married couple and the completeness they found with each other made living there tolerable to a greater degree. Mila broke off her relationship with Steven with no regrets by either of them; Steven was still getting his monthly hush money. She and Peter did things together; they were like a newly married couple exploring the boundaries of their relationship.

They almost stopped questioning the Sons of Jehovah’s foibles and eccentricity, the undercurrent of malevolence and the secrecy.

Until one day…

One of the maddening things about living in Redhaven for Peter and Mila was Sundays. Everything closed down and everyone except the sick, first responders, and essential service personnel attended services at the Sons of Jehovah Supreme Temple. The services began at 9am and ran until 4pm in the afternoon and included a picnic lunch on the lawns. Reverend Hayes and his Apostles presided over the services, ceremonies and scripture teachings that held no interest for Mila.

There was absolutely nothing for Peter and Mila to do until the evening when they would undoubtedly be invited to a dinner party or some other social engagement. This was fine when Peter was home but when he was away on business Mila became bored.

She decided to postpone her daily run until the church services were about to start, that would eat into some of the boredom. She dressed in her tights and sports top and hit the streets, waving to the guard on the front gate at Apostle Gardens as she left the housing estate and ran through the leafy streets of Redhaven.

All vehicular and foot traffic was headed to the centre of the town to the Temple but as she turned onto the main street of the commercial precinct Mila noticed a bus idling at the curb. A line of women were embarking, some chatting animatedly and some looking downright despondent.

Mila spotted Sarah Jennings in the line and ran over to say hello.

As she approached Sarah looked up and saw Mila. She looked alarmed and frightened and shook her head vigorously indicating for Mila to move along and not to approach her. Mila jagged back onto the sidewalk and ran around the block instead.

Mila was very confused.

The women were all dressed provocatively in short skirts, nylons, heels and tight blouses; their hair was down and some had teased out their locks. The women were town spinsters and they were all wearing heavy makeup and the reek of perfume as she ran past the line-up of ladies about to embus wafted on the still morning air.

Mila ran home as fast as she could, her curiosity piqued to the extreme. She snatched up her purse and her keys and jumped into her BMW and drove into town. The bus had left but there was only one road in and out of Redhaven and Mila took the arterial route and soon caught up with the bus. She dropped back and followed from a discreet distance.

The bus turned off onto the river valley detour and then onto the spur road that led to the ranch. Mila knew that she wouldn’t be able to get through the guarded gate onto the ranch but she was profoundly curious as to why a group of single women from Redhaven were dressed up like hookers and being bussed to a cattle ranch.

Mila turned around and drove back home, wishing that Peter was there so she could tell him about it.

She speculated to herself as to why the spinsters were segregated and bussed away and not attending Sunday Temple. There were services at the SOJ Supreme Temple every day but Sunday worship was compulsory. Did the spinsters have their own services at the ranch? That would be odd. Mila knew that there was one person she could talk to who knew the answer. The only question was would she be willing to tell her.

Mila could hardly wait for Sarah to turn up for work the next day. Sarah was dressed in her uniform black dress with white trim and full skirt above the knee, white half-apron, tan hosiery and black low-heels. Her makeup was as usual heavy but Mila noticed that she was using it to conceal a bruised lip and tiny graze on her cheek. Now that Mila came to think about it Sarah was sometimes a little morose on Monday mornings and sometimes had the odd bruise on her knee or puffy lips.

They sipped coffee in the quiet house and Mila reached out and placed a finger gently on Sarah’s lip.

Sarah looked away.

“What happened? Don’t tell me you fell off a horse at the ranch because you certainly weren’t dressed for horseback riding.”

Sarah looked at Mila with alarm

“What do you know about the ranch?” Sarah exclaimed.

“I saw the bus go out there yesterday. Also, some time ago, two guys with big guns turned me away from the gates of the ranch and the sheriff escorted me back to town.”

“You stay away from there Mila! There is nothing for you at the ranch, only trouble, big trouble.”

“I’m surprised Peter hasn’t told you so.”

“I didn’t tell Peter about the time I drove out there on my own. I don’t know why. Peter and I weren’t in a good place at the time and I didn’t want him to get angry,” Mila snapped.

“Can you tell me anything? If the ranch is part of the church’s business empire why doesn’t anybody that works there live in town? I’ve been here a long time Sarah and I have never heard any of the women say their husbands work there. In fact no one talks about it much.”

Sarah reached out and took Mila’s hand in hers.

“If Peter hasn’t told you anything about it; I certainly can’t. Ask your husband when he returns but I doubt he knows much about it himself.”

That closed the conversation but Mila was not going to let sleeping dogs lie.

When Peter returned they had their first argument since they had become lovers. He doubled down on Sarah’s warning to stay away from the ranch and told her not to ask questions about it.

“Mila, come here,” Mila let Peter pull her down into his lap.

“Look, I told you there are aspects of my employment that you are best not to know about.”

“I also promised you that I would never let anything ever happen to you and I won’t, but you have to trust me.”

Mila sulked in his lap.

“Look, my contract is due to be renewed in six months; what do you think?”

“Are you asking me because you need a surrogate wife to fool the SOJ?”

“No I’m asking you because for all intents and purposes you are my wife and I care for you and I want you to be happy.”

“I tell you what I think. I think you should ask for a raise,” Mila pouted.

“Funny you should say that; they want to double my wage,” Peter grinned.

Mila nearly fell off his lap.

“Peter that is a lot of money! I’m talking astronomical.”

“And you get your cut,” Peter replied.

“I have a lot of money now; the question is how much is enough?” Mila mused.

“I can tell you how much if you want me to; it’s simple arithmetic. I’m guessing that now that you have had a taste of the high life you won’t want to live like a common middle-income schmuck.”

“Well I have developed a taste for nice things,” Mila put her hands around Peter’s neck and smiled at him cheekily.

“Look; I think another two years and we can both retire. I mean never work again and live in the lap of luxury,” Peter said.

“But you have to stop snooping. These SOJs might look like bible-thumping, sex-addicted, nut-jobs but they are dangerous bible-thumping, sex-addicted, nut-jobs.”

“Sure, I can be a Stepford wife for two more years,” Mila blew in his ear.

“You’re hardly a Stepford wife,” Peter cuddled her.

“Ok. I’ll be a good girl. What’s that poking in me in the ass by the way?” Mila nipped Peter’s earlobe.

“Wanna come upstairs and find out?” Peter kissed her.

“Let’s christen the couch,” Mila slipped her tongue into Peter’s mouth and the christening began.

Mila’s life was incident free for the next three months; she ignored the bizarre goings on in Redhaven and was content to go with the flow. Her relationship with Peter became deeper, their genuine affection for each other had blossomed into adoration, they hated to be apart. They took a holiday to Hawaii and Mila ventured out in a bikini for the first time, confident in her ability to pass as a woman.

After the holiday Peter was due to fly on to Chicago on business when they passed through LA on the return leg and Mila was returning directly to Redhaven via Jackson Hole.

They stayed overnight and met up and had dinner with Steven Boutros who they had told about their relationship. There was no jealousy between them. They were adult about the fact that Steven had a fling with Mila, it was over with now.

“Believe it or not; I’m now a one woman man,” Peter grinned.

“And I’m a one man woman,” Mila chimed in.

“And even more of a woman than when I first met you. If I didn’t think Peter would punch me, I’d ask to see those perky puppies,” Steven grinned and nodded at Mila’s chest.

They had moved on to a crowded night club for after-dinner drinks and Mila looked at Peter questioningly.

“What the hell. If it wasn’t for Steven you would never exist and I would never have fallen in love with you,” Peter smiled magnanimously.

Mila grinned and quickly unbuttoned her blouse and flashed her breasts at Steven. The bar where they drinking erupted in applause and an impromptu boob flash contest broke out amongst the women, fuelled by happy hour margaritas.

Later that night as they cuddled in the big hotel bed Mila was lying on her stomach beside Peter lazily stroking his chest.

“Was that a Freudian slip in the bar this evening?” Mila asked.

“What was that?” Peter asked innocently.

Mila gave him a withering look.

Peter rolled over and straddled Mila and stared down into her deep blue eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“But how can you? I’m…” Peter put a finger on Mila’s lips.

“You’re perfect. I’ve thought long and hard about it; this isn’t a high school crush, it’s not just infatuation. I decided not to question what I feel. I love you,” Peter kissed her.

“I love you too,” Mila whispered.

*****

Mila said goodbye to Peter at the hotel, his flight was leaving LAX four hours before hers and she had no intention of waiting in an airport for that long even though she has access to the United Club.

As she passed through security she was taken aside by a TSA official without explanation and led to a small windowless room. Despite her complaints she was not told why she had been detained. She was worried about missing her flight but knew better than to get into an argument with the TSA Nazis who seemed to take great pleasure in wielding their powers. Peter’s theory was that any asshole that drops out of high school and spends a year guarding the Starbucks at the local mall can join the TSA. Mila was sure it was some sort of mix-up.

After being left to stew for over an hour two men dressed in suits entered the room.

“Special Agent Duckworth, FBI,” the first man flashed credentials at Mila but gave her no time to scrutinize them.

“Senior Agent Morrow, DEA,” the second man followed suit.

Both men were tall and muscular and Mila felt crowded as they seated themselves across from her at the small table. Agent Duckworth had the tray into which she had placed her personal possessions at the security checkpoint. He had taken her pocketbook from her handbag and was perusing her driver’s licence.

Now Mila was worried.

“Mrs Mila Randal, wife of Peter Randal, formerly of Los Angeles County California now residing in Redhaven Wyoming,” Agent Duckworth read from a sheet of paper.

“Is that a question or a statement?” Mila was angry now.

Neither Agent answered.

Agent Morrow rooted around in his briefcase and laid a series of twelve by ten glossies on the table. Mila tried to be defiant and not look at them but she couldn’t help it, she was naturally curious. The pictures were of Reverend Ronald Hayes, Brian Hislop, Jim Benson and three other Apostles of the Sons of Jehovah.

“What is this about please?” Mila asked.

“Do you know any of these men?” Agent Duckworth replied.

Before Mila could answer there was a loud knocking on the door.

“Not now!” Agent Duckworth yelled at the door.

The rapping became louder and then the door opened. The TSA official was looking angry and defeated as he stood aside and a handsome elegant man wearing an expensive suit and carrying a slim briefcase entered the room.

“Say nothing,” the man snapped at Mila.

“Who the fuck are you?” Agent Morrow asked angrily.

Agent Duckworth however bowed his head resignedly.

The dapper man produced a business card and placed it on the table.

“Duke Russell, attorney at law and I represent Mrs Mila Randal.”

“What the fuck?” Agent Morrow was about to stand but Agent Duckworth gripped his arm and held him in his seat.

“I presume no Miranda warning has been read nor charges laid against my client but you have detained her without a warrant for over an hour now.”

The lawyer scooped up all of Mila’s possessions and put them in her handbag and handed it to her.

“We are leaving Mrs Randal,” Duke motioned for Mila to stand and follow him.

Mila stood and clutched her handbag. She walked around the table and out the door followed by Duke Russell who closed the door behind them.

“Fuck!” Mila heard expletives and the crashing of furniture from the interview room.

“What’s going on?” Mila was both scared and angry.

“Follow me please Mrs Randal,” Duke replied by way of an answer.

Mila stewed in silence as she and Duke were escorted to a discrete exit down onto the runway apron and then driven to a private jet.

“You won’t need your boarding pass, we’re going straight to Redhaven,” Duke chuckled.

Mila was seated by an attractive hostess who brought her a much needed vodka tonic, Duke took whisky and surveyed the flight attendant’s ass with great interest whenever she bent over.

“Now we can talk and I bet you have many questions but let me speak first,” Duke began.

“Look, First Amendment abuses and political surveillance by the FBI are well known so I won’t bore you with the details. They make a habit of devoting disproportionate resources to spy on peaceful libertarian groups in civil society. I won’t even bother to go into the Waco disaster.”

“The Sons of Jehovah have been on their radar almost since inception, they have tried to infiltrate Redhaven on several occasions. Anything they don’t understand, they try to dismantle,” Duke sipped his drink.

“Are you telling me that the Federal authorities believe that the SOJ is some sort of evil cult or something?” Mila swallowed half her drink.

“Not at all. They have tried to prove that the SOJ is a criminal organisation and have accused them of everything from civil unrest to money laundering to tax evasion but have never been able to prove a thing.”

“You live there. You live among the Sons of Jehovah. You know they are peace-loving, law-abiding, Christians who simply want to practice their religion in peace and be left alone.”

“So why was a DEA agent in the room?” Mila finished her drink and waved the empty glass at the hostess.

“The Feds will use anything at their disposal to try to subvert the SOJ. Five years ago the ATF raided the Sons of Jehovah Supreme Temple and took away documents and hardware. They found nothing and we sued them in court and won.”

“So why detain me for questioning?” the hostess arrived with Mila’s second drink.

“You’re a soft target. You’re not a member of the congregation and one of very few outsiders with daily contact with the SOJ. Also you are the wife of the church’s senior business and commercial law advisor. They were going fishing.”

“Ok. So now the big questions: how did you know I had been detained and who appointed you to represent me?” Mila had finished her second drink and the hostess bought her a third.

“These are questions best answered by your husband,” Duke gave her a crocodile smile.

Mila had more questions but she was exhausted and suffering from stress caused by her brush with the Feds, the alcohol was also kicking in. She fell into a fitful sleep and awoke when she heard the engines change pitch and sensed the aircraft was descending.

Duke Russell was walking back to his seat from the rear of the plane. He was zipping his fly and grinning. The hostess pulled back the privacy curtain that ran from bulkhead to bulkhead shrouding the lounge area at the rear of the plane. She hitched the placket of her skirt and smoothed the wrinkles out of her stockings.

“Did you just fuck the hostess?” Mila was astonished.

“Perks of the job,” Duke smiled at Mila, adjusting his tie.

When the private jet landed at Redhaven a car was waiting for Mila and Duke. It whisked them away and delivered them to the Reverend Ronald Hayes’ office at the Sons of Jehovah Supreme Temple.

“Mrs Randal I would like to sincerely apologise for the awful experience you have just endured,” the Reverend took her hand and guided Mila to a seat.

“It’s not your fault Reverend,” Mila smiled but was still seething inside.

“I’m sure Mr Russell has explained to you why we are victimised and persecuted by certain agencies of the Federal government. I have arranged for Peter to return to Redhaven immediately, I’m sure you will appreciate being able to return to the loving embrace of your husband as soon as possible,” Ronald smiled consolingly at Mila.

Mila was driven home where Sarah Jennings was waiting for her, ready to comfort her.

*****

“What does she know?” the Reverend sipped scotch and paced the floor of his office.

“Not much I think, and anyway the Feds never got a chance to question her,” Duke sat in a leather wing-backed chair sipping whisky.

“She’s nosey. She’s done her share of snooping since she’s been here,” Ronald continued to pace.

“You need her husband and he needs your money, even he doesn’t know everything,” Duke sipped his drink.

“Do I need to be worried?” Ronald stopped in front of Duke and raised his brows.

“It’s nothing we can’t handle. Relax Ron, business is booming,” Duke smiled.

“I’m not sure having the Randals around is worth the risk,” the Reverend mused.

“We need Peter so we need Mila,” Duke countered.

“I’ll think about it. I want you to stick around a bit,” Ronald said with finality.

“I’ll check into the Lodge and fly out when we’re done. Any new spinsters in town?”

“Mary Quincy has just turned twenty and is unmarried. She’s working as a receptionist at the Lodge. Great ass and fucks like a jackrabbit,” the Reverend grinned.

“Well you’d know Ron,” Duke finished his drink and got up to leave.

*****

Sarah was waiting for Mila and had been told about her experience at LAX however Mila had no time for her condolences or to gossip. She went straight up to her bedroom, closed the drapes, took off her blouse and skirt, kicked off her heels and dived under the covers.

Now that she was home she just wanted to sleep. She was hungover, tired, and overly emotional which was not a good combination. She fell into a deep sleep almost immediately and didn’t hear Peter enter the room later that evening. He took a tube of lubricant from the bedside table drawer, quietly stripped naked and slipped into bed beside her.

Mila roused when Peter sidled up to her and cuddled her. She was warm and smelled of perfume and was wearing a satin full-slip, panties and a bra. She had not taken the time to take off her pantyhose or remove her makeup.

Peter nuzzled her neck and reached around to find her hard in her panties and he stroked her to full tumescence, his cock was nestled in the crease of her buttocks, sliding up and down the satin panty fabric.

“I’m tired, I’m not prepared and I have morning-breath Peter, I’m not in the mood,” Mila whined.

Peter ignored her complaints and continued to stroke her cock which was hard and throbbing.

“That’s not what you dick says,” Peter smiled and pushed his cock hard against her buttocks.

“My dick isn’t speaking on my behalf, she has a mind of her own,” Mila mewed.

“She sure does, what about your ass?”

Peter poked a hole in Mila’s pantyhose. He had lubricated his finger and he slipped it into Mila’s anus.

“I told you I’m not prepared Peter so… oh my god!” Peter expertly found her prostate and began to manipulate it.

Mila’s cock began to palpitate and leak slippery pre-ejaculate.

“Oh that is so good Peter but don’t you dare put your cock in my butt… oh Jesus!”

It was too late; Peter pulled her panties aside and put his pre-lubricated penis inside her pantyhose and slid his cock inside her.

“Mmm…” Mila pushed back against him.

Peter held Mila by the hips and began to slowly fuck her. Mila sighed and offered her buttocks, she pushed them out so Peter could enjoy fucking her tight anus and she could enjoy his thick cock pushing deep inside her. They both preferred the missionary position so they could kiss but when deep penetration was desired, there was nothing better than taking Mila from behind.

Peter fucked Mila with long deep strokes whilst squeezing her cock. As he began to fuck her harder and faster he freed her cock from her underwear and stroked it harder and faster too. Mila was mewing and squealing like a slattern, pushing back hard against Peter as he assaulted her tight ass, fucking her vigorously.

Mila’s anus contracted and her cock convulsed as she came, Peter ejaculated deep inside her, her sphincter squeezing his cock as he milked hers. Her sperm spattered on the sheet and Peter’s semen filled her cavity and runnels of the musky fluid dribbled from her ass as Peter continued to zealously fuck her. He held Mila tight against him and emptied all his issue deep inside her as she writhed with pleasure.

Peter pulled out and rolled Mila over so she was facing him.

“I told you I have morning-breath,” Mila whined but Peter kissed her anyway.

She kissed him back and they lay in each other’s arms kissing and caressing.

“We’re both in the wet spot now,” Mila giggled.

“Like I give a fuck, Sarah has to wash the sheets not me,” Peter replied.

Mila pinched his butt for being naughty.

“Let’s go shower,” Mila wriggled free.

They got out of bed and walked to the ensuite bathroom and Peter ran the water, adjusting the temperature while Mila took off her bra and panties and dumped them in the laundry hamper.

“These pantyhose are ruined, surprise, surprise, I might as well throw them in the trash.”

Mila put her fingers in the waistband to take them off when Peter stopped her.

“Leave them on. I like it when they get all wet and slippery.”

“Who say’s we are showering together? What if all I want to do is wash my body?” Mila teased.

“Yeah right!” Peter picked Mila up in his arms and she pretended to fight against him but he dropped her on her feet under the warm water and pushed her against the tiled wall and kissed her.

She put her arms around him and returned the kiss. It was like kissing under a warm waterfall. Peter could feel her becoming erect in her pantyhose, her cock pressing into his belly. Peter squeezed bodywash onto his hand and began to stroke her.

“There you go, I’m washing your body,” Peter said into her mouth.

*****

Mila sat at the breakfast bar dressed in her negligée and robe, Peter was wearing a bathrobe; they were drinking coffee.

“I can’t take any more lies and half-truths Peter. Why was I detained by the FBI? How did Duke Russell know that I was being held and get to me so soon?”

“Why are you so important to the SOJ?”

The afterglow and relief of having Peter home to comfort and protect her had been replaced by anger and inquisitiveness.

“Mila, I have tried to shield you from exactly what I do here but it seems that even when I get you to curb your curiosity, outside forces come into play.”

“I’m willing to tell you everything I know. Once I do that, there are some things I can’t protect you from. The apophthegm that knowledge is power in this case also means knowledge brings danger.”

“I’ve had enough Peter. Tell me,” Mila said bitterly.

“Ok, I will,” Peter sighed.

To be continued

“When the Reverend’s great grandfather founded the Sons of Jehovah back in the thirties, the congregation deliberately sought isolation so they would be free to practice their religious beliefs without interference.”

“But the Reverend was also an astute businessman and knew that to keep his flock happy he would need to provide for them so the Sons of Jehovah would still need to engage with the outside world.”

“Redhaven Wyoming was the perfect place for them to settle. The Reverend already owned vast acreages on which he had a profitable ranch and was also bootlegging Canadian whiskey at the back end of the prohibition. He founded the town and he started up more businesses whilst at the same time establishing his religion and constituting the tenets which would bind the people to the church of the Sons of Jehovah and their town of Redhaven,” Peter explained.

“You’ve told me that part of the church’s history, that’s common knowledge,” Mila sipped coffee.

“Ok, early on the Reverend and his Apostles realised that the SOJ could evade taxes by misrepresenting the profits earned by their legitimate businesses and use loopholes that exempt churches from paying state and federal taxes.”

“The SOJ also decided to settle in Redhaven because Wyoming has the single most business friendly tax climate of all fifty states and it keeps getting better. Wyoming is almost a tax haven.”

“The congregation grew, the town prospered and people lived comfortably but by the time Reverend Ronald Hayes’ father was running the show he realised that there was more money to be made by investing in certain lucrative illegal businesses which the SOJ were ideally placed to do.”

“Look where we are Mila. We’re way out here in the mid-west and Redhaven is almost isolated but well situated for the activities the Reverend had in mind.”

“Without interference from the east coast or west coast crime syndicates and later the burgeoning cartels down south, the SOJ could get into the lucrative drug market. The ranch was a perfect cover.”

“As the agricultural science became better and technology improved, marijuana plantations producing tons of product were established on the ranch using hydroponic growing techniques and temperature controlled greenhouses. The problem for the SOJ has always been distribution. They have no interest in getting involved in the street level trade or running dealers. They just want to sell their product to organisations who have the financial resources to pay the asking price and the ability to take bulk shipments.”

“So it’s all about weed?” Mila was nonplussed.

Peter held up a finger.

“Think about what you’ve seen here Mila. A closed community bound by bizarre and eccentric religious beliefs, very few outsiders are allowed in and then only for fleeting visits. An almost inexhaustible supply of natural resources in an area that is effectively isolated.”

“But look closer. The road in and out of Redhaven is probably the best maintained highway in the state and there is a disproportionate amount of commercial traffic that mostly originates or terminates at the ranch.”

“Redhaven airport is a restricted general aviation airport with a runway capable of handling large aircraft but no commercial airlines operate from here, it is restricted to charter and private aircraft.”

“I get it. They grow large quantities of weed out at the ranch and use trucks and planes to distribute it,” Mila laid her hands flat on the table.

Peter nodded.

“The SOJ would never make enough money from their legitimate businesses to live the lifestyle they do.”

Mila paled.

“That doesn’t explain why we are here or should I say, why you are here?”

“When I put this deal to you I told you I was in trouble financially right?”

Mila nodded.

“Well I was in more than just financial trouble Mila.”

“I didn’t rise to the top of the corporate ladder by just being a savvy financial impresario and business entrepreneur. I know people, the right people.”

“What I do is find ways and means to bring these people together, even though most of them will never actually meet in person.”

“Sure, I can help you hide millions of dollars created by illicit means. I can close the holes through which certain government agencies would like to peek, but my main job is keeping the wheels greased so everyone gets along and everyone gets rich. I’m a special kind of broker if you like.”

“I know the right people in the right places, I know which wheels need greasing. I know the right business magnates, government stooges and more importantly the top guys in the cartels and organised crime and I have the innate ability to have them cooperate without ever having any legitimate association. I’m the spider in the middle of the web if you want an analogy.”

“My god Peter!” Mila was shocked.

“Don’t my god Peter me Mila! Where do you think the money comes from? You spend it like it like a drunken sailor on liberty and you watch that account of yours in the Cayman Islands get bigger every month.”

“I deliberately kept you from the truth to protect you; at first because I didn’t trust you, but since we’ve been true partners I did it because I love you.”

“But what about the FBI and DEA agents at LAX?” Mila asked.

“I can only do so much, grease so many wheels. I have contacts in the highest levels of government, we control a number PACs and political committees and I have contacts across the spectrum of law enforcement but there are still elements we can’t control.”

“In those instances, the SOJ relies on intelligence from their insiders. Within minutes of you being apprehended in LA we knew about it and the SOJ dispatched Duke to fix the problem.”

“Is that what I am now Peter, a problem?” Mila almost wished she’d never asked to know the truth.

The conversation was interrupted when Sarah Jennings came through the back door. Today she wasn’t wearing her maid’s uniform instead she was wearing an expensive suit with a short skirt, long jacket, nylons and heels.

“Hi Sarah,” Peter and Mila sung in unison.

Sarah’s demeanour had changed. She was normally demure but today she seemed very assertive.

“Get dressed, both you. The Reverend is paying you a visit.”

“What the hell!” Peter interjected.

“Peter, I’d like you to remain down here while Mila and I go upstairs. I’ll help her dress and we can girl talk for a while. When we’ve finished it won’t take long for you to throw on a suit and tie will it?” Sarah smiled.

They were both astounded. They had never seen Sarah behave this way. She was confident and controlling and they both realised that something had changed.

Before Mila could respond Sarah was guiding her upstairs to her bedroom.

“I can dress myself Sarah. I don’t need your help,” Mila was petulant.

“You know I like to help you Mila. Sit down and do your makeup and I’ll pick you out something to wear,” Sarah smiled at Mila is if this was an everyday occurrence.

Sarah allowed her jacket to fall open so that Mila could see the small automatic pistol Sarah had clipped to the placket of her skirt. When Mila saw it, Sarah gave her a knowing look and just nodded.

Mila found it hard to concentrate, a thousand thoughts were running wild and she didn’t do the best job with her makeup. Sarah laid out a suit for Mila, Armani, similar to her own, and a white silk blouse, she also laid out sheer, taupe hold-up stockings and a red satin bra and panty set and Pair of Jimmy Choo high heels. Wherever they were going, they were dressing corporate, even if the lingerie wasn’t.

Mila dressed and Sarah chatted to her as if it was just any other day, obviously her job was to keep Mila calm but also to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid.

“Come on, we can have a cup of coffee downstairs, the Reverend will be here in thirty minutes,” Sarah picked up Mila’s jacket and followed behind her.

While they were upstairs Peter had taken a phone call and he looked grave. He gave Mila a look that said ‘keep calm’ as he passed them on his way upstairs to dress.

“What’s going on Sarah?” Mila asked as Sarah busied herself making coffee.

Sarah didn’t answer until she had poured them both a cup. The coffee was fine but to Mila it tasted bitter and she had a hard time drinking it but she forced herself to remain calm.

“Recent events have changed the dynamic so to speak. There is no longer the need to keep up the charade Mila, you know all about us, well nearly all; and we know all about you.”

Mila paled. What did that mean?

“I can’t say much more, it’s the Reverend's place to tell you what he and the Council of Apostles have in the making,” Sarah sipped her coffee as if it was any other weekday morning.

“What did you mean by you know all about me?”

Sarah just gave Mila a canny grin.

Peter came downstairs dressed in a suit. He always looked so confident, so commanding and assertive but now he looked like he was far from in control, and even more worrying, he looked scared.

A small convoy of three, six-passenger limousines pulled up in the driveway. The vehicles were black, with heavily tinted windows.

“Let’s go,” Sarah nodded at the front door.

Mila and Peter were caught off guard, expecting that whatever business was about to be transacted would be taking place in their home. Mila took Peter’s arm and went outside with him.

“Stay calm. I have no idea what this is about but it’s broad daylight in a busy town, I’m sure nothing sinister is going to happen, I guess we are going to conduct our visit with the Reverend at the Supreme Temple.

Peter could not have been further than the truth.

“You’re with me,” Sarah took Mila over to the second of the limousines where a besuited, powerfully built man stood holding open the rear door.

Peter was led to the last vehicle in line by another aid and he looked over at Mila before he got inside.

“Remember what I said about staying calm. I love you,” Peter said before he climbed into the vehicle.

Mila climbed into the limousine which was cool and dark. She was surprised to see the Reverend Ronald Hayes sitting in the back of the car facing her as she took the rear seat. He made no attempt to conceal his brazen ogling as she and Sarah clambered inside, short skirts akimbo.

“Good morning Mrs Randal, good morning Sarah,” the Reverend smiled as he welcomed them both and Mila cringed when the Reverend gave Sarah a kiss that was far from pious.

Mila was about to say something when the Reverend held up a finger. He was a man used to being incontestably obeyed.

“I will do all the talking for now Mila. May I call you Mila?” it was a rhetorical question.

Mila sat in the back seat facing the Reverend and Sarah. The security screen between the passenger compartment and the driver was up.

“First off I want to assure you that all is well; so far that is. Peter is in the car behind us with Duke Russell who you have met,” The Reverend grinned.

“We know all about you Mila. I won’t use the name Miles because I know he no longer exists.”

Mila thought she was going to faint.

“That was a neat trick that you and Peter pulled. We knew his wife was going to leave him before we hired him and for that reason alone we were going to renege on the deal we had made with him. Then your sister saw the light or saw the money; it doesn’t matter which, we knew that they had reconciled. Or so we thought. We took our eye off the ball so to speak.”

“The preliminary visit they made to Redhaven before the contract was signed went well and all parties were content.”

“Of course we had no idea that Mila had run away with her yoga instructor when she returned to Los Angeles. Your sister is backpacking around Australia by the way in case you are interested. It seems that she has lost interest in the yoga instructor,” the Reverend chuckled.

“So you became the surrogate. Our little sleeper soon found out about the ruse.”

The Reverend had his hand on Sarah’s thigh and he patted it and smiled at her.

“Of course we also confirmed this by other means. We have access to your phones and monitor all of your online activity. It helps that we have the only Telecom in Redhaven but the bugs Sarah placed on your devices assisted us in monitoring you when you were outside of Redhaven.”

“Sarah honey, please give Mila a drink, she looks like she is about to faint and we haven’t even got to the good part of the conversation yet.”

Sarah opened a bottle of cool spring water and passed it to Mila who gulped at the contents.

“I want you to understand that at this stage my Apostles were deeply divided as to whether to keep you both in Redhaven or to have you disposed of. A car accident, a house fire, someone even mentioned a murder suicide, but common sense prevailed, with my guidance of course.”

“You have to understand that some of the Apostles still find you an abomination. But some, including myself, find you fascinating.”

“Then Sarah and I watched your marriage of convenience become a true bond. When you went to the Philippines to get those rather lovely breasts and Peter followed and you came back committed to each other and when you stopped your philandering with Steven Boutros and those appalling strangers in those awful Los Angeles dens of iniquity I was vindicated.”

“But you are such an inquisitive creature aren’t you?”

“Even with the wealth you have amassed you continued to question things that you had no right to question. To quote Gordon Gekko in one of my favourite movies, greed is good. Greed is a tool I use to good effect to keep my flock content. But even as an outsider living in the lap of luxury, with no need to question where the money came from, you couldn’t keep your beak out of my business and question my tenets.”

“Of course we listen to everything that is said in your house and we know that as of this morning you think you know everything. But you don’t. Why? Because even Peter doesn’t know everything. But you soon will.”

“As the rather crude saying goes, I’m going to lift my skirts. I’m going to show you everything and answer all your questions and by the day’s end both you and Peter are going to have to make a decision; a decision that will determine your future.”

“Now you can ask your questions,” the Reverend smirked.

“You hacked our phones and email?” Mila asked.

“Yes and we have GPS trackers in your cars. How do you think my boys knew you were coming when you drove out to the ranch?”

“Ok. A question for Sarah. Why does a bus loaded with spinsters go out to the ranch every Sunday?”

Sarah looked at Ronald and he nodded his consent.

“To work, silly. I told you I work six days a week.”

“We go out there to service the men working on the ranch.”

“Service?”

“Oh don’t be so naïve Mila, you know what I mean.”

The Reverend interjected.

“Single women in our community are considered common property. You yourself have witnessed men taking their pleasure with them whenever they wanted,” Ronald once again patted Sarah’s knee.

“I told you that women who are not Paired by the age of twenty have to make a choice. They can leave the community or stay here abiding by the tenets.”

“You still don’t get it Mila. This lifestyle we live is generational and ingrained from birth, we grow up knowing what lies ahead for us and we each make a choice. You jokingly referred to us being like the Amish but in that respect we are. Men and women get to make a choice during our Pairing years whether to go or stay. As you can see, most stay.”

“But the bruises?” Mila asked astounded at the revelation.

“Some of the cowboys can be a bit rough but if they overstep the mark they are punished.”

“But you let men use your body whenever they want to? How can you do that?”

“I don’t let them; I permit them to. I have the right to say no,” Sarah replied.

“Really?” Mila sounded doubtful.

“Yes I do. And if the man wants to complain he can take the matter to the Council of the Apostles.”

“Have you ever said no?” Mila asked.

“I’ve never needed to,” Sarah smirked and stroked the Reverend’s hand which was still caressing her knee.

“The men on the ranch, the cowboys, are they part of your congregation?” Mila asked.

“Young men who elect to leave the congregation of the Sons of Jehovah are offered a onetime opportunity to work at the ranch. The job is very well paid and there are benefits,” the Reverend smirked at Sarah who returned his smile.

“But they are not part of my congregation and they may not reside in Redhaven. They fly in and fly out like contract workers, the difference being that forfeiture on their contract results in consequences that you probably wouldn’t care to know about.”

“The messy parts of our business are best left to people who are experts in that kind of thing. The cartels have a way of dealing with informers that is quite educational to those who work in dangerous occupations such as the growing and manufacturing of illegal substances on a large scale,” Ronald said with some finality.

“Ah here we are. The practical part of your education is about to begin; a little show and tell shall we say.”

They were approaching the gates to the ranch.

The guards saluted the Reverend and his small convoy and then closed the gates behind them.

“This is actually a working ranch that makes a decent profit from the cattle we raise,” The Reverend waved a hand at the expanse and herds of steers wandering on the range.

The road was dead straight and they were soon approaching the low set buildings that Mila had seen in the distance the first time she drove out to the ranch. As they got closer it became obvious that the buildings were far more substantial than they appeared to be from the gate.

“These buildings are the typical type of buildings you would expect to find on a working cattle ranch. They constitute buildings that house the agricultural equipment, maintenance sheds, cattle pens, feed houses, bunkhouses, a kitchen and a mess and other cattle rearing paraphernalia,” The Reverend nodded as the procession entered a large courtyard next to the building complex.

The car stopped and the chauffer got out and opened the door for them. Sarah and Mila once again found it difficult to maintain decorum alighting from the vehicle wearing short skirts but Ronald and the small assembly of men did not seem to mind one bit.

What followed was a show and tell tour of the ranch conducted from two four-seater golf carts. Mila and Peter were reunited and almost clung to each other in the back of the cart as they were taken on an excursion hosted by Reverend Hayes who drove, accompanied by two armed guards in the second cart. Sarah was escorted to the mess hall to wait. The building had a large sign out front and written in stylised writing were the words Chuck Wagon.

“There is a permanent staff of around twenty to thirty. Some work the legitimate side of the ranch and are really just cowboys and they are all boys who elected to leave the congregation of the Sons of Jehovah but want to work for the church for the good wages and benefits.”

“There are about the same number who work on the other side of the business, including a horticulturist, a couple of chemical engineers, and the men who do the growing and harvesting of the crop and other men who manufacture other products.”

“Meaning marijuana,” Mila interjected.

“I’ll continue,” the Reverend didn’t like to be interrupted and Peter squeezed Mila’s hand encouraging her to keep quiet.

“There are a few ancillary staff, cooks, mechanics, security and so on. They are all housed in the bunkhouses over there and are fed and take their recreation in the Chuck Wagon.”

They were shown massive grow houses where fields on marijuana looked lush and green. The Reverend explained how the plants were in various stages of maturity, how it was harvested and prepared for dispatch. There were two huge climate-controlled barns used to warehouse the marijuana before it was shipped.

Mila and Peter were both stupefied with what the Reverend revealed next.

The underground meth lab was an amazing sight. The Reverend led them down a flight of stairs and they went through an airlock and stood on a viewing platform watching men in protective clothing manufacturing methamphetamine. The Reverend droned on about acquiring precursors, the manufacturing process and the state of the art technology employed which ensured the product was manufactured to maximise profitability.

Mila’s head was spinning by the time the tour was completed and they were driven back to the waiting limousines where Sarah was waiting for them. This time Peter and Mila were bundled into the same car as the Reverend and Sarah, the convoy had reduced to two vehicles.

Peter and Mila had remained pretty much silent throughout the tour, partly from fear but mostly from amazement at the extent of the Sons of Jehovah drug manufacturing capability.

“So Peter, you know all about how the Sons of Jehovah make the millions of dollars that you help us park offshore, put through our legitimate businesses and hide from the authorities. I’m surprised that you never figured out that we could never make enough money from just the production of marijuana,” the Reverend said as Sarah passed around bottled spring water.

“And you, miss nosey-britches, you know things that you were never meant to and probably don’t want to. I know that Peter told you that knowledge is power but that it is also dangerous.”

“So why the tour Ronald, why did you lift your skirts?” Peter asked the question both he and Mila wanted answered.

“Look Peter you already knew enough about our businesses to make your contribution fundamental to our financial success but we were prepared to allow to leave when your contract was up. But you are a victim of your own success and have made yourself indispensable to us.”

“As for the beautiful but unique creature beside you Peter, she poses us a problem. She didn’t really know too much about our business until you for some reason decided to pander to her curiosity and tell her about, shall we say, the dark side of our business.”

“I told you that sometimes corporal means are a better method of keeping women in line. The Apostles are the only church members who have any idea how we make our money and they tell their wives very little. The lower Orders of the church are sheep; they know nothing of what we do on the ranch.”

“There are very few women that we trust with such confidences, Sarah being one.”

“But you bus spinsters out to the ranch every Sunday!” Mila interposed.

“They only see the Chuck Wagon and the bunkhouses. They know not to ask any questions,” Sarah piped in.

“So what are you; their den mother?”

Sarah just smiled and deferred to the Reverend.

“Getting the conversation back on track. You both now know the finite details of our operation so you must realise that neither of you could ever be allowed tell anyone what you saw today.”

“Look, we aren’t your, blessed are the meek, turn the other cheek kinda Christians. We’re more your eye for an eye, whatever a man sows, this he will also reap, type Christians.”

“The easy solution would be for you both to simply disappear, that would be very easy to accomplish but I’d rather keep Peter alive and well and doing for us what he does best. That will of course mean that you Mila keep up the charade of being his loving wife, although it’s hardly a charade any longer is it?”

Mila looked at Peter and gave him a wan smile.

“We’re heading back to the Supreme Temple where I have called together the Council of the Apostles. Of course I always have the final say in how my church is run but it’s always best if I have their support.”

“When we get there you will have a decision to make. This decision will likely be the most important decision you have ever made and it will have to be made together and it will be binding. Mila you have already made one life-changing decision, you are about to make another.”

The Reverend shut down any further conversation and kept himself amused by making small talk with Sarah whilst openly fondling her and she him.”

Mila and Peter were astounded. Their lives hung in the balance and the Reverend Ronald Hayes amused himself by canoodling with their housemaid. The situation was both bizarre and incomprehensible.

When they arrived at the Supreme Temple Peter and Mila were hustled into the Reverend’s private office.

The Reverend took a seat behind his desk and Peter and Mila sat in the comfortable wing-back chairs, Sarah took a seat beside Mila.

“Our children are raised and schooled in the tenets of our religion and as I have explained, at maturity they decide to stay or leave,” the Reverend continued the conversation they were having in the car.

“You know about our three Orders, the Acolytes, the Patriarchs and the Apostles. Our congregation is a hierarchical pyramid both religious and secular. The higher your standing in the pyramid the higher your rewards both divine and worldly.”

“My great grandfather devised a religious order that satisfies the needs of men, to keep them comfortable, content and loyal.”

“It’s easy to keep men happy. Give them what they want: money, sex and power. Top that off with a belief system that is ingrained from birth and you can build utopia, which is what Redhaven is to the Sons of Jehovah.”

“You know how the money and power parts of our religion work and you have some inkling as to the sex, but not the full picture.”

“There are cults out there where the guru, swami, whatever name they give themselves, has the right to mate with any member of the female congregation. How the male members of these faiths condone that is beyond my comprehension.”

“But here, as you already know, there is a practice that allows men to share in the bounty of the women in their Order. Once a couple are Paired the man may decide to share his wife with another man of the same Order and he may partake of that man’s wife.”

“Wife swapping!” Mila blurted out.

“Nothing as crude. It is part of our tenets and keeps men and women from the temptation of becoming unfaithful, we call it the sharing,” the Reverend corrected her.

“But the women have no say,” Mila retorted.

Peter took her hand and squeezed it. The last thing he needed right now was a combative Mila.

“The women have already decided when they Paired and entered the church of the Sons of Jehovah. Our church is not called the sons and daughters of Jehovah.”

“I tell you this Peter and Mila so that you know what awaits you should you join our Order. I am offering you what I offer my Apostles, money, sex and power.”

Peter and Mila look at each other with stunned amazement.

“We will double your wages and you Peter will live like a king and Mila, you will be his queen. So here is your one time offer to join the Sons of Jehovah.”

“Should you elect to join us I will put your names in the Book of Pairings to sanctify your marriage in our church. It is that simple.”

“And the alternative?” Peter asked.

The Reverend steepled his hands under his chin and gave them both a steely stare.

“Sarah and I shall leave you to deliberate and then you will advise the Council of the Apostles of your decision.”

The Reverend stood up from behind his desk and Sarah arose with him.

“We have already decided,” Mila declared.

Peter was shocked and Mila gave him a look that indicated that he was not to interfere.

“Where do we sign?” she asked.

Mila stood and leaned down and offered her hand to Peter who took it and arose.

The Reverend walked over to the Book of Parings and was joined by Sarah.

“Are you sure? I need to hear from both of you?” Reverend Hayes said gravely.

“I am,” Mila replied.

“I am,” Peter also replied.

The Reverend began to write in the Book of Pairings with an ink pen which he dipped into an inkwell set into the plinth.

“Will you witness?” he said to Sarah.

“I’d be delighted,” Sarah beamed.

He offered the pen first to Peter who looked down into the tome and saw the names of Peter and Mila Randal entered into the Man and Wife columns respectively. He signed against his name and then Mila signed. Sarah signed as witness and finally Reverend Hayes signed with a flourish.

“Welcome to the congregation,” the Reverend beamed.

He shook Peter’s hand firmly and kissed Mila on the mouth, holding her close, the kiss lingering. Sarah kissed Mila’s cheek and she gave Peter a long lingering kiss.

“That’s it?” Peter asked almost incredulously.

“That’s it. Of course you will both require religious education but Sarah can school you in your home. She will first educate you in our order of service so that you will not be embarrassed on Sunday when you are formally presented to the congregation,” the Reverend explained.

“Tonight you will lie together as man and wife for the first time under the Order of Apostles of the Sons of Jehovah and tomorrow, as is the custom, you will host your first communal dinner for members of your Order.”

“Peter you will decide who to invite but I suggest that you invite those in the Order that you are already comfortable with. After all, it will be the first time that you partake of the sharing. Sarah will assist you with the preparations and tell you what to expect. Now come and meet the rest of the Apostles,” the Reverend took them each by the elbow and guided them to the door leading to the Council chambers.

*****

After their resounding welcome to the Order of the Apostles and congratulations from all, some more enthusiastically than others, Peter was required to remain behind to conduct business with the Council while Duke Russell was in attendance.

Mila was escorted to the limousine with Sarah and they went home.

As soon as they were inside Mila went straight upstairs to her bedroom without saying a word to Sarah. She took off her jacket and sat on the bed feeling numb. She knew that she and Peter had escaped death but at what cost? They were now members of the congregation of the Sons of Jehovah, committed for life.

There was a soft rapping on the door and Sarah entered holding two gin and tonics. She sat next to Mila and offered her a glass which she took silently.

“Do you mind if I drink?” Sarah asked.

Mila burst out laughing. It started as a deep down chuckle, became a loud cackle and finally a shriek. The shriek metamorphosed into a sob and then a crying jag. Sarah let Mila exhaust her emotions and sat silently beside her on the bed. When Mila began to calm down Sarah took Mila’s drink and put it down with her own on the bedside table. She caressed Mila’s back affectionately and Mila fell into her arms and cried on her shoulder.

Mila stopped crying suddenly and disengaged from Sarah.

“Get my cigarettes. I’m sure you know where they are,” Mila said through gritted teeth.

Sarah took off her jacket and hung it over a chair and went into the wardrobe and took down the shoebox where Mila kept her Marlboro Menthol Lights, her lighter and a smokeless ashtray. When Mila smoked she usually did so out on the balcony but today she could care less. Sarah could sense the ambience and she took a cigarette and lit it and gave it to Mila along with her drink. She shook the packet at Mila, signalling that she would like a cigarette too. Mila shrugged her shoulders indicating that she didn’t care.

Sarah lit up and sat on the bed, putting the ashtray between them.

“Why are you still here?” Mila finally broke the silence.

“I’m still your housemaid,” Sarah whispered.

“You mean Ronald’s spy,” Mila spat.

“Not any longer. There is no need.”

“So the cameras, the bugs the tracking devices; they will all go too?” Mila said caustically.

“There are no cameras Mila. The only microphone is downstairs and it will soon be gone, as will the gadgets on your phones and other devices. Someone will do it discreetly. All Apostles have tracking devices on their vehicles and phones, it’s a safety precaution not a means of spying. It worked for you at LAX.”

Mila grunted.

“If you are no longer comfortable with me Mila I can be replaced. But I hope you don’t. I really like you, I’ve always thought we were friends.”

Mila turned to Sarah; unconcealed rage on her face.

“I know that you always thought I was a spy but we shared so much. I told you things I shouldn’t have but I will always be faithful to the tenets of the SOJ, I had a job to do.”

“You knew I was transgender from the start,” it wasn’t a question.

“Not initially but I began to suspect. You were paranoid about me never seeing you naked or helping you dress. You didn’t want me anywhere near your underwear but I found the brassieres with the prosthetic inserts and your soiled panties had no evidence of vaginal discharges.”

“We had no privacy at all did we?” Mila shook her head.

“I was told to search everywhere and search often, especially when you first arrived. I told Reverend Hayes my suspicions after the first week or so but by then he already knew, probably from your conversations with Peter, your phone calls and your online activity which were all being monitored.”

“Not that I have any say in the matter but I was one of the ones who supported you. When I reported to the Reverend, I told him that despite your deception that I thought you were a decent person and could be trusted.”

“Hah! We’ve all been lying to each other for two years, don’t use the word trust!”

“Why worry about the past? Your life is now ordained, you can have anything you want, go anywhere you want, do anything you want within reason.”

“I’m trapped in a gilded cage, a prisoner in paradise,” Mila responded.

“Oh pooh to prisoner in paradise Mila! You are the envy of every Acolyte and Patriarch; they are happy with their lot but everybody always wants more if they can get it. Stop the pity party.”

Mila couldn’t help smiling when Sarah used the same mild expletive she had used on Sarah when asking about her trip to Bali.

“Can I say something to you that is true?” Sarah asked butting out her cigarette.

“Yeah… let’s have some truth for a change,” Mila crushed out her butt.

“I was genuinely happy when you went to get your breast implants; I knew that meant that you were committed to being Mila for the rest of your life. I was even happier when I witnessed you and Peter falling in love with each other. I think I knew that Peter loved you before he did.”

“The way his attitude to you changed over time, how he came to revere you. The little gestures, the way his face lit up when you entered the room, the way he came to genuinely care for you. Being an outside observer, I think I had the opportunity to see things differently than you or Peter did; I could see the whole.”

“I was overjoyed when you two Paired today and being your witness is a life-long privilege that I will treasure. Despite the subterfuge I think I have grown to love you both.”

“Can you deny that you have been happy for the last two years?” Sarah asked.

“There is that I suppose. I was wondering what would happen between Peter and I when he finished here in Redhaven, now I’m stuck with him for life,” Mila smiled timidly.

“You don’t mean that. You love him I can tell. Also, you do realise that you are not technically stuck with just him for life, I have to tell you about the sharing.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. I get to be passed around, that’s something to look forward to. At least because I’m a freak there won’t be that many that want me,” Mila bowed her head.

Sarah gently lifted Mila's head and leaned in and kissed her cheek softly.

“That is so not true. The women of the Sons of Jehovah gossip just as much as anybody else. There has been plenty of curiosity about you amongst the Acolytes and their wives and plenty who have speculated what it would be like to lie with you.”

Mila was only human, her interest was piqued and Sarah could tell.

She took Mila’s hand in her own.

“You know how beautiful you are, not just physically. Desire is not always just lust,” Sarah whispered.

“I’m a money-hungry mercenary who is prepared to do anything to survive,” Mila replied softly.

“And keep your husband safe. And ensure that both have a wonderful future. You are beautiful Mila,” Sarah stroked Mila’s cheek.

“You keep saying that and I…”

Sarah cut Mila off by placing her lips on Mila’s and gently kissing her. Mila didn’t move, she was caught by surprise at the gesture.

At this moment in Mila’s life she needed affection, she needed to be comforted, she wanted to feel safe, but Peter wasn’t here. Her closest friend for two years was kissing her and it eased her pain, it soothed her, it seemed to be exactly what she needed.

Mila relaxed. For the first time that day she felt calm. Sarah’s soft lips against hers felt soothing and appeasing, she returned the kiss and she felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from her. She didn’t need to think about anything, she could just seek comfort in Sarah’s soft caress.

Sarah put her hand on Mila’s shoulder and pressed harder and Mila turned towards her and they embraced. This was the juncture, the turning point and they could both sense it. Do they break the kiss and profess that it was a comforting gesture between two friends or do they continue and see where it leads?

Mila opened her mouth a little and Sarah tentatively offered the tip of her tongue. Mila sensed Sarah’s tongue slip into her mouth and she met it with the tip of her own. The women teased each other, softly caressing their tongues together, tasting each other’s lipstick, inhaling each other’s scent.

A cloud passed over the sun and the room darkened. Mila reached out and found the remote control on the bedside table and flicked the switch to lower the blinds.

The darkened room nurtured their intimacy and the lingering soft kiss became progressively more eager, more vehement as their lips pressed harder.

They allowed themselves to fall onto the bed, lying side by side, legs overhanging the bed. Mila looked down into Sarah’s soft brown eyes and saw tears. She lowered her face and kissed Sarah softly and opened her mouth a little. Tongues once again met explored, tentatively at first, then amorously.

Mila straddled Sarah and stroked her face softly as they kissed, she delicately drew her fingers down Sarah’s long neck and caressed the velvety flesh. Sarah gasped. Mila’s hand continued downwards to Sarah’s blouse and began to slowly unbutton it. Sarah put her hand over Mila’s and stopped her.

They broke the kiss.

Sarah looked up at Mila, her eyes wet and gleaming.

“Are you sure?”

Mila lowered her face and kissed Sarah, her response being physical rather than spoken.

They could both sense that the yearning they had nurtured and supressed deep down igniting into passion. They kissed deeply and amorously, any pretence that they were simply consoling each other was gone. They unbuttoned each other’s blouses and helped each other out of their skirts.

Mila stripped Sarah down to her black lace brassiere, satin-and-lace boy-leg panties, smoky-grey sheer hold-up stockings and black high heels. Mila was left wearing sheer, taupe hold-up stockings and a red satin bra and panty set and a Pair of cherry-red high heels.

Their need to embrace and connect with each other forestalled them undressing further and they both loved the feel of satin and lace caressing their skin.

Sarah lay on her back with her head on the pillows and Mila climbed on top of her. Crouched over Sarah with her blonde shag hanging over her smudged eye makeup and smeared cherry-red lipstick gave Mila a sexy predatory look that Sarah found exciting. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

Mila noticed the rise and fall of Sarah’s chest and her ragged breathing; she too felt her heart pumping and her breathlessness. Mila lowered her face to Sarah's and crushed her lips, driving her tongue deep inside her mouth. She eased Sarah’s breasts from the cups of her bra and used her hands on them. They were larger than Mila’s but just as firm and Mila felt Sarah’s nipples harden as she stroked and gently squeezed them.

Sarah reached up and unclasped Mila’s brassiere and caressed Mila’s small firm breasts. Mila’s nipples hardened and they both sighed contentedly as they kissed and fondled each other.

Sarah moved her hands to Mila’s waist and paused and then her hands slid down to her buttocks and she squeezed Mila’s firm buttocks. Her fingers drifted to the front of Mila’s panties and stopped. They stopped kissing and Sarah looked up at Mila inquisitively.

Mila took Sarah’s hand in hers and guided it inside her panties and between her legs. Sarah found the surgical tape there and looked up Mila questioningly, her brow furrowed.

“Rip it off,” Mila whispered.

Sarah’s hand was miraculously filled with a long, thick, hard throbbing cock and a look of amazement crossed her face.

“I want to see it,” she gasped.

Mila lifted herself onto her hands and knees and Sarah looked down between their bodies and saw Mila’s magnificent erection poking out the front of her panties. She squeezed it and Mila groaned.

“It’s wonderful,” Sarah sighed.

“I want it in me… now!”

Mila eased aside the gusset of Sarah’s panties and nudged the glands of her penis into the folds of Sarah’s cunt. A look of serenity passed over Sarah’s face and she lifted her legs and wrapped them around Mila’s, raising her pubis, wanting Mila to impale her.

Mila obliged and slowly skewered Sarah on her cock. Sarah bit Mila’s shoulder to silence the scream as her first orgasm erupted from deep within her.

Being fucked by this beautiful woman who possessed a huge phallus and whom she had secretly adored and lusted after for so long illicited a deep and powerful climax.

Mila felt Sarah’s vagina palpitate as she came. Sarah’s cunt was hot and wet and tight and Mila began to fuck her, driving her cock deep inside and pulling it all the way out and then impaling her, gradually building the tempo. Sarah and Mila kissed, nipped and scratched at each other as their lust became an unstoppable race to orgasm. Sarah opened her legs wide and wrapped them around Mila’s waist, the sensation of her diaphanous nylons adding to the mix of carnal arousal and stimulation.

Sarah arched her back as Mila slammed her cock as far inside her as it would go and unleashed a torrent of hot semen. Mila clung to Sarah and writhed as she unloaded her issue. Sarah pushed her groin hard against Mila’s pubis and ground it so that her clitoris was sufficiently stimulated to unleash her second orgasm.

They gasped into each other’s mouths and clung to each other, riding their climaxes until they were spent and exhausted.

Afterwards they lay side by side, drained and satisfied, their fingertips touching, neither speaking.

Sarah rolled onto her side and looked down lovingly at Mila, she brushed the platinum fringe from her eyes. Mila’s eyeliner and mascara were smudged from crying and the sex.

“You look like a Panda. A very pretty sexy panda,” Sarah smiled.

Mila returned the smile.

“Have we just broke the tenets or something? I still don’t know the rules,” Mila’s brow wrinkled.

“I told you where spinsters stand in our community, we are common property to be enjoyed as men see fit. It is not unheard of for a man to take a spinster into his bed while his wife is present. Then she may partake in the pleasure from their combined union,” Sarah replied.

“A fancy way to say that threesomes are ok, but can wives and spinsters, you know, get it on alone?” Mila asked.

“Sharing creates appetites that need to be nourished. Husbands may let their wives share with other men they approve of and may also allow wives to take pleasure with spinsters.”

“You must understand that the tenets are exacting and harsh in this regard. If a wife was to share herself without her husband’s permission she can be excommunicated at his request. Excommunicated women may bear resentment to our church and pose a threat, depending where they stand in the Order,” Sarah didn’t need to explain further.

“This is a very rare occurrence you understand. The fruits of sharing are bountiful and encouraged, there is seldom need for a woman to go outside of the tenets to satisfy her needs.”

“But I didn’t ask Peter’s permission to have sex with you,” Mila mused.

“Yes but you are only recently Paired and not yet educated, there are always exceptions that prove the rule. Once I explain to you both the tenets of sharing you may ask Peter’s permission,” Sarah lazily circled Mila’s belly-button with her fingertip.

“Sounds to me like you are justifying us having a sneaky afternoon shag,” Mila sniggered.

Sarah’s fingers continued past Mila’s belly and circled her burgeoning erection.

Sarah leaned into Mila, brushing Mila’s lips with hers.

“Shall I stop?” Sarah began to slowly stroke Mila’s hardening penis.

“I’m sure Peter will say yes when I ask him,” Mila grinned and opened her mouth to Sarah’s tongue.

To be continued

Happy Australia Day to all those Aussies out there!

Sarah insisted that Mila tell Peter about their tryst as soon as possible. She did not want Peter and Mila breaking the tenets on the first day that they had been accepted into the church of the Sons of Jehovah. But first she had some pressing religious instruction to provide.

Mila invited Sarah to dinner that evening so that she could furnish them both with the order of service for the Sunday observance. Sarah explained that most members of the church attended weekday masses conducted by a Patriarch minister or in some cases an Apostle who has been ordained by the Reverend Ronald Hayes. As is often the case, the higher in the Order one became, the less time was spent in church and more time was spent attending to the church's business.

This was to be the case with Peter and Mila who would only be expected to attend the Sunday service.

"Unless you get a taste for it that is?" Sarah explained.

"Do you attend the Temple outside of the Sunday service?" Mila asked.

"You've read the order of service. Sunday devotion is an all-day event and don't forget that I was raised in the church with daily sermons at school. Once a week is enough for me," Sarah smiled.

"Keep the scripts I have given you and bring them on Sunday, I won't be able to guide you because you will be sitting with the Apostles and I will be sitting with the other spinsters at the back of the church. I will join you both for lunch."

"No ranch duty this weekend?" Mila couldn't help the biting comment.

"No Mila. We are on roster of sorts. I go out there about one a month," Sarah replied stoically.

"Now about tomorrow... I will come over early and help you prepare for your communal dinner and sharing. As the Reverend has suggested, it is best that you invite people that you are comfortable with or in your case Peter, couples whose wives you desire."

Peter blushed.

"Peter. You are an Apostle of the Sons of Jehovah, there is no shame in desiring a woman who isn't your wife so long as you do so within the tenets," Sarah said.

"You may take any spinster who catches your eye unless she refuses, which is almost unheard of. Usually you will bring her into your bed or she may invite you into her home or you may use the Lodge, whatever is convenient."

"When you desire another man's wife you simply ask him 'May I share in your bounty?' and he will either say yes or no. It is accepted that you are offering your wife to him in return."

Peter and Mila were extremely uncomfortable with the conversation.

"Being in the highest Order you may ask any man in any Order to share his wife, but the lower Orders may not approach you. Of course, if you mate with a lower Order wife you will offer your wife in return. The lower Orders consider it a privilege to share with Apostles," Sarah explained.

"And I have no say in it?" Mila asked.

"No, you may not refuse once a sharing has been agreed to by your husband. He may however share another man's wife but the other man may not wish to mate with you or the other man may take you and Peter might not wish to bed the other man's wife." Sarah replied.

"How often does that happen?" Mila asked.

"Rarely," Sarah smiled.

"However given your, shall we say unique attributes, there will undoubtedly be men who do not wish to share with you," Sarah said as delicately as she could.

"Of course there will also be those whose interest is piqued," she added.

"Can I say no?" Peter asked.

"Not really Peter, you must realise that the Reverend and the Reverends before him handed us these tenets as a sanctity that bides together the Sons of Jehovah. We share our wealth and we share our pleasure and we share our responsibility to the church and the tenets. That's why we live in Redhaven and exclude non-believers," Sarah said with conviction.

"But some share more than others," Mila said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"Of course in any society there is a class structure. I would say that the Sons of Jehovah has the fairest hierarchical spectrum. Look around you; there is no poverty, everyone is cared for, all are wealthy to some degree, all are happy and most are free to leave should they so desire," Sarah said with conviction.

"Except for those who know about what really happens at the ranch," Mila said acidly.

"Peter this is where you would correct your wife using corporal punishment," Sarah said gravely.

"Mila you have been accepted into our church, you must abide by our tenets. You will be forgiven some transgressions but only for a short time, it is expected that you will learn and obey the tenets and be obedient and steadfast to your husband," Sarah said calmly but firmly.

Mila found it hard to believe that only a few hours ago she and Sarah had been making love and Sarah had told Mila how much she cherished her.

"Which is probably as good a segue as any for you to tell Peter about what we did this afternoon," Sarah said.

Mila blushed and looked away but she could feel Sarah glaring at her.

Peter was confused and looked at them both questioningly.

Mila couldn't stand the tension, she could feel Sarah's eyes boring into her and she could tell that Peter was baffled and uneasy.

"Sarah and I made love this afternoon," Mila blurted out.

Peter was taken aback at first, then he began to imagine Mila and Sarah on the big bed upstairs going at it.

"Cool," he grinned carnally.

"Cool! I just told you I have been unfaithful!" Mila couldn't figure out why she was upset but she just was.

"What am I allowed to do here Sarah? What are the rules? The tenets?" Peter asked.

"You may punish your wife. You may forgive her. You may grant her permission to use me as a spinster, you may do pretty much whatever you want," Sarah replied.

"Thanks Sarah... he may punish me! You didn't tell me that while we were fucking!" Mila said angrily.

"We must abide by the tenets. He may punish me too should he see fit," Sarah said frankly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, there! There isn't going to be any punishing," Peter interjected.

"What I think is going to happen is that I'm going to grant Mila permission to have sex with you Sarah."

Mila and Sarah were silenced, their anger dissipated and they smiled furtively at each other.

"But I'm also going to exercise my privilege and ask you Sarah to share my bed," Peter smirked.

"Of course Peter; I would be honoured," Sarah replied demurely.

Mila actually felt a little jealous but she knew that she shouldn't.

"Ok ladies enough tuition for one evening. Let's all go to bed," Peter grinned at them both and Sarah and Mila smiled at each other conspiratorially.

Mila could tell that Peter was warming very quickly to his new role as master of the house so to speak and it was obvious he was hot for Sarah. He had his hand under her skirt all the way up the stairs.

But Peter wasn't selfish. He took turns kissing and caressing them both as they stripped to their nylons, heels and panties as he demanded they do. He took some tome time to fondle their breasts and had Sarah undress him while he teased Mila, making her hard in her panties.

Peter had Mila and Sarah perform for him, which they were delighted to do, kissing and fondling each other on the big bed while Peter watched. When he was excited to the point that he couldn't keep his hands off the two beautiful women he joined in.

Peter lay on the bed and had Sarah straddle him, lowering her hot, wet, recently-licked cunt onto his turgid manhood. Peter held Sarah still while Mila positioned herself behind her and slid her lubricated cock deep into Sarah's anus.

Mila fucked Sarah with long slow thrusts, building the tempo. Peter didn't need to move, he could feel his wife's cock through Sarah's vaginal sheath and Sarah bucked and wriggled as Mila fucked her harder. Peter lay back and watched the women fuck as Sarah's cunt clung to his raging erection, working herself up and down on it while Mila fucked her tight ass.

They orgasmed almost simultaneously and when they were done Sarah fetched drinks and they partied on the bed for a couple of hours until they were exhausted. They slept together in a tangle of arms, legs and hard cocks.

When Peter and Mila awoke the next morning Sarah was gone. They snuggled under the covers grinning like children.

"I think you have an affinity for this whole Apostle thing," Mila teased him.

"It's the life we have chosen to lead so why not enjoy it?" Peter kissed her playfully on the tip of her nose.

"Not that we had a choice," Mila replied.

"I kinda like the sharing Sarah thing, we've had her in our house for so long now that she's like part of the family but I'm not sure I'm going to enjoy being passed around by a bunch of strange men this evening," Mila sighed.

"They're hardly strangers, we are good friends with Brian and Dianne Hislop, Jim and Helen Benson and we know the others well enough," Peter reassured Mila and held her close.

"The Reverend and Sarah have made no secret that some of the men are not being happy with me being transgender so maybe I won't be in high demand?" Mila posed.

"You will be the most beautiful woman at the party, any man would be stupid not to desire you," Peter responded.

"You say that like you are looking forward to it; I bet you can't wait to stick your dick into Dianne Hislop, she's had the hots for you since we arrived," Mila punched him in the arm.

"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, I suppose," Peter grinned.

"Wanker," Mila liked the Brit pejorative.

The insult led to a little bed wrestling but no sex. They were both satiated from the previous night and needed to conserve their energy to be able to perform again this evening.

When Peter and Mila had showered they proceeded downstairs to be greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and to find Sarah busy in the kitchen dressed in her high-hemline, white-trimmed, black dress, and white half-apron, tan hosiery and black low-heels.

Mila greeted Sarah and kissed her cheek and Peter kissed her full on the lips.

"Thank you both for last night," Sarah sat across the breakfast bar from the husband and wife.

"I see that you are both learning how to behave. Whilst we were very intimate together last night, it is good that we conduct ourselves with decorum when we are not sharing together."

"The tenets command that we each be true to our Order in the church," Sarah smiled at them both.

"That said Sarah, there is nothing preventing me from bending you over the breakfast bar and fucking you right now," Peter grinned.

Mila groaned and punched him in the shoulder.

"That is your right, as it is your wife's now that you have granted her permission, but practicing restraint when decorum dictates is also a much revered attribute for those of the higher Order," Sarah said deftly.

"While you are at work today Peter, Mila and I will prepare your house for your communal dinner. You have been to many of these in the past, they are really just dinner parties until the evening draws late and the sharing begins. In the past, that was when you were invited to leave if you hadn't done so already. I know that recently you both guessed what happened when you left but tonight you will partake of the sharing."

When Peter left for work, Mila and Sarah busied themselves preparing for the dinner. Peter and Mila had hosted dinner parties before of course but none so important as this.

Mila had a thousand questions about the sharing most of which Sarah declined to answer.

"It is best that you discover for yourself the delights of the sharing. Remember that in Redhaven the wife about to experience her first sharing is usually newly married and has only recently been deflowered by her husband and experienced the delights of sexual congress."

"You can imagine the trepidation and excitement she is feeling. You are very experienced sexually Mila so although you are feeling uneasy about this evening, just try to relax and let the course of events unfold," Sarah reassured her.

Mila took extra care with her hair and makeup that evening and slipped into a pair of Wolford pantyhose that were super-sheer. She forwent panties so there would be no visible panty line when she slithered into her red satin evening gown. Her firm breasts did not require a bra to support them. The gown was backless and split on one side from hem to hip and tight as a sheath. Sarah fussed around Mila ensuring that the dress fitted perfectly and then helped Mila accessorise and put on her four-inch, red patent Jimmy Choo's.

The Hislops had made their maid Angie available for the evening to assist Sarah.

"Make sure Jim Benson doesn't accidentally fuck her before dinner," Mila said sarcastically and Sarah laughed at the joke.

Peter and Mila greeted their guests as the two maids ushered them into the house. Mila was complemented on her dress by both husbands and wives and many of the men openly ogled her. The soft kiss on the cheek she usually received when saying good evening was replaced by a shamelessly passionate smooch in most cases, although some men still brushed her cheek with their lips formally. It was already obvious which of the men desired her which were not armored with her being transgender.

Peter too was experiencing unusually long, hot-blooded kisses from most of the wives. Prior to dinner the couples broke up into groups, drinking cocktails, eating canapés and chatting amiably. The Acolytes were far from strangers but there was an unfamiliar but exotic ambience to the evening.

As Peter and Mila had been recently paired and accepted as Apostles of the church there was no need for the reticence and secrecy that had shrouded similar events they had attended. The women glanced at each other both anxiously and expectantly, the men eyed the women appreciatively and with anticipation, the sense of portend in the room was palpable, there were covet yearning glances between some of the men and women.

As was the custom, after the meal the party split into two groups, the men and the women. Mila was asked repeatedly if she was excited about her first sharing. Tonight there was little talk of children, family and church matters; the main subject of conversation was sex. The women compared notes on performances of the men and Mila was sure that the men were doing the same about the women.

Sarah and Angie worked the room bringing drinks and clearing away used glassware and receptacles as they went. They were both wearing their maid's uniforms and looked sexy, they had received their share of appreciative glances but as far as Mila could tell, neither had been asked to provide sexual services.

The maids had prepared all three bedrooms in the house, providing them with fresh linen, lighting scented candles and ensuring there were tissues, towels and the requisites one needed for an evening of heavy sex. The dining room, the study upstairs and Peter's office had the furniture rearranged so that fold-away beds could be bought in and Angie made up the convertible couch-bed in the living room.

Sharing was not one big orgy as Mila thought it might have been. Sarah explained that whilst group sex did occur in Redhaven, at communal dinners it was customary for husbands and wives to pair off to take their pleasure. She also explained that before the sharing began, those who did not wish to participate would be given the opportunity to leave. There was no stigma attached. A couple may just not be in the mood for whatever reason, may be trying to conceive, or the wife may be in her menses; there were any number of reasons.

As the sharing was considered a religious rite, spinsters could not participate as they had no spouse, Sarah and Angie would discreetly withdraw but be available to serve in any way necessary. Sarah had taken some time to instruct Peter on the rite of communal sharing and she made her way over to him and took him by the elbow and guided him to the centre of the room and smiled at him.

"Ok Peter, here you go. I'm sure you will do just fine. Relax and enjoy the evening," she whispered in his ear.

Peter clinked his glass with his spoon repeatedly until he had everyone's attention. The wives came back into the living room and joined their husbands, taking station beside them. Mila joined Peter in the centre of the room as she had been instructed. The air of expectation was palpable.

Peter began a little nervously but became bolder as he got into stride.

"As an ordained Apostle of the Sons of Jehovah I welcome you into my house and offer to you the privilege of our church and encourage you to share in God's bounty. By sharing the gift that is bestowed on man in the form of his wife, we proliferate our devotion to the tenets by spreading our seed."

When Mila read this passage in the tenets whilst Sarah was providing religious instruction Mila had scoffed at it.

"This is just an excuse for married men to fuck other women," she had proclaimed.

Sarah had admonished Mila and reminded her that this was now her life, she must live by the tenets. Adequately chastened, Mila decided right then and there to keep her thoughts about the SOJ tenets to herself.

"Let us give thanks to Jehovah and the blessing of the tenets he has given us to guide us through life," Peter concluded the invocation and the assembled couples, now reduced to seven as three had discreetly departed, mouthed a short prayer.

In Redhaven if a man wished to make love to another man's wife, he would approach him and ask: 'may I share in your bounty', offering his own wife in return. At communal gatherings such as this where the sharing had been agreed to, the wives simply made their way to a bed and awaited the arrival of a mate. It was considered an audacity for a woman to refuse the man as her husband had already agreed to make her available to all of the assembled men.

As it was Peter's house, Sarah had been allotted their bedroom and she made her way up the stairs, her legs shaking, her hands trembling as she clutched the balustrade. Sarah had left a tray with an ice bucket, bottle of gin, a bottle of tonic water and crystal glasses and Mila went straight over to it and poured herself a long one.

The men gathered in the centre of the lounge and discussed who would pair with whom. Sometimes the pairings were pre-arranged during the evening, men taking on women who had drawn their fancy or requesting those women that they had lay with before and had an affinity with. As tonight was Peter's first sharing it was customary for him to choose whomever he wanted to lie with and for all of the men to request to lie with his wife. There were as many women as there were men so no one would miss out and changing of partners multiple times was expected.

Mila stood demurely in the centre of the room, her hands in front of her, waiting to see which of the husbands would come to share her first.

It was Jim Benson and he looked as nervous as she felt. He had no need to be; he was obviously experienced in the sharing. Jim and Peter were good friends and Helen Benson was her friend; they played tennis together and went to each other's houses for coffee. At least if she was to be shared, it was with someone she liked.

He approached Mila and lifted her face so gaze on her beauty.

"You are gorgeous," he whispered.

"I desired you the moment I first saw you Mila. The things I wanted to do to you are so carnal that I dare not tell you," he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

Mila didn't know whether to feel flattered or disgusted, but this was her life now. She had chosen it.

"But... but then... forgive me Mila," Jim began to whimper.

"But then you found out I am transgender," Mila sighed.

"Yes. Don't get me wrong, I still desire you, look the evidence is plain," Jim looked down and Mila followed his gaze and saw the erection in his pants.

"It would be reprehensible of me not to take you, particularly as this is your first communal sharing, and especially as Peter is lying with Helen as we speak."

Mila felt a flash of anger and jealousy but it dissipated. She and Peter had talked long and hard about this moment and had agreed that as they had no choice but to participate they might as well take pleasure from sharing. Their love for each was strong and rolling around with other men and women now and then would not ruin what they had. They had already invited Sarah into their bed hadn't they?

"You don't have to do anything with me Jim; I understand," Mila stroked his arm affectionately.

"Oh don't get me wrong Mila. I'm going to take my pleasure with you. I just want you to know that I won't be using... err... won't require... your bottom half, shall we say," Jim stammered.

"Ok Jim. I get it. Why don't we just see where your desire takes us, just do with me as you would any other wife that you fancy, I just won't expect to have to use my bottom half, so to speak," Mila smiled.

"It's just I don't want to see your..." Jim looked bashful and pointed to her groin.

Mila smiled and nodded and Jim pulled her into his arms.

Jim was a good kisser and Mila responded accordingly, returning his kisses and pressing her body against him. She felt his hard cock press into her belly. She fully expected her gown to be ruined by the end of the night but she didn't care; she was stinking rich and had wardrobes full of them. Mila freed Jim's cock from his pants and he gasped in her mouth as she rubbed it against the sleek satin.

A globule of transparent pre-ejaculate oozed from Jim's glans and was absorbed into the shiny satin fabric, smearing the front of Mila's dress as she stroked the throbbing flesh.

Jim eased the spaghetti-straps of Mila's gown from her shoulders and rucked her dress down around her waist, exposing her firm breasts. He held her at arm's length and gazed at her alabaster flesh.

"Magnificent," he sighed and lowered his face to her bosom.

Mila cradled Jim's head while he suckled at her breasts, nipping and lapping at her nipples alternately until they were like hard pink berries. Mila eased Jim back towards the bed and they lay down, Mila's gown still pulled down to her waist and Jim still fondling her breasts, he was fascinated by them.

They were lying side by side with Jim alternately lapping at Mila's bosom and then rising to kiss her passionately. At least now Mila could get to his cock and she stroked him to full tumescence.

"Do you mind if I come like this? I love your tits Mila," Jim's voice was muffled, his mouth full of Mila's breast.

Mila didn't mind one bit and she smeared Jim's shaft with pre-cum, gripped his cock tight and began to stroke it, starting slow and building up speed as she felt it begin to throb in her hand.

"Oh god yes!" Jim howled.

He crushed Mila's lips with his mouth and drove his tongue into her. His whole body began to shudder and then ropes of scalding semen erupted from his cock and splattered over the front of Mila's dress and across her thighs where the split was open. She felt his cock shudder and pulse in her hand as his tongue danced in her mouth.

When Jim had finished coming it was almost embarrassing as he disentangled himself from her and climbed off the bed to zip up his fly, he hadn't even taken off his pants. Mila lay on the bed with her dress in disarray, the top of her body exposed and her skirt and legs spattered with cooling semen.

"I'm sorry Mila. It will be better next time; it's just that you are so beautiful and those tits... I love those tits," Jim stammered.

Mila lay there bemused, smiling up at Jim who was trying hard not to embarrass himself further. Despite the schoolboy fumbling on the bed Mila had found the experience arousing and was semi-erect and wanted Jim to leave so she could free her penis from where it was tucked uncomfortably between her buttocks.

"Could you be a gentleman and toss me a face washer from the ensuite please Jim?" Mila asked, trying not to giggle as Jim fussed around, unsure what to do next.

He brought a damp face cloth out of the bathroom and handed it Mila who dabbed at the cooling puddles of semen on her dress and thighs. As she predicted her dress was ruined, but who cares, she thought.

There was a soft rapping on the bedroom door and Jim looked relieved.

"Oops... your next appointment, so to speak. Thank you Mila, it was lovely," Jim said nervously but was obviously glad to leaving.

The confident powerful man who helped run a huge drug empire and demanded that the Hislop's aupair Angie present herself to him in their garden was nowhere to be seen.

He came over to the bed and kissed Mila awkwardly and then artlessly stumbled for the door.

Mila was still lying on the bed when Brian Hislop entered the room. He was already naked under a silk robe and Mila was unsure whether he had already shared another man's wife or if she was her first for the evening but he was certainly ready if the bulge in the front of his robe was any indication.

"Hello my delightful young lady," Brian beamed at her as he entered and closed the door behind him.

Brian and Dianne Hislop had been the first friends that Peter and Mila had made in Redhaven, it was they who had shown Peter and Mila around the house they now owned. Brian had always been a little cheeky and flirtatious with Mila but it was harmless, while Dianne was like a cougar around Brian.

"I'm not that young Brian and I don't think I look that delightful lying here with my hair a mess, my makeup ruined and my dress covered in Jim Benson's cum," Mila smiled back at him.

"Well why don't you fix yourself up a little while I fix us both a drink. Lose the dress, keep the heels and get back in here lickety-split," Brian turned his back on her to pour drinks.

Brian was the antithesis of Jim Benson. He knew what he wanted and how he wanted it; it helped that he was incredibly handsome. If Mila had to offer herself to a succession of men to abide by the tenets, then they might as well all be like Brian Hislop.

Mila slipped out of the satin sheath and kicked it in the corner, she fixed her makeup and hair and sprayed perfume and threw on a wispy, transparent baby-doll negligée and came out of the bathroom to find Brian sitting on the bed waiting for her. He was naked and sipping a drink, he had dimmed the lights to give the room an ambiance. He smiled at Mila and offered her a drink as she sat down beside him.

"Do you know how long I have dreamed of getting you into bed?" he smiled at her and raised his glass.

"About the same amount of time that Dianne has dreamed of hopping on my husband?" Mila smiled back at him and sipped.

"Well of course we discuss who we would both like to fuck. Husbands decide who they will ask to share with but it would be a silly spouse who didn't defer to his wife occasionally Mila. You will find out Mila, that yes, we are a patriarchal society but that women still have great influence," Brian explained.

"But to answer your question, I have no doubt that Dianne is outside the next door bedroom waiting for Helen Benson to finish with Peter."

"I take it Jim didn't perform very well?" Brian sniggered.

Mila frowned, was pillow talk allowed between men and women? She knew that the women gossiped.

"No need to answer. You could see the trepidation on his face when he was offered the privilege to go first, he's made no secret of the fact the he finds you very alluring but can't reconcile to himself that you have a penis."

"Well that was obvious," Mila replied.

"I on the other hand am intrigued and it's something I've always wanted to try and I've had the hots for you ever since I met you," Brian took Mila's drink from her and placed it on the bedside table.

He pulled her down onto the bed with him and kissed her. His hands went to her tender breasts as his tongue explored her mouth, Mila sought his phallus and softly caressed it. They kissed passionately and took their time exploring each other, Mila was rock-hard and her cock bulged the front of her pantyhose. When Brian snaked a hand down there and squeezed, she groaned into his mouth.

Brian stroked and fondled Mila's cock through the gossamer fabric of her pantyhose and she stroked his long thick cock, they moaned into each other's mouths as their passions ignited.

Mila wheeled on the bed to that her face was over Brian's groin, her legs straddling his face. Brian looked up Mila's firm thighs and saw her engorged member sheathed in the gusset of her hose. Mila lowered her mouth to Brian's massive organ and look him in her mouth.

Brian sighed as he felt Mila's tongue working on his glans and her lips suckling his shaft. He had recently fucked one of the other wives and Mila could taste the remnants of her cunt juices on Brian's cock. The Cialis he had taken before coming to dinner was doing its job and his cock remained bloated.

Brian lapped at Mila's cock through her pantyhose and elicited a moan from her and a dribble of dewy pre-cum from her cock. He wanted to fully experience his fist time with this beautiful transgender woman and he yanked down the waistband of her hose and took her hard flesh into his mouth.

Mila and Brian sucked and slathered on each other's hard cocks, using lips, tongue and teeth to great effect. Mila lapped at Brian's scrotum and suckled his testes. It felt so good that Brian reciprocated. The couple sucked each other until they were both close to extremis and they mutually agreed that they had better stop.

Brian lay on top of Mila and kissed her and she returned his kisses. He broke the kiss and gazed at her beautiful face.

"You are wonderful," he smiled down at her.

Mila responded by locking her silken thighs around his his torso and rising to kiss him. Their cocks rubbed together, the fabric of Mila's nylons increasing the pleasure as they frotted, kissed, and fondled.

Mila arched her back and lifted her legs high and reached between them and positioned the head of Brian's big cock at her sphincter. Using a fingernail she opened a slit in the gusset of her nylons and Brian's cock nestled in the puckered bud. Mila was prepared and had lubricated her sphincter and inserted gel-caps inside her anus.

Brian pushed and Mila rose to meet him and his hard cock slid inside her all the way. Brian rested when he had Mila fully impaled and he looked down lovingly at her.

"Nice?" she smiled up at him.

"Lovely," he replied.

Mila put her arms around his neck and pulled his face to hers so she could kiss him, she wriggled her buttocks encouraging Brian to fuck her while she clung to him. Brian could feel her cock pressing against his belly and it felt good; it felt right. As he began to fuck Mila he made sure his hard belly rubbed against her penis.

They began to rut, fucking each other hard and fast, kissing, scratching, caressing, mouthing tender ripostes and outrageous obscenities as their passion built.

Mila could feel her anus stretched to capacity by Brian's huge cock and Brian felt Mila's velvety channel enveloping his throbbing cock, clinging to his sensitive flesh. Mila felt full in wonderful way and waves of deep bliss emanated from her back passage and tingling scintillas of delight radiated from her tender glans.

"Can I come?" Brian broke the kiss long enough to gasp.

Mila tightened the grip of her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and nodded. She was close too.

Brian lowered his face and kissed her as he ground his cock deep inside her and ejaculated. He felt the scalding stream of Mila's spawn spatter on his belly as she came and felt her anus contract and palpitate around his convulsing cock.

They clung to each other, sharing their bliss and contentment as they climaxed together.

Brian collapsed on top of Mila when he was spent and she lowered her legs from his torso and unclasped her arms from around his neck. They both lay there gasping until Brian had the energy to climb off her.

"Well that was wonderful," Brian lay beside her, lazily circling a fingertip around her belly button.

"Yes it was," Mila smiled up at him.

He handed her the remains of her drink and picked up his own and they both swallowed the liquor.

"Can I get you another before your next partner arrives?" Brian asked arising from the bed and slipping into his robe.

Mila took the damp towel from the bedside table and used it to tend to the practicalities, tossing it to Brian when she had finished. He dabbed at Mila's come drying on his belly.

"Next partner? How many am I going to service?" Mila asked.

"I'd say most of the men have gone twice by now so they will need time to recover. Cialis works wonders but not miracles," he explained pouring them both a fresh gin and tonic.

"So we have time for a drink and a smoke?" Mila asked, getting up and adjusting her negligée.

"You have smokes? Fuck, yes please. Don't tell Dianne though," Brian beamed at her.

"Marlboro menthols in the draw there with the smokeless ashtray, let's go out on the balcony," Mila said.

Brian put his arm around Mila affectionately and turned her face to his as they walked through the sheer curtains onto the balcony.

"Are you ok?" genuine concern in his voice.

"I guess so. I'm sure I'll get the hang of sharing, I just hope all the men are like you," Mila kissed his cheek.

"That's the beauty of sharing. After tonight you and Peter only have to share with couples you know will make you happy," Brian lit her cigarette and then his own.

They stood side by side on the balcony, leaning on the balustrade, smoking and enjoying each other's company.

Mila serviced two other men that night and was aching and sore but contented when she and Peter said good night to the last of their guests and went to bed.

They lay blissfully in each other's arms and fell asleep immediately.

*****

Another British pejorative that Mila liked was bollocks and it was what both she and Peter both thought of the religious beliefs that pillared the tenets of the Sons of Jehovah. They were so obviously concocted to justify a lifestyle of excesses, debauchery and misogyny. They attended the mandatory Sunday observance and suffered through the services and the picnic lunches but it was a small price to pay for the lifestyle they had come to enjoy.

The couple soon came to realise that adherence to the core religious teachings, cobbled together from select passages of other Christian faiths and skewed to support the SOJ belief system, varied significantly. Some, especially the lower Order Acolytes were zealots, and some, especially the elite Apostles, paid scant regard to religious worship but revelled in the bounty that the church bestowed on them. Peter and Mila fitted firmly into the latter tranche.

Peter and Mila had found a select few husbands and wives who they both liked enough to share with on a regular basis but they were still deeply in love and their marriage was sound. They enjoyed their holiday breaks from Redhaven and travelled extensively, lying on the beach in the Cayman Islands checking up on their bloated bank accounts, skiing in New Zealand and Japan, one Christmas they rented an English manor house and took Sarah with them.

Life was easy and time passed slowly, although Peter did spend a lot of time away conducting business for the church. Mila's circle of friends was confined to a select group; mainly wives of other Apostles. She had spent many an hour explaining to them how she had transformed from Miles to Mila but provided an edited version. Except for a very small circle, they believed that Mila had become Peter's wife through conventional means; they knew nothing of her being a surrogate for her sister.

Her friends were intrigued by how she had taken a man's body and with the assistance of hormones, a little surgery and hours of painstaking practice she had become the woman she was today. Of course the question of her genitalia came up and one afternoon after sipping far too many sangrias by the pool Mila had simply dropped her bikini bottoms and showed them.

Mila and Sarah became very close friends and part-time lovers. Mila had forgiven Sarah her transgressions. Understanding how the tenets were ingrained into the Sons of Jehovah, Mila understood that Sarah had no choice but to obey the Reverend when he had ordered her to spy on them. Being part of the select few who knew the real purpose of the ranch was also a special bond. Sarah usually shared Mila's bed while Peter was away but Sarah lived in hope that one day she would be married to a member of the Order but didn't hold out much faith it would happen. Widowers were a scarce commodity in Redhaven and they had their pick of spinsters whom they could marry.

"Remember when you first came to Redhaven and I explained to you how couples Paired during their time at high school?" Sarah explained to Mila one day.

"I told you that a girl must be pure to be Paired but I didn't fully answer your question as to why I wasn't."

Mila nodded.

"I was defiled before I could be Paired," Sarah said softly.

"I was nineteen years old and sweet on a Patriarch boy who was sweet on me and I hoped he would Pair with me but I had also come to the attention of the son of an Apostle. Being the daughter of an Acolyte I was prepared to become the wife of the Apostle even though I didn't really like him, just so that I could rise up the social Order."

"What I didn't know was that the Pairing had not been approved by the Council of the Apostles but the boy didn't tell me that. He told me that we were to be married but to keep it a secret until our Pairing was announced at the Sunday service."

"The boy convinced me that as we were soon to be married there was no reason to wait for our wedding night. As you now know, it is a colossal sin for a woman to break the tenets by not saving her virtue for her wedding day," Sarah sighed.

"He deceived you, bedded you and you were disgraced and became a spinster," Mila concluded Sarah's story for her.

"Yes. I was lucky that Reverend Hayes took pity on me and found me a good job working for the Hislops as their housemaid," Sarah smiled vainly.

"Of course he demanded his right to use you when it suited him," Mila said solemnly.

"Don't say it that way, it is written in the tenets. When word got around that Reverend Hayes was using me almost exclusively, I was no longer asked to lie with other men."

"So when he took the almost inconceivable step of bringing Peter Randal to Redhaven to live amongst us, I was the obvious choice to be your maid," Sarah explained.

"And to be his spy," Mila smiled.

"Have things not worked out for the better?" Sarah asked, taking Mila's hand in hers.

"I guess they have," Mila softly squeezed Sarah's hand.

"And the Reverend is still sweet on you?" Mila asked.

"Yes, but his interest is waning. There are younger prettier girls out there," Sarah said simply.

"And the boy?" Mila asked.

"He was excommunicated but given the option to work at the ranch because of who his father was. He works on the legitimate side of the business farming cattle," Sarah replied.

"But when you are required to render service up at the ranch you must run into each other?" Mila asked, a little alarmed.

"Yes and I deliberately let him take me. I can see the destitution in his eyes while he fucks me, thinking of the life that he could have had, had he not been so deceitful."

"So the moral of the story is: 'don't fuck with Sarah Jennings'," Mila squeezed Sarah's hand affectionately.

*****

When Mila opened the door that fateful morning she didn't know who was more shocked; her or her sister.

"Hello sis'," Mila's sister grinned and barged past Mila into the hallway.

Mila caught a glimpse of a beaten up VW beetle parked in the driveway before she slammed the door closed. The car was incongruous in a place like Redhaven, like an angry pimple on a pretty face.

Her sister looked around the spacious extravagance of the Randal household, walking slowly through the house, touching things, lifting and studying expensive knick-knacks and running her finger across polished surfaces while Mila stood in stunned silence.

"I'd heard you and Peter had made it good, but shit Miles, this is the fucking bomb," Mila's sister's upper-class, Mid-Atlantic accent had transformed into a blend of American street with a slight Australian strine over the years.

"And look at you brother of mine! You look more like me than me, but I'm reliably informed that you don't have a cunt," she smiled evilly.

"You certainly dress nice, although no one wears nylons anymore unless they're going to a wedding or a funeral."

Mila was dressed in a Saint Laurent skirt and blazer and Jimmy Choo heels and expensive pantyhose. Her whole outfit cost just south of eight thousand dollars. Her sister was dressed in a denim miniskirt, blue and white horizontal striped long-sleeve blouse, cork wedge sandals and her dirty-blonde hair was piled high on her head. She still affected dramatic eye makeup but she wore pink lip-gloss and her junk-jewellery was cheap and vulgar. The whole ensemble would have cost less than fifty dollars at K-Mart.

The five years that they had been apart had seen dramatic changes in both of their fortunes.

Her time in Australia had aged Mila's sister, she looked like she hadn't lived well and her tanned skin was ravaged by the sun.

"Come. Let me look at you," her sister took Mila by the hands led her into the lounge.

Mila was still astonished and unable to speak; her sister led her around like a dummy.

"I knew you had a thing for lingerie and nylons Miles, and you really liked dressing in my clothes and passing yourself off as me, but I never thought that you'd be a gender-bender," there was sarcasm and contempt in her words.

"Do you really like taking it up the ass? I find it quite uncomfortable on the rare cases I allow it," she whispered in Mila's ear.

"So... I go on a little overseas holiday and my brother steals my identity. My new name is Rachael Bunning by the way. It was really difficult getting false identity documents; but you wouldn't know about that. Of course yours are all legitimate, but it's as if I don't actually exist. Well I guess I don't really, because you are me and I'm Rachael."

"Are you going to say something, you life-stealing cunt!" Rachael's voice boomed through the empty house, her face screwed up with hostility and loathing.

The sudden explosion of anger bought Mila out of her reverie.

"This could all have been yours Mil... Rachael, but you traded in the opportunity for a yoga instructor and a life-long holiday in the antipodes," Mila snapped at her sister.

"I'm sorry, I still can't get used to looking at you. I keep seeing myself or at least what I should look like. But you're really just some kind of man-woman masquerading as me. I don't know how Peter can stand you!" Rachael fired back.

"Peter and I love each other. You drove a wedge deep into your marriage and broke it apart. Peter was no saint either but he changed, just as I did," Mila retorted.

"Hah! You can keep him. Him and his secrets and his coke and his sluts!" Rachael hissed.

"That's not him anymore. He's a good man," Mila replied.

"What do you want Rachael? You can't have this life because I'm living it. I am Mila Randal," Mila said firmly.

"You stole my identity, you stole my husband, you stole my life. But that's ok. I don't want it," Rachael walked over to the wet bar and poured herself a drink without asking.

"I thought you had made a life for yourself in Australia with Jeff the yoga guru?" Mila made her way to the bar and poured her own drink.

The sisters had finished venting and their anger had cooled. They were no longer shouting at each other.

"I heard that you split up with your boyfriend but I was told you were backpacking around the country," Mila sipped her gin and tonic, letting the alcohol soothe her.

"Well that's just it isn't it? When I left Peter he was broke and there were some really bad people out to get him and he was hoping that living with these Mormons, or whatever the fuck they are, for two or three or years would set him up," Rachael said and Mila declined to correct her about the religious order she belonged to.

"I got my revenge on him. I didn't think Peter would still be alive. But it turns out that Jeff's promises of living in a mansion in Vaucluse were full of shit. We lived in nice enough places until my money ran out. Do you know how much money a yoga teacher makes?" Rachael circled a finger indicating zero.

"After I dumped Jeff I did what I could to survive. There are thousands of illegals who skip their visas and are living in Australia undocumented and when you have this you can make a decent living," Rachael indicated her face and figure.

"But it's not what I wanted. Do you know what my last job was? I was a fucking barmaid in a pub! I was living in a backpacker hostel in Cairns surrounded by oversexed, over exuberant adolescents, for fuck sake!"

"Come on honey, you know that's not me."

"I tried to come home, only to find that my brother was now a woman and had stolen my identity. A mutual friend told me all about you. Seems he had a thing for me but made do with fucking a look-alike with a penis," Rachael snorted into her scotch.

"Steven Boutros," Mila whispered as the penny dropped.

"Steven Boutros, exactly. You and Peter pay him hush money, but I proposed a better deal and he took it and helped me get my identity documents. I did exactly what you did. I stole some else's identity," Rachael poured more liquor into her glass.

"So you can keep your shitty life with my husband and your shitty church friends, trapped here in Stepford. I'll make it easy for you," Rachael's eyes glimmered with hatred.

"So it's all about the money," Mila countered.

"Yep. I've no idea how much the two of you are worth, but I know it's a lot. You can keep Peter's money; all you have to do is transfer everything you have in your name into my bank accounts. Steven and I will split it and go gently into that good night as they say," Rachael slammed her glass down on the counter to emphasise her point.

"But you won't though. Your type never do. You always come back for more," Sarah appeared through the dining room entry dressed in her maid's uniform.

She had a pistol in her hand levelled at Rachael.

"Oh my fucking god you have a French maid! How decadent," Rachael scoffed.

The pistol was fitted with a silencer and when Sarah fired a round between Rachael's feet the report was muffled.

Rachael paled. She realised the predicament she was in. This was not how things were supposed to pan out. She was supposed to have the upper hand.

"The way I see it, if Rachael Bunning was to disappear, no one would notice. Just like no one went looking for Miles Frances," Sarah had a smirk on her face.

"Hey wait a minute," Rachael backed up to the breakfast bar.

"As for Steven Boutros. We know all about him and we have friends who can take care of him and make it look like it was an accident. That was always our intention but Mila had a soft spot for him so we allowed him to take his trickle of cash and keep schtum," Sarah elaborated.

She glanced at Mila who took a sip of her drink and shrugged her shoulders.

"But I'm your sister Mila! You wouldn't let these crazy people do anything to me!" Rachael's tone had changed from demanding to pleading.

Sarah put another shot just to the right of Rachael's hip which splintered the woodwork.

Rachael fell to her knees.

"I'm sorry! This was stupid! It was all Steven's idea! I'll go away and never come back!" Rachael begged though sobbing jags.

"That's an idea. Your sister could disappear and never come back; what do you think Mila?" Sarah's voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"No! Not like that! Don't kill me. I promise I won't say anything," Rachael pleaded.

"I think Peter should have a say," Mila said coldly.

"Yes I think you're right Mila. I'll call Officer Friendly and have that piece of shit car in the driveway towed away and disposed of and your sister taken out to the ranch. We have a place there where we can house people securely, you've seen it," Sarah said to Mila, cutting Rachael out of the conversation.

"Yes! Yes! Do that! Keep me somewhere safe until I can talk to Peter. Don't let the crazy maid shoot me!" Rachael implored her sister.

Sarah fired another warning shot, silencing Rachael.

"Do you think I'm a crazy maid Mila?" Sarah smiled at Mila.

Mila walked over to Sarah and kissed her quickly on the lips.

"Of course not darling," Mila turned and grinned at her sister.

*****

Mila and Peter approached the gates to the ranch; Mila was driving her new Bugatti. The guards waved them through and they drove up to the cluster of main buildings and parked next to the Chuck Wagon.

They walked over towards bunkhouses holding hands and veered towards a smaller one-story town-house comprising four ground-level apartments.

Rachael Bunning was sitting outside her apartment in her well-tended garden smoking a cigarette and drinking bourbon. She was dressed in hotpants, a tight satin blouse, sheer tan pantyhose and high heels. Her makeup was heavy but perfect; her once blonde hair was dyed jet black and cut into a severe bob.

The Council of the Apostles had kept Mila's sister locked up at the ranch for three weeks while they decided what to do with her. Most wanted her to just disappear, it was the safest option. Peter and Mila pleaded her case.

Rachael Bunning was a cunning, conniving bitch and when it came to fighting for her life she was willing to do anything. During those three weeks, Mila had visited Rachael and she had told her a little about the Sons of Jehovah and Rachael had latched onto the weekly conjugal visits performed by the spinsters.

"What if instead of bussing in a posse of hookers every Sunday there was a permanent presence out here? You know, a few of these spinsters rotate through here every week. I could... you know head them up, be the Madame, whatever the fuck you call it," Rachael had proposed to Mila.

"You know you could never leave. We will never trust you. This would be your life," Mila mused.

"Well given the alternative I think I can live with that, if you know, you make sure I'm comfortable," Rachael grinned.

And so Rachael Bunning lived comfortably out at the ranch, blissfully unaware of the tons of marijuana and methamphetamine being manufactured only a few hundred yards away from where she and three spinsters lived in their opulent apartments, wanting for nothing, but having to service the sexual needs of the ranch staff.

As Rachael herself had said, given the alternative, it wasn't a bad life.

Steven Boutros had disappeared and the investigation into his disappearance soon became a cold case. A neighbor claimed to have seen Steven getting into a car with two Latino gentlemen but had rescinded his statement soon after.

Peter opened the gate that led into to Rachael's well-tended little garden and stood aside so that Mila could enter first.

Rachael looked up at them both and smiled.

"Hey sis'; sucked any good cocks lately?" Mila grinned.

"I could ask you the same thing," Rachael returned the grin and hugged her sister.

The End

Author's note: I hope you enjoyed my story; tell me what you think. I had received several pleas for Mila's sister to reappear so I introduced the last few paragraphs to 'put a bow on it', so to speak. Maybe we will visit Mila again later but let's let her enjoy Redhaven for a little longer.

Michele Nylons, author and transvestite playgirl