Bathsheba Ch.3
“That’s weird,” Maya said during breakfast.
“What is?” Steven asked, biting his toast.
“Marisa wants us to meet at her country house. She invited the whole workshop group.”
“Is it far?” Steven asked.
“Yeah. She wants us to stay overnight. And keep working in the morning. I don’t know...”
“Go, I’ll be fine. I can have some quality father-daughter time.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. You want me to drive you?”
“No, the girls already said they’d take me.”
“But they just found out.”
“I know, but the girls are enthusiastic...”
The “Maya and her Musketeers” group chat wouldn’t stop buzzing. They were all begging to take her. Ana had been the first to offer, followed by Emma, Tasha, and Leslie. The group photo had been updated the night before: Ana had changed it to Maya’s profile picture.
“If you say so,” Steven laughed, standing up. “I’m off. Love you.”
“Me too,” Maya murmured, not quite meeting his eyes.
When the door closed, Maya grabbed her phone. Ana had already sent her three messages since breakfast started.
Ana: You decided who you’re going with yet?
Ana: Because I have the best car.
Ana: And the best music too.
Maya smiled. She typed quickly:
Maya: You win. Pick me up at 10.
Ana’s reply was immediate: a photo of herself smiling, thumb up, and a heart sticker.
The drive took almost two hours. They talked about everything and nothing. Ana told her about her father, about the restaurant, about her marriage that she said was starting to cool off.
When they arrived, Maya was speechless.
The country house was huge, made of stone and wood, with a garden so big it looked like a park. There were flowers of every color, a gravel path leading to a private forest, and in the distance, a pond and a fountain in the center. Farther away, a pool glittered under the sun.
“It’s beautiful,” Maya said, getting out of the car.
“Marisa’s rich,” Ana said with a shrug. “Not that surprising.”
The other girls arrived shortly after. They all gathered at the entrance, commenting on the garden, the facade, how lucky Marisa was.
“Where is she?” Emma asked.
“She said she’d meet us in the garden,” Leslie answered.
They walked for several minutes. Maya always with her arms linked with two of the girls. They switched every so often.
In the distance, they started to see a silhouette. It wasn’t feminine.
Maya stopped dead when she recognized the silhouette. Her heart skipped. It wasn’t Marisa. It was Raul.
And he was already looking at her.
“What’s wrong?” Ana asked, stopping beside her.
“Nothing,” Maya answered, too quickly. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Yes you do,” Ana said, quietly. “Go to him.”
“What?” Maya asked, feeling her cheeks get hot.
“Go,” Ana repeated. “He won’t bite. Unless you want him to...”
Maya laughed nervously. She took a step forward, but her feet didn’t seem to want to move. She turned to look at the girls. Emma waved her hand, like saying “go ahead.” Tasha nodded, biting her lip to keep from laughing. Leslie put her hands over her heart.
“Go, Maya,” Ana repeated, with a mischievous smile.
Maya turned around and took another step. Then another. And stopped again. She looked back. The girls were still there.
“It’s just Raul ,” Emma said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Not a bear.”
“Shut up,” Maya said, laughing.
“Don’t be shy,” Tasha said.
Maya blushed even more. She took another step. Then another. Every time she looked back, the girls made gestures with their hands, encouraging her to keep going. Like a chorus of teenagers watching their friend approach the guy she likes.
Raul , meanwhile, was still there, waiting.
When she finally stood in front of him, the words got stuck in her throat.
“Hi,” she said, quietly.
“Hi,” he answered, and his smile grew a little wider. “Lost?”
“Yeah, I’m bad with directions,” Maya said.
“Allow me to help,” Raul said, offering his arm.
She understood and they linked arms. Maya felt the warmth of his body and couldn’t help letting out a sigh.
They walked back. Toward the girls.
When they got close, Ana was the first to speak.
“Well, well,” she said, crossing her arms. “Look who came back with a plus-one.”
“Shut up,” Maya said, pressing her body closer to Raul’s.
“What about the class?” Emma asked, with a sly smile. “Isn’t Marisa coming?”
“Later,” Raul said, casually. “She asked me to start.”
“How generous,” Tasha murmured, and the others laughed.
Maya felt the heat rise to her cheeks.
Leslie stepped forward and, in a voice that tried to sound serious, said:
“Since when do you know theater?”
“I don’t know but I think I can improvise: Little bunnies love sticking eggs up their asses,” he exclaimed.
All the girls dropped to the ground except for Maya, who Raul caught before she could fall. They looked asleep or in a coma. Maya drooled a little.
Raul gently placed Maya on the ground next to her entourage and after two minutes, he clapped.
They woke up without understanding what they were doing on the ground. But none of them seemed interested in finding out.
“Alright girls, I think today we’ll improvise again,” Raul announced. “I think today will be Tristan and Isolde. Of course, I think we already know who will play Isolde.”
All the women turned to look at Maya.
“No,” Maya shook her head. “I’m not that good of an actress.”
“Of course you are,” the women said, still dazed.
“Besides, you have to do it. The role of Isolde is connected to the one of Bathsheba. You know why?”
She shook her head.
“Is anyone here a believer?”
Everyone raised their hands, including Maya, who had always believed in God. If at that moment someone had asked her why, she couldn’t have said anything coherent, but she still knew she believed.
“Me too,” Raul continued. “And I think in general I agree with Christian doctrine, but it’s missing a mystical element that’s obvious. You know which one?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“Reincarnation. Isn’t it obvious that the soul, being immortal, returns to Earth from time to time to take another body?”
“Very obvious,” Emma commented.
“Of course,” Tasha said, nodding with a conviction that seemed to come from the deepest part of her being.
“What do you think, Maya?” Raul asked her directly. “Isn’t it obvious that reincarnation exists?”
“Yes, of course,” Maya answered, lightly hitting her own head. How had she not realized it.
“Good, so agreed, I don’t think it’s far-fetched to say that Bathsheba was reincarnated as Princess Isolde,” Raul said. “After all, Isolde looked like her twin: tall, pale, blue eyes, and of course enormous tits. You know what else they had in common?” he said, addressing only Maya.
“No,” she answered.
Raul took a moment before speaking.
“They were unhappily married. Not just because their husbands were cruel and useless. But because deep down, both knew they belonged to someone else.”
Maya blushed.
“Now Maya, I want you to close your eyes.”
Maya obeyed.
“ Maya, in this moment you stop being you.”
“Stop being me,” Maya repeated.
“You are Isolde. Who is none other than Bathsheba two thousand years later. Do you still Bathsheba?”
“Yes...” Maya answered.
“Do you what was most important to her?”
“David,” she said with total conviction.
“Exactly. Do you what he looked like?”
“Like you...” Maya whispered nervously.
“Exactly. Now it’s obvious that David’s soul also had to reincarnate, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Into who do you think?”
Maya thought for a moment.
“Tristan?”
“You’re so smart,” Raul said. “Now I’ll narrate the scene for everyone.”
“Don’t go so fast, my lady,” Emma begged.
But Isolde didn’t slow down. She loved feeling the breeze on her naked body.
The damp dirt path sank slightly under her bare feet, and the sunlight filtered through the leaves, drawing golden spots on her skin.
She breathed deeply. This was her only moment of freedom, her only real breath in the midst of confinement. Her evil husband, King Stevenson, had locked her in the castle and its surroundings.
“My lady, be careful, we don’t want you to fall,” Tasha said when she finally caught up with her.
The other nymphs soon arrived. They always followed her everywhere. They were naked like her, though they weren’t human. They had been born from her most intimate moments: Emma, from her first laugh; Ana, from her first tear; Tasha, from her first kiss; and Leslie, from her first orgasm.
“Where are we going?” Ana asked. Her favorite nymph.
“I don’t know,” Isolde answered, turning her back to them. “I feel like I need to get to a place but I’m not sure where it is. I feel it in my heart.”
“My lady, I found a sign,” Leslie told her.
It was an arrow painted on a tree.
“It’s a sign from the forest spirits,” Isolde said. The others nodded as if it were obvious.
Ana touched the arrow with her fingertips. The paint was still wet. But her mind didn’t what was happening, instead she concluded that the spirit must still be in the tree.
The arrows stretched for half a kilometer. Until they reached a clearing.
There, behind the last tree, Isolde hid.
“What’s wrong, my lady?” Tasha asked.
She made a gesture for her to be quiet.
“There’s a knight,” she whispered.
“What does he look like?” Emma asked.
“He’s very handsome. He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen,” Isolde answered.
“Who’s there?” the knight said.
Isolde let out a moan. There was something about the knight’s voice that was unmistakable. It made her heart beat faster and her breath quicken.
“Who’s there?” the knight asked again.
Isolde couldn’t answer. She was too nervous.
“Your queen,” Ana answered.
“Then come out,” the knight said.
Isolde hesitated. She felt that destiny had finally caught up with her. That destiny that had led her throughout her life to this precise moment. How was she supposed not to be afraid?
Ana took her arm. Emma took the other. Tasha and Leslie not far behind.
And so they all came out.
Seeing them there, naked in the garden, bathed in light, without any shame, reminded one of the nymphs in neoclassical paintings exhibited in museums.
Especially Maya with her pale skin, her generous curves and her prominent breasts.
Isolde fixed her eyes on the knight and he on her. They seemed to recognize each other from another life.
“I know you...” Isolde whispered.
“My name is Tristan,” the knight answered, approaching her.
“And I am Isolde,” she said, reaching out her hand. She was trembling.
Tristan pulled her so they were inches apart.
“Is that how you always dress?” the knight asked, laughing.
“Whenever I can. Don’t you like it?” Isolde answered.
Tristan took her by the waist with one hand. She felt him bend her backward, as if gravity was pushing her. Isolde’s leg lifted with the impulse, and her body arched.
And then he kissed her. It was the most romantic kiss of her life. Of her lives. Past and future.
“I love it. Never wear anything else,” Tristan answered.
“I never will,” Isolde promised, caressing his cheek.
Tristan’s hand on her back guided her to the ground. Isolde let herself fall, feeling the fresh grass against her skin.
She knew what was coming. Tristan was already over her, kissing her neck with deliberate slowness. She stroked his hair.
The nymphs moved toward them. Forming a circle around the lovers. Contemplating their lady enjoying the knight’s attentions.
He went down, slowly, until he reached her breasts. He took them with his hands, kissed them, played with them. Each one as big as a watermelon.
When the knight’s mouth found her nipple, Isolde felt the air escape her. He took it carefully, with devotion, as if it were something sacred. And he began to suck.
At first it was soft. Then deeper. Isolde felt a pull in her chest, a heat that spread from the center of her body to her skin. She bit her lips. Her fingers tangled in Tristan’s hair, gripping it.
And then it happened.
A wet, warm sensation. A trickle. Isolde opened her eyes, confused, and looking down she saw a white thread sliding down her skin. It was milk. Her body loved Tristan so much that it had produced milk. It was magic.
At least it was for Isolde. If Maya had been conscious, it would have been anything but magical. Just two months earlier, she had weaned Bree.
Isolde felt her knight’s pants slip down. She felt the hardness and the enormous size against her leg.
Tristan stopped just as he reached her crotch. He looked at her fixedly, waiting for her permission. After all, he was a knight.
“Yes,” she whispered in his ear.
Isolde felt the pressure first. A firm push that opened her slowly. Then the pain. A sharp, stabbing pain that spread from the center of her body to every limb.
Her body tensed. Her nails dug into his back, looking for something to hold on to as the pain intensified.
“Too big,” she managed to say between gasps.
A spasm ran through her legs. Another. Her back arched, not from pleasure, but from pure physical reaction. With what little strength she had left, she pushed him away with her hands.
The knight didn’t protest. He pulled back. On his face was only disappointment.
Isolde looked at him. She saw his eyes. She saw the disappointment. And she knew she couldn’t fail him.
“Take my limbs,” she ordered her nymphs. “Don’t let go even if I cry, scream or beg.”
The nymphs moved instantly. Ana took her right arm. Emma the left. Tasha and Leslie knelt at her feet, holding her ankles firmly. They weren’t hurting her. Just holding her.
Isolde took a deep breath. She looked at Tristan. Nodded.
He tried again.
The pain returned, more intense than before. Isolde felt her skin stretching, her muscles tightening to the limit. She opened her mouth to scream, but the nymphs were already there. Ana whispered something in her ear, words she couldn’t distinguish. Emma stroked her arm. Tasha and Leslie tightened their grip on her ankles, as if to remind her she wasn’t alone.
Isolde clenched her teeth. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t ask them to stop. She couldn’t. She had made a promise.
The knight caressed her cheek. She had ed his test. She had proven her loyalty.
“And then, as the queen cried and suffered,” Raul began to say. “She realized that this was the only sex she actually liked: the one that hurt. The one that tortured her. Nothing before that was real sex. Nothing after it would be. Her pleasure would never return without a dose of pain.”
When he finished saying those words, and although Isolde didn’t consciously hear them, she felt the pain change.
It didn’t disappear. It didn’t become less intense. But something shifted inside her.
She opened her eyes. She wasn’t crying anymore. She was still trembling.
“Break me,” she whispered. “Break me please,” she meant it. She truly wanted it.
A painful spasm ran through her body, but instead of pulling away, she tightened her legs around him. She didn’t want him to leave. She wanted him to keep going.
The knight seemed to read her thoughts, because he began to increase the speed of his thrusts.
“You’re killing me!” Isolde screamed. “You’re killing me!” she said again, more intensely, spitting out an excessive amount of saliva. She wanted to die if it meant prolonging that sensation.
“Don’t you think it’s obvious that God exists?” Isolde asked, her tongue still dragging from exhaustion.
They were in the bed of the master bedroom. It was night. He was holding her, with a bathrobe loosely tied over his shoulders; she was still naked, lying against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her ear.
“Why do you say that?” he asked, his hand lost in her hair.
“Because if it wasn’t him,” Isolde said, lifting her head to caress his cheek, “who else could have sent you to rescue me?”
Isolde slipped her hand inside his robe, began to caress his crotch. From the size she perceived, she felt like she was stroking a python.
Tristan let out a soft laugh.
“I don’t exactly see your cell.”
Isolde sighed. The gesture came from deep in her chest, as if she’d been holding that air in for years.
“That’s because you’ve always been free. But this is the first day of my life that I feel like a real person. Before you, my days were cold and monotonous. You are my sun,” she began to quicken the pace of her stroking.
“And what about your husband?” Tristan asked, his voice strained.
“He’s evil,” she said, speeding up even more.
“Evil,” Ana repeated from her side. She was hugging Isolde, keeping her warm, her cheek resting on her shoulder.
“Evil,” Emma and Leslie echoed in unison from the foot of the bed.
Tasha, from the floor, also said it. But no one heard her.
“Wait,” Tristan said, moving her hand away.
“You don’t like it?” Isolde asked.
“Of course I do. But I don’t know if you’d mind, but I’d like to try something new,” he began to move his hand toward her back, lowering it further and further until he reached her anus. He gently inserted one of his fingers.
Isolde laughed.
“Will it hurt a lot?” she asked.
“Not if I do it slowly.”
“Then do it fast, please.”
As soon as she said it, she knelt on the bed, resting her head on the sheets and her ass in the air.
“Open me for him,” she ordered her nymphs.
Ana and Emma took one buttock each, spreading them as far apart as they could. They didn’t care if it hurt Isolde. They were actually looking for it.
Tasha and Leslie positioned themselves beside her face.
Tasha began to pull her hair hard, many strands were torn out.
Leslie pressed her head against the bed, making it hard for her to breathe. She let go every few seconds so she could take a gulp of air, then pushed her head down again. They also covered her eyes. So she couldn’t predict the moment when her knight would penetrate her.
And of course, there was no warning from her knight. When he put it in, he put it all the way in one go.
Her whole body spasmed, but her nymphs returned her to her original position.
Her eyes went white for an instant.
“Does it hurt?” Leslie asked.
“A lot,” Isolde answered.
“You want it to stop?”
“I want him to do it faster,” she murmured. “More!” she screamed.
Leslie pressed her head against the bed again.
Ana and Emma began to spank her harder and harder. But none of it worked. Isolde kept asking for more.
Raul had woken up very late. At least noon. Beside him, the bed was empty. He didn’t see Maya or any of her handmaidens.
Had the whole night before been a dream? A wonderful, crazy dream.
No. It couldn’t be. He was still in Marisa’s house, still wearing her ex-husband’s bathrobe, and he was sleeping in the biggest room in the mansion. Maybe Maya or one of the girls had woken up despite all his precautions. Maybe that woman—it didn’t matter which one at that moment—woke up the rest. And they all fled to the nearest police station. Right now the cops were probably already on their way. Why hadn’t he brought them back to normal in the afternoon? Or at night? Why hadn’t he followed his plan?
His worst scenarios started spinning in his head like knives as he walked, naked, down the hallway.
A sudden warm breeze surprised him. The enormous sliding doors of the living room were completely open. The midday light blinded him for a moment, making him squint.
And there they were.
The five women, playing in the garden, naked.
Maya spotted him quickly. She waved from a distance, then ran toward him. Her tits bounced like two soccer balls. Her nymphs followed behind her.
“Tristan, my love, you’re awake. Do you want breakfast?” she said and gave him a kiss. “Or maybe before that you’d like to experiment again,” she said, biting her lip and turning 180 degrees. Her buttocks had several bruises. Her nymphs spread her cheeks and laughed. Her life was wonderful.
She felt a sudden breeze, it was night. She blinked. She was outside Marisa’s mansion.
Marisa was at the entrance saying goodbye to them.
“Thanks for visiting,” she said and shortly after slammed the door shut.
The girls looked at each other. They seemed equally bewildered but none of them mentioned it.
They started walking toward their cars.
Her phone vibrated.
She had seventy-two missed calls.
Seventy-two.
Forty text messages. Twenty voice messages.
All from Steven.
The first messages were from the morning—the previous morning. They started out normal:
“How’s class going?” and a heart.
An hour later:
“You guys get there okay?”
Three hours later:
“Love?”
Five hours later is when they start getting more anxious.
“Maya, you okay? Answer.”
Then the constant calls.
Of course the messages didn’t stop:
“It’s 9pm and you’re not answering. I’m getting worried.”
“Please, just tell me you’re okay.”
The last ones were shorter. Almost desperate:
“Answer.”
“MAYA.”
“Please.”
Maya felt a knot in her stomach.
She took a deep breath. She dialed Steven’s number.
“Maya?” Steven’s voice came through the other end, relieved and tense at the same time. “Thank God, where were you? I called like a hundred times, I was about to...”
“Listen to me, Steven,” she interrupted him. She knew she should calm him down. She knew she should have been terrified. But every time she thought about it, she got angry. Not at herself. At him.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m tired of your controlling behavior,” she said.
“What?” Steven was speechless. “Maya, what are you talking about?”
“Don’t yell at me,” Maya interrupted him again. “I’m not going to tolerate you yelling at me.”
“I’m not yelling at you,” Steven said, confused. “I just want to know if you’re okay, I haven’t heard from you in almost two days. Why weren’t you answering?”
How was she supposed to answer him? She was walking naked through the forest, being a medieval queen who had no idea what a cell phone was.
Of course, Maya didn’t that detail. For her, it had been a spiritual retreat where electronic devices weren’t allowed. That was all. She couldn’t understand Steven’s suffocating attitude.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Maya answered.
“But what’s wrong with you, babe? I just want to know what happened.”
“Listen Steven, if you’re going to keep this up, it’s best we don’t see each other today. I’ll stay at a hotel. Maybe you can calm down.”
“A hotel?” Steven’s voice went up a notch. “Why? Maya, what’s going on?”
“I’m hanging up,” Maya said. “I’m not continuing this conversation.”
“Maya!” Steven managed to say.
She hung up.
She stood there for a moment, looking at the screen, her heart pounding. Then she felt hands on her shoulders. It was Ana.
“You’re so brave,” Ana said.
“I wish I had half your courage,” Tasha added from behind.
Maya was quiet for a moment.
“Shit, who wants to take me to the nearest hotel?” Maya asked, putting her phone away.
Everyone said “me.” But there was a voice that wasn’t part of the Musketeers.
“I will,” Raul said, from the threshold of the terrace.
Maya turned to look at him. He was leaning against the doorframe, with a smile that didn’t fade.
“I promised my husband I’d go to a hotel,” Maya said.
“And I swear I’ll take you to one,” Raul said. “And maybe I can check that the place is safe. Your husband wouldn’t want you staying in a dump, would he?”
“No,” Maya answered, and her voice was barely a whisper. “I guess not.”
Raul smiled and extended his hand.
Maya took it.