The Live Show My Husband Didn’t Want to See

My name is Mariana, and I turned eighteen fourteen years ago. I like saying it that way, because of the confused look that comes over people’s faces while they do the math. I’m not self-conscious about my age. After a pregnancy, my waist isn’t what it used to be, but I kept it, and my breasts went from a B cup to a C. I am, as they say, a fully grown woman, and I learned to wear it with pride.

What I’m about to tell you changed my life completely. There was a before and an after, and the line between them is one single night.

I married Adrián when I finished college. We met young, back in that time when you believe desire will last forever. He was the kind who didn’t leave a single corner of the house untried: the kitchen, the bathroom, the living room sofa, the patio when night fell. I was always very sexual, but never with just anyone, and that’s why what we had felt like a miracle to me. At last I had a full life, without the emptiness left by masturbating alone, chasing an orgasm that almost never came completely.

Everything went wrong with the pregnancy. Don’t get me wrong: I adore my daughter. But I feel like something was taken with her, that we weren’t ready. The last time Adrián fucked me with real passion was soon after we found out. We came home exhausted, undressed in the entryway as always, and that night was different: rough, possessive, with an intensity I didn’t know he had and that, to my surprise, I loved. I remember it the way you remember the last time you saw the sea.

After that, nothing. The pregnancy went on and he stopped touching me. He said he was afraid of hurting me, of hurting the baby. I accepted it grudgingly. The weeks passed, our daughter was born, diapers and sleepless nights arrived, and he still rejected any approach.

—More wine? —I asked him one night, looking for an excuse to brush his hand.

—I’m fine —he replied without looking up from his phone.

I was not fine at all.

I tried everything. Lingerie, photos, welcoming him naked in bed. I even begged him, with those exact words, like a beggar in my own house. His answer was always the same, said with a calm that hurt more than any shout:

—It’s not that big a deal, Mariana. It’s just sex.

—Sex is as natural and necessary as eating or breathing —I shot back one night, trembling with rage—. Don’t give me that nonsense.

That night I slept in my daughter’s room. And I made a decision: I would do something drastic, one last test. If it failed, I would leave him. I wasn’t going to share my life with someone incapable of feeling empathy for the woman he claimed to love.

***

The plan was simple: turn him on until he begged me. A friend had told me about a place, some kind of elegant restaurant with a secret. I invited him to dinner, pretending I wanted to talk, to make peace. White tablecloths, impeccable waiters, soft music from a string trio. And in the center, a large circular stage visible from every table.

—Honey, I don’t want to lose what we have —I began—. I’m just asking for a little empathy.

—You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. We have a beautiful house and a lovely daughter. I don’t see the problem.

—The problem is that I don’t feel loved.

—Look, it’s not that I don’t love you anymore —he said, lowering his voice like someone confessing something unimportant—. It just stopped drawing my attention. And just so you know, I’m not looking anywhere else either. It just stopped mattering to me, that’s all.

Something inside me broke, silently, without a sound. We spent the rest of dinner without speaking. We asked for the bill, but when we stood up, a huge man was blocking the door. Beside him, a woman in a black miniskirt and a vest that barely contained her breasts smiled at us.

—Sorry. From now on, and until the show ends, no one goes in or out. Please take your seats and enjoy yourselves.

—What kind of place did you bring me to? —Adrián muttered.

—I was hoping it would motivate you a little —I replied without looking at him—. But it doesn’t matter now.

***

The lights went out. A man’s voice filled the room from hidden speakers, announcing a touring company, the Sirens of the North, and their first guest: Freya. The spotlights caught a tall, slender blonde as she stepped onto the stage wrapped in a green robe. She slipped it off in one slow motion. Underneath she wore a leaf-pattern lace set, garters, sheer stockings, all matched to her blue eyes.

Classical music started and, suddenly, a dozen girls in lingerie ran among the tables, playing, brushing shoulders, letting themselves be watched. The men didn’t lose sight of a single movement. Then the music slowed and the girls began kissing and touching each other, forming pairs in full view of everyone.

In the center, Freya spread her arms and two girls kissed her from fingertips to neck. They removed her bra, caressed her breasts, slid their hands down to her crotch and began touching her over the fabric. Screens that had been dark until then lit up, showing her in close-up. Her moans echoed in every corner.

I glanced at Adrián out of the corner of my eye. He didn’t miss a thing. I put a hand on his crotch and felt the bulge growing under his pants.

—Want us to go to the bathroom and I help you with this? —I whispered.

—Leave me alone, Mariana. I just want this to be over so we can go.

Fine. So after all, the problem was me. His body preferred any of those women over his own wife.

Freya’s number ended in an explosion: two girls were penetrating her with transparent glass toys while a third pressed a vibrator against her clit. She arched her back and let out a gush that soaked the stage. The room burst into applause. I touched myself over the dress and found I was drenched. I felt, without hiding it, envy.

***

—And now, the main event of the night —announced the voice—. You met Freya. It’s time to meet the red-haired queen. Skadi!

A figure wrapped in a black cloak advanced through reddish light. She climbed onto the stage and let the hood fall: pale skin, red lips, a mane of fire, eyes an almost impossible blue. When she spoke, she did so with a soft foreign accent.

—Tonight we’re looking for a woman with the strength and courage to join us. This is our last show in this country, so we’ll give one of you the opportunity. But don’t be mistaken: being beautiful isn’t enough. You have to be willing to push your own body to the limit.

No one moved. The women in the room laughed, encouraged one another, but none raised a hand.

—This is ridiculous —Adrián muttered.

That word exhausted my patience. Not only had he thrown my sex life in the trash; now he was allowing himself to look down on other women. I stood up.

—Mariana, what are you doing? Sit down right now! —he grabbed my arm hard.

I slapped him so hard it rang through the whole room.

—Don’t you dare touch me. You made it very clear you don’t want me, so you’ll never do it again.

I walked toward the stage under everyone’s stunned gaze.

***

—Well, you’ve got fire inside you —Skadi said when she greeted me. She came closer and kissed me. I froze; I had never kissed a woman. But something in her voice undid me—. Let go, little flame.

I kissed her back. The audience exploded in cheers. I looked for Adrián: he was red, furious, unrecognizable. I had never seen him like that, and that only made me want to keep going.

—Let us see you —she asked, and made me turn.

I was wearing a long black dress with a slit up the left leg, a lace thong, and no bra, because until the very last moment I had kept hoping to seduce my husband. Skadi stripped off her cloak: a leather harness left her breasts bare, firm, with nipples pointed straight at me.

—Runa, Bjorn, come here —she called—. Let’s test our friend’s resolve.

Two young people in their twenties appeared, twins, blond and pale-skinned. She was slender, with black feathers woven into her hair. He was athletic, wearing a loincloth.

—I’m going to give you three tests —Skadi said—. Runa is an expert in women’s bodies. If you last fifteen minutes without cumming, you pass the first one.

Bjorn placed a collar around my neck.

—It measures your pulse. No cheating.

In one corner of the screens, a stopwatch appeared and a number: eighty-seven beats, rising.

—Are you sure you want to put yourself on display like this, in front of so many strangers? —he asked me.

—I don’t think anyone cares —I said, looking straight at Adrián.

The stopwatch started. Runa, with a skill that contradicted her innocent air, slid her hand through the slit in my dress and began stroking me over my clothes. She kissed my breasts through the neckline. With one movement she took off my dress and I was left almost naked before a crowd. My pulse jumped. I crossed my arms over my chest instinctively, but Skadi stood behind me and forced them down. The screens showed my nipples erect, a little longer than usual since I had breastfed.

Runa took advantage of that to put them in her mouth while her other hand found its way under my thong. Her fingers massaged my lips, her middle finger brushed my clit, and my pulse climbed to one hundred and two. I kept searching for Adrián with my eyes, wanting him to understand that all of this was for him, for his indifference.

They removed my last garment. Runa knelt behind me and opened me fully to show me to the room. I was dizzy, barely registering the whistles. I could only imagine my sex projected on those screens, dripping. She penetrated me with two fingers while her other hand rubbed my clit.

—Five minutes left and she’s already at one hundred twenty beats —announced the voice, trying to fire up the crowd. But those words were motivating me.

I tried to think of anything, of accounts, deadlines, whatever. It didn’t help. I started moaning uncontrollably. Runa caught my clit between two fingers and worked it as if it were a tiny phallus, sliding the hood back and forth, giving it no rest, while three fingers sank into me at the same time.

—Please… I can’t anymore… —I panted.

—Hold on, you’re almost there. You’ve got one minute left.

I came. I couldn’t stop myself. The collar registered the peak and then dropped. But on the screens the stopwatch read fifteen minutes and seven seconds. I had made it, by the skin of my teeth. A feeling of victory flooded me that I hadn’t felt in years. Until I remembered where I was and what had just happened in front of an entire room. I looked for Adrián and threw him a triumphant glance. He crumpled his napkin, stood up, and went to the bathroom.

***

—You passed the first test —Skadi said—. Do you want to continue?

I nodded, still breathless. The second test was led by Bjorn, that blue-eyed young man who looked at me without desire, like a sister, as if it were all a game.

—During your little show I noticed you’re one of those women who turn into a fountain —Skadi told me—. For that we have a special tool. But you’ll have to trust us. Are you still sure?

I was afraid, but after tonight the divorce was a fact, and my face would be all over the internet within hours. I had nothing left to lose.

—Go ahead.

They blindfolded me. Several of the girls appeared with ropes and straps. They tied my hands behind my back, made an intricate knot around my breasts, strapped my thighs. The ropes tightened and I began to rise until I was suspended in the air, sitting on nothing, legs spread.

—Tonight you’re the star —Skadi whispered—. Do you have a stage name?

Hanging there, tied up and blind, I looked for something that represented me.

—Iaso —I said at last. The Greek goddess of healing. I was a nurse; it felt right.

—Iaso. Perfect.

She kissed my forehead. Amid the cheers, I managed to hear a metallic noise, like a workshop tool. Dozens of hands started roaming over me: my neck, my feet, my buttocks, my nipples, my thighs. Two held my lips open, another exposed my clit. I was a sea of fluids and I couldn’t even see.

Then I felt a cold, rigid pressure at my entrance. Something thick began to penetrate me, thicker than anything I had ever felt. My walls stretched; it hurt for an instant, but I was so wet that I gave way immediately.

—Bjorn, darling —ordered Skadi—. Start it up.

It began to go in and out, slowly at first. Then I heard the noise again, and the rhythm shot up to an impossible speed. It was thrusting faster than I could count, and I felt less like a woman and more like an object created to receive pleasure. I understood then that I was no one: I was a machine. A machine was fucking me, and the roar grew louder with every second.

—More power! —Skadi shouted.

Vertigo rushed through me, the vulva, the belly, everything vibrated in time with the device.

—They’re going to split me in two… please… —I shouted, and came like never before in my life.

At the exact instant of the orgasm, they yanked the machine out and I let out a gush that crossed the stage. The room roared. They removed the blindfold. The device was a long, thick black dildo attached to a hand saw. Bjorn was operating it with a boyish smile. I was a mess, hair tangled, covered in my own fluids. And then I saw him: Adrián, in the front row, hit by my spray.

—Are you happy now? Was this what you wanted? —he spat.

—I haven’t been this happy in a long time —I answered, breathless—. Shame you didn’t want to be part of it.

He took off his ring, left it on the stage, and walked off where I couldn’t see him anymore.

***

—Thank you all —Skadi announced—. We’ll give our farewell.

The girls came back between the tables, naked, touching themselves. Some couples in the audience were no longer holding back: in the corners there were bodies tangled together, discreet hands, eyes fixed on the screens that were still showing me.

Bjorn turned that device on me again and I jolted in the ropes. I was so sensitive that every vibration felt like a lash. At last I stopped thinking about who was watching. I only wanted the pleasure that had been denied to me for so long. Another gush, and another, until I lost count of the orgasms.

—I can’t anymore… —I panted.

But they kept coming. When Bjorn put the machine aside, he took off his loincloth. His sex was smaller than I had expected, and after the metal monster I could barely feel it. I saw a flash of disappointment on his face and, for some reason, I felt tenderness for him.

—Hey —I told him—. Don’t you want to do it from behind? I’ve never tried it, but they say it feels good. And I want to thank you.

I don’t know whether he understood me, but he pressed his sex against my ass and pushed. I was so soaked in my own juices that it slid in without much effort. It hurt, but I let him do it. He gripped my hip and fucked me all the way in.

—Fuck, that hurts more than I thought —I blurted out.

I saw that he was finally satisfied. Skadi and Freya came over, one on each side.

—You didn’t have to do it, Iaso. We appreciate it. You’re one of us now.

—But… wasn’t I missing one test? —I asked between gasps.

—No such thing —Skadi laughed—. The last test was whether you’d be willing to go further. And you already proved it.

—And that… the fountain… what was that?

—It’s our final act. One of us becomes a fountain from which pleasure bursts. Americans call it squirt, and the audience loves it. That’s why we save it for the end.

—I’d never done that before —I confessed.

—It’s because your lover lacked vigor.

I laughed, exhausted and shaking, with a laugh that sounded like freedom.

***

We kept going until the lights came on. We bowed and the doors opened. I looked for Adrián, but he was already gone. I decided to turn the page and join the girls.

They were kind to me. I didn’t understand half of what they said, but they welcomed me like family, me and my daughter, who is now happy to have so many older sisters. We’re preparing the next tour, where I’ll make my debut as part of the company. I never thought that night, dressed up to beg a man who no longer wanted me, would end up being the night I stopped pleading and finally began to feel.