Chapter 5
Lucia, Basra, and three other ladies arrived by boat on Isla de sa Ferradura on that Saturday morning. Basra was overwhelmed by the beauty of the island.
“It looks like a painting,” she kept commenting to Lucia, who was also in awe.
As Basra walked on to the property, she was overcome with joy, feeling so blessed for the opportunity. Yet, in that same breath of gratification, she wondered about the consequence and questioned whether this good fortune was indeed good. Her mom used to say a great fortune can be a great slavery. Was she tangled in a weave that would be impossible to escape?
Basra glanced at Lucia, who was chatting with the other girls about the beauty of the mountainous cliffs. They seemed totally blissful with no worries or cares. But was it all an act? Were they any different from people who worked a nine-to-five and hated their jobs, but had to come into work each day with a smile so they could make ends meet? Everyone had to pretend at some point and time just to get by, and this was her moment on stage. Basra wandered a few feet away, gazed into the waters, and said a quiet prayer.
“God, let your will be done, protect and watch over me,” she whispered.
Over her shoulders she heard more voices on the pontoon. The staff was coming to escort them into the hacienda.
“Come on, Basra,” called Lucia.
“Welcome to paradise,” said one of the ladies.
The private island, which was situated just off Ibiza in the beautiful bay of San Miguel, had a beautiful hacienda, accommodated fourteen people, and was equipped with a spa, fitness center, elegant dining quarters, and a beauty salon.
Each of the ladies placed their bags in their rooms and walked on to the north terrace.
“My name is Yasmina, and I will be your maidservant this weekend. These are my assistants, Annisia and Sofia. If you need anything, feel free to call upon one of us. We have made appointments in the beauty center for each of you, so please enjoy, and welcome to paradise.”
The ladies followed the staff to the salon where Basra was treated to a facial, manicure, and pedicure. Lucia opted for the spa and relaxed with a warm basalt stone massage. In a few hours the ladies were primped and prepped to meet their hosts, a group of international steel magnates who rented the island that weekend. The women were asked to meet the men in the laguna garden and so they changed into swimsuits and lounge attire.
“This looks like the Garden of Eden,” said Lucia to Basra as they gazed at the cascading waterfall that emptied into the huge lagoon-shaped pool.
“And those must be the serpents,” Basra whispered while pointing to the steel moguls sitting around the pool.
“Stop it. Be pleasant,” Lucia said.
The women were introduced to the five men and for the first hour they all had fun mingling and dipping into the cool waters. Basra didn’t want to dip in the pool because she wanted her straight hair to last as long as possible. However, the Mediterranean mist was already curling her edges. She continued to look at the beautiful waterfall and finally couldn’t resist any longer. She untied her sarong and splashed into the blue waters. For a second, she almost forgot about the purpose of her trip. However, as she was swimming from underneath the cave and through the cascading waters of the waterfall, she saw the men gathering at the far left side of the laguna. With lustful, leering looks, they pointed like overzealous ranchers eyeing their new herd of cattle. Basra quickly swam over to Lucia, who was lounging by the side.
“Hey, look over there,” she said, pointing to the men.
Lucia looked up, glanced at the men, and then stretched back across her chair.
“They’re talking about us.”
“I’m sure they are. I hope I get the young one with the mustache.”
Basra looked at the men again. The short one caught her looking and smiled. Basra quickly looked away. Lucia could feel her anxiousness.
“Basra, don’t flake on me. You asked to come here, and you need the eight grand.”
“I’m not flaking, I just feel like property.”
“At two thousand a night, you are property. Rental property. After Wednesday, you never have to see them again.”
Basra frowned and plopped deep down into the water. Lucia sat up to see that her friend had disappeared completely into the pool. Lucia bent over and looked into the crystal blue water.
“You better not be trying to kill yourself,” she called out while smacking the water with her hand. “Basra, come up here! Basra!” she called again.
Within a few seconds, Basra bobbled up and exhaled deeply. She pulled her body from the water and propped it up on the sandy edge.
“Listen—” Lucia started, only to be halted by Basra.
“I don’t need a lecture or a speech. I’m fine.”
“Good, ’cause they are calling us over.”
Basra and the girls walked over to the deck. Yasmina and the staff handed the women towels and ushered them into the salon room, which was beautifully decorated with pristine white furnishings. The men soon followed. The youngest man, Fahad, spoke first.
“Once again, we want to thank you beautiful ladies for joining us this week. We work very hard and it’s nice to be able to come here, relax for a few days, and forget all of our worries. Helen, would you join me for drinks.” He held out his hand and he and the tall, blonde Swiss escort walked off.
Basra quickly whispered into Lucia’s ear. “Do we stay with one man for the week or do they switch? How does this work?”
Lucia ignored Basra and smiled at her next man of choice. Since she didn’t get the young one, she was hoping for the tall, thin guy who appeared to be in his forties. Seconds later, he walked over and picked her. One by one, the women were carried off like abandoned pets at a rescue shelter. Basra was last. She tried to smile as she stood with sad puppy-dog eyes when her date approached. Earlier by the pool, he’d explained that his birth name was Daiwik, which means by the grace of God, but he changed it to Derrick for ease of doing business in America.
“Would you like some food?” he asked. Basra quietly nodded. Derrick motioned for Annisia to bring them a menu. “Why don’t you look at the menu, order, and then go change.”
“Okay,” Basra said softly.
Rummaging through her suitcase, Basra found a long salmon-colored halter sundress. She returned to the dining area and joined Derrick. Upon her presence, he stood and was the perfect gentleman, even pulling out her chair and waiting before he sat. He avoided direct eye contact, as did she, and Basra could tell he was just as nervous. Their meal was served within minutes of her return and Basra felt it would ease her nerves if she simply broke the ice.
“Am I your girl for the entire week, or will you trade me off after a few hours?” she delivered with a quirky smile and a slight chuckle so as to not come across too brash.
“Well,” he slowly responded. “I do believe that you will stay with me this week. I do hope so,” Derrick said with a pleasant smile.
I can do this, I can do this. Basra continued to burrow this phrase in the base of mind. Derrick placed his hand on top of hers and rubbed it gently.
“Are you all right?” he questioned.
Basra nodded and continued to eat.
“You should think about changing your name. Are you Muslim?”
“I was raised Muslim,” she replied. “I no longer practice the religion.”
“Interesting. Why is that?”
“I just don’t. No reason. By the time I became a teenager, we stopped going to the mosque and when I moved to the U.S., I went to a Presbyterian church with a friend. Islam can be very confining.” Derrick stared pensively. “I don’t mean to offend you. But it’s not for me. I loved how we grew up and I believe it was what I needed as a child.”
“None taken. Islam has its place in society, but it is not for everyone,” Derrick commented.
“Why should I change my name?”
“You should choose something easier, sexier. Basra is very traditional for such a nontraditional girl.”
“I’m traditional. I mean, my lifestyle doesn’t necessarily reflect that, but I still have a lot of traditional ways.”
“I’m sure,” he replied.
They ate for a few more minutes in silence, but Basra couldn’t resist revisiting the name conversation once more. “So what would you name me?”
Derrick paused and stared quietly at Basra. “I don’t know, Rebecca maybe?”
“Uhghh. I look like a Rebecca to you? I’m certainly not a Rebecca. I need something more exotic, and unique.”
“Okay, how about Sandy?”
“I said exotic.” She chuckled as the tension began to dissipate.
“I’m from India, they are all exotic names to me.” He laughed.
The two chatted over a few more names, finished lunch, and went into the parlor room to listen to music. As the hours progressed, Basra only saw one other couple. As the sun set, her nerves grew.
“Where is everyone?” she asked Derrick.
“In their separate quarters, I would imagine.”
Basra grew very quiet, for she knew that they soon would be heading to their private suite, and that she’d start the performance of a lifetime.
They made it to the Bamboo Suite close to eight that evening, and Basra was surprisingly calm. Derrick didn’t seem to be a pervert or a crazed sex maniac, and she had psyched herself into the idea that this would be similar to having sex on the first date with a man she genuinely liked. Truthfully, she’d had a good time with Derrick and if it weren’t for the looming sexual proposition hanging over her head, it would have been a great time.
“Is there music in here?” she asked, sitting on the foot of the bed.
“I’m sure,” Derrick replied, looking around the room. He discovered a remote to a satellite radio and found a station playing ambient tunes. Derrick removed his shoes and lounged on the chaise. Both he and Basra were like quiet school kids, each waiting for the other to make a move.
“This is weird. Is this weird?” she asked. Derrick grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll be back,” she expressed.
Basra walked into the restroom and quickly removed her dress. “I’m going to just get it over with, and then fall asleep.” She took a deep breath and exited, wearing matching dark blue undergarments. Basra posed against the bamboo posts of the canopy bed. Her body looked absolutely perfect, like an airbrushed lingerie ad. Derrick stayed seated and stared. Basra thought he’d make a move, but since he didn’t, she strutted across the floor and draped her body across his. He continued to stay still and so she leaned up and kissed him. He indulged in the lip lock for a few seconds and then pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, lifting off his body.
“Could you just have a seat? I just want to look at you.”
“Oh,” Basra responded softly and walked back to the foot of the bed.
Derrick rose and poured a glass of wine from the chilled bottle on the table. “Would you like some?” he asked.
“I’m good.”
Derrick walked back to the chaise and took a seat. An uneasy feeling came over Basra as he continued to stare. She was now more nervous than before when she thought they were just going to have sex. What is he going to ask me to do? she wondered.
In the Laguna Suite, Lucia certainly was not wondering what was on the mind of her date, as he was very verbal and demanding.
“Dance, strip, and then come over here and please me orally,” he insisted.
He also asked that she continue to shower him with compliments while demoralizing herself with distasteful, derogatory comments. This display of gratuitous behavior had been going on for two hours, and even Lucia was growing tired of his antics and questioning the value of the gig.
“Dance harder!” Ahsan called out.
Lucia jutted her hips to the right and slightly rolled her eyes.
“You make faces at me?” he asked in anger. Lucia didn’t respond and continued to dance.
“Turn around, you slut, and swing your hair.” Lucia made another small gesture of dislike. This time Ahsan clearly saw the disgust. He hastened to her side while yelling.
“You will love this! You will do it with pleasing eyes. You are filthy and you have no say!” Ahsan wrapped his long, skinny fingers around Lucia’s neck and began to choke her. At first she went along with his force, for she was familiar with men who used force as foreplay. However, when she began feeling lightheaded, she struggled to break loose. He continued to choke her until her body went limp. Lucia collapsed on the floor. Ahsan stood over her body and grinned.
Basra’s evening was moving in the complete opposite direction as Lucia’s. Although Derrick asked that she not place her clothing back on, he only wanted to sit and talk. Basra was relieved but still wondered if he was setting her up for a surprise act of debauchery. If so, she would have to wait until the morning, because the two of them talked throughout the night until Basra finally fell asleep on the edge of the bed.
The following morning the group of women met on the roof terrace for breakfast. The men ate on a separate side. The girls were full of chatter just like any girl would be after a first date. Basra was amazed at how conditioned the women had become. She didn’t say much, which was normal, but she was shocked at the quiet, still manner of Lucia, which was the antithesis of her personality. As Lucia devoured her French toast, Basra stirred up conversation.
“You okay? You don’t look so well.”
Lucia didn’t say anything, only smiled with a mouthful of breakfast, and nodded her head. Lucia was always the loquacious ringleader but this morning as she sat quiet as a church mouse, Basra knew something was awry. Yet she knew not to pry while others were around. Immediately after breakfast, the girls were asked to join the men on the luxurious fifty-foot yacht. Once again, Basra was enraptured by the opulence of the twenty-four-karat gold trimmings and marble accents. She’d seen wealth like this from afar but never experienced it firsthand. Who wouldn’t want to live like this? she asked herself. The group began branching off into couples but before Basra left Lucia’s side, she pulled her aside for quick line of questioning.
“Are you okay? Did something happen to you last night? Why are you so quiet?”
“Par for the course,” Lucia replied before looking to her right and left.
Basra moved closer and stared into Lucia’s eyes. “Something happened?”
Lucia leaned in to whisper. “It’s Ahsan, he—”
From around the corner, Ahsan appeared. “There
you are. Let’s go to the top, the view is wonderful.”
Lucia placed on her pageant smile and held out her hand. “Let’s go,” she replied. The two walked down the corridor hand in hand. Basra went to the restroom and then met Derrick in the sky lounge of the upper deck. They sat and had drinks as the yacht sailed slowly into the Mediterranean.
“Whose boat is this?” Basra asked.
“It belongs to Ahsan’s family. They usually keep it in Ibiza at their home.”
“Ibiza’s that way? Right?” Basra said, pointing west.
“Yes,” Derrick commented, scooting a bit closer to his date. He smiled at her and then softly grazed her leg. This intimate gesture didn’t make Basra cringe or pull away. It was as though she almost welcomed it.
“You’re not attracted to me, are you?” she asked.
“You are very beautiful,” he replied.
“But you didn’t answer my question.”
“You look like the women from home. I find you very attractive.”
Basra thought about his response for a second before responding. “How come you haven’t tried to sleep with me?”
“Because I am happily married.”
Basra was shocked. “We’ve been talking all this time and you never said you were married.”
Derrick laughed quietly and cast his focus into the waters.
“So ... why did you come here?”
“These are my business partners and I was invited. It would have been rude to decline.”
“But you knew there would be women on the boat, right? Escorts?”
“Of course. They have these sorts of excursions often. I normally do not participate; however, my stake in the company is greater now, and I’m expected to entertain with them. All of us are married. I simply choose to be faithful to my wife.”
“So you don’t want to sleep with me?”
“It isn’t a matter of desire, it is a matter of discipline.”
Basra gave a half-grinning, half-unsettling expression and quickly turned away to avoid Derrick from seeing the tears well. However, he rose and walked to her other side, forcing her to face him.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset,” she uttered.
She placed her head on his shoulder and sobbed while speaking. “This is not what I want to do. I do it because I have to right now. I don’t ...” Basra lifted her head. “I will still get paid, won’t I?”
“Of course. In fact, I’m willing to pay you a little more for your discretion.” Basra’s tears filled again. She knew without a doubt that in spite of her actions, God was still watching over her, and so she whispered a quiet thank you, and continued to look out into the sparkling blue waters of the Mediterranean.
On the roof deck, Ahsan seemed to be a little gentler than the night before. Lucia was enjoying her coffee as he smoked a His Majesty’s Reserve Ghurka. He turned toward Lucia and blew a puff of the cognac-infused cigar smoke in her face.
Ahsan looked at Lucia and released a devious grin. “I could toss you over this deck right now and no one would know.”
Lucia smiled through the cloud of tobacco haze and replied. “Then I guess I should thank you for sparing my life.”
“You should. I should also get a reward.”
Lucia leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Ahsan took her hand and forced her to grab his crotch and squeeze. Lucia’s hand tensed up as he pulled her upper body close to the railing. Lucia immediately went into character.
“I’m just a worthless slut. Why would you risk your soul with Allah on someone like me?”
Ahsan peered into Lucia’s eyes and then burst into a strong, lusty laugh. “I like you!” he jeered and continued to chortle while releasing her hand.
Lucia, who had been holding her breath for the last thirty seconds, finally exhaled and laughed along with him.
“Excuse me,” he said and walked away to the restroom.
Once he got out of eyesight, Lucia furiously ran downstairs to find Basra.
“Dove!” Derrick called out. “Your name should be Dove.”
“Dove? I like that.”
“Yes, it’s exotic, it’s simple. And it’s a symbol of peace. Your spirit is very peaceful. They are thoroughbreds of the sky, you know. Wherever they are released, they typically find their way back home.”
“The only thing I know about doves is that they are pigeons. I don’t know if I want to be a pigeon,” chuckled Basra.
“Doves are very smart. In the Bible a dove was released to help Noah find land.”
“You’re Muslim; what do you know about the Bible?”
“It is wise to be knowledgeable in all aspects of theology. From now on you are Dove: innocent, peaceful, and intelligent.”
Basra continued to giggle. Suddenly, Lucia rushed up behind her.
“I need to talk with you.”
“Is everything okay?” asked Derrick.
“Yes, I just need to talk to my friend. Female stuff.”
Lucia pulled Basra from her date and pushed her around the corner.
“What is it?” Basra asked.
“Ahsan is going to kill me. We have to go!”
“What!” yelped Basra. “He is not!”
“Last night he choked me until I passed out and when I became conscious, he had bound my feet and arms together. I can’t even get into the rest.”
“Oh my God.”
“But that’s not the worst of it. I’ve had some very kinky encounters with men, and I normally don’t judge, but just now he said he could throw me off the boat and kill me and no one would know or care because I’m just a dirty slut.”
Basra’s eyes bulged. “That’s not good.”
“We have to go,” persisted Lucia.
“Go where? We can’t go. We’re on an island.”
“We have to go somewhere. He is horrible. He smells like stinky cigars, his feet are like claws. His penis is the size of my middle finger and did I mention that he’s going to kill me.”
Basra’s big eyes grew larger.
“You okay?” asked Lucia.
“Uh huh,” she answered while furiously blinking and nodding.
Her odd, rapid actions made Lucia turn around. Standing over her shoulder was Ahsan, who appeared from nowhere with a raging expression indicating that he was not pleased with Lucia’s attempt to escape.