Marie-Thérèse de Cuisse is send to Malik Maruk to bring the four pregnant princesses he won eight years ago during the races of Wonderbourg. Like every important person in the Empire, the best trainer of white females is carrying on an experiment related to the deacreasing power of the Naffi Effect, and will make a major discovery that will change everything...

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184 Pages (92 double pages)

31 700 Words

26 Drawings (1 in color)

ISBN: 978-2-491740-17-7

 

Small leather bags were slipped over her fists and tied around her wrists with a shoelace. Finally, her feet were shoved into calf-high boots.

When he had finished, the man let go of her and stepped back to contemplate his handiwork. Bérengère thought she could walk away, only to discover that she could barely stand. She was staggering on her boots, which stiff tips forced her to walk on her toes like an ungulate; thick leather pucks under them, probably representing hooves, made walking even more perilous.

The man attached a lanyard to her bit with a small snap hook and prevented her from regaining her footing. He laughed as he watched her wobble awkwardly trying to keep her balance, which made her blush with shame; what a ­spectacle she must have made of herself, naked and harnessed, staggering like a fawn while her swollen belly and breasts bounced with every jerk. What’s more, the puck under her toes was very noisy, like the heels of tap shoes. Each of her steps made a sound similar to the clacking of hooves.

The man who had been penetrating Marie-Thérèse de Cuisse had finished his work, and the other was insisting more and more on replacing him. And while Bérengère preoccupied herself with keeping her balance, the man who had harnessed her introduced his organ into the blonde author’s mouth. The other man lowered his djellaba and began removing the nails from the lid of a second crate. 

Bérengère had just noticed three other crates on the ground similar to the one in which she had traveled. More captives? She turned her attention to where she was; a barren dirt track beside an old Citroën truck, between dense jungle and a vertical cliff. Was she going to be left here in the middle of nowhere? A rocky path that climbed up to go around the cliff seemed to be the only possible way out, unless she wanted to go deep into the jungle.

When the Arab bandit lifted the lid, Bérengère saw a naked woman inside the crate, soaking wet and red as a lobster out of the pot. She recognized her cousin Frédégonde de Wonderbourg. 

Frédégonde, here? Caught up in the shame of being disguised as a mare in the presence of her famous cousin, Bérengère had the unfortunate reflex of trying to hide her intimacy with her hands, though with her leather gloves it looked ridiculous! She squeezed her thighs, which threw her off balance and drew the attention of Frédégonde, who was getting used to the light.

“Bérengère de Vainebl ...?” she exclaimed before the man holding her had stuffed the bit into her mouth.

He put the belt around her waist, and Bérengère noticed that she was just as pregnant as she was; probably seven months, but looking nine! She thought it was a coincidence, but only until she saw Cunégonde de Wonderbourg, another of her cousins, emerge from the third crate in the same state of pregnancy.

She immediately thought of the foul Yusuf Bourid. Did he bring them to this place to ward off potential heirs to the throne, or was it the fulfillment of some perverse fantasy of an inhabitant of this part of the world? 

She looked around. There was no other vehicle than the one that had delivered them, so this place was where they were expected! What people, having such power, would come and bury themselves in this isolated spot? She really was in the back of beyond, and no one would come looking for her.