21

III

With equal curiosity, but at a different day and hour, the king of the counties beyond Ulan Bator nearer Lyon, after spending a good night with his young slave, said good morning to his wife.

The king said good morning to his wife. It was the custom of both to spend their breakfast in good humor. The queen had slept well. A new young woman from the Magyar plains enjoyed. The king of a muscular combat slave received. So the couple was in a good mood.

--Something ails your worship. Is it not a girlish thing?

--Yes, it is. You have a good eye. That countess. I don't know who she is. She has strange features. She's a bastard. She stands on the edge of the abyss, she slips in the softness of the room. She loses neither thread nor footstep.

--Unquestionably a husband she has never met.

--I don't think I'll ever meet him. The speed of the wedding, it is because his power wants to expand. I'm afraid she has the means.

--And the duke?

--He wants to die as quickly as possible. The countess will oblige him.

--Tertiaries in the matter?

The monarch was about to answer.

The new lady-in-waiting with blond hair in strong braids appeared. Strong and peasant, she was a very beautiful blonde in her coarseness.

The king smiled. She was as fresh as a lettuce. Her energy the voracious Kingess in nights of sensual and dirty combat was no doubt going to exhaust her.

The Queen looked at her husband. You want to find out, I know you want to find out," he said.

--Yes, of course,"-- said the man.

--Well, you know the way and the manner.

The king looked at her and they both smiled. They finished eating. The king attended to some business.

Then he went to the room. A fire... Abundant incense. Naked the Queen. The King entered.

Truly it was a magnificent body that of the queen daughter of Saigon the Queen had. Tits of a whore, hips of a whore, legs of a whore, face of a queen...

He brought the slave in. Naked. The Queen with hungry sensuality saw him. His parts she touched and laughed at the tremendous monstrosity. With expert lips she worked and then, getting into position, the slave with brutality possessed her, making her scream And her hair fluttered, then when the clamor subsided on the floor, she lay.

The king masturbating the scene saw the scene and then the woman with blank eyes in the middle of the trance expressed.

--It does not come from any daughter of the count. The old count, on an excursion through the forest lands of sacred trees, received a girl from strange hands to be his heir and to take care of and prosper the kingdom; since she was a child, strange studies fascinated her. Not wanting to have political business, she delved into the mysteries of the universe. In that world of potions, magic and travels through the skies she lived, happy to have the freedom that her false father gave her.

From her mother she learned the strange arts of her black jungle, for through bonfires and lighted pots her communication was never short.

In bad hour a warrior of the cold desert came looking for tributes, he saw her and raped her, then this Baimei girl was born.

The mother did not want her, because her virginity was a gift to a demon. It was not fulfilled. Now the girl has mother who watches over her, her arts teaches her and all that is planned in advance she sees it. She knows what you are planning, if you want to defeat her, don't think about it, don't talk about it, don't divulge it, and maybe this way you will be able to win.

The woman finished coming out of the trance and her husband preparing to leave the room tried.

--You tell me nothing new. If you wanted to use the slave, all you had to do was ask. I don't want lies, I only want the truth.

--Well, it's the truth. And yes, I do want the slave, for I have not yet appeased my desires, I must be lacking a man....

--And of woman too...

The queen sighed remembering Baimei's visit. In protocol dinner the princess Marwa daughter of the desert to all known. Her movements, postures, the art of smiling, none of it held any mystery for her. The intense honey-colored eyes of the Queen fascinated her. As they were retiring to their rooms, the princess touched her hand, and the Queen nervously in the hallway stopped.

--Not here...Not here-" in a choked and complicit voice at the insinuating smile of the visiting princess she replied.

Sighing and panting on the bed of soft pillows, both emulated Sappho, with passionate kisses and licking, soon with several exhausted sighs, full of the fragor of the satisfied sin, naked and beautiful, they were contemplating themselves in the mirror.