uncontrollabls

Again, Your Majesty?” the servant murmured, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and anticipation as she knelt by the puddle on the ornate marble floor. The air was thick with the unmistakable scent of urine, mingling with the faint fragrance of jasmine incense burning in the corner of the royal chambers.

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Queen Nandini adjusted herself on the edge of her golden throne, her heavily pregnant belly straining against the silk of her gown. She sighed, a deep, satisfied sound that echoed through the room. “It’s this child,” she said, her voice carrying a regal yet exhausted tone. “They press on my bladder day and night. What am I to do? Deny nature?”

The servant, a young woman named Amara, dipped her head lower, her cheeks flushing as she reached for the embroidered cloth she had brought to clean the mess. “Of course not, Your Majesty. It is our honor to serve you in this way.” Her hands trembled slightly as she pressed the cloth into the warm, wet puddle, feeling the liquid seep into the fabric. The sensation sent a shiver up her spine, a strange thrill she could never admit to anyone.

Nandini watched her with half-lidded eyes, her fingers idly tracing the curve of her swollen belly. “You enjoy this, don’t you, Amara?” she asked, her voice low and husky. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement, one that made Amara’s breath hitch in her throat.

Amara’s eyes widened, and she hesitated for a moment before nodding almost imperceptibly. “I… I do, Your Majesty,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s an honor to be so close to you, to serve you in such an intimate way.”

Nandini chuckled softly, the sound rich and velvety. “You’re not the first servant to feel this way. They all think I don’t notice, but I see everything.” She shifted slightly, her thighs parting as another wave of pressure built within her. “It’s not just the cleaning, is it? It’s the act itself. Watching me. Seeing me… lose control.”

Amara’s breath quickened, her fingers clutching the soiled cloth tighter. She couldn’t meet the queen’s gaze, but she nodded again, her heart pounding in her chest. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a whimper. “It’s… it’s exquisite.”

Nandini leaned back against the throne, her hands resting on her belly as she let out a soft moan. “Good,” she purred. “Because I have no intention of stopping. This child has made me helpless, and I rather enjoy it.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she felt another surge of pressure in her bladder. “It won’t be long now.”

Amara’s pulse raced as she watched the queen’s face, the subtle changes in her expression as she battled against the inevitable. She knew what was coming, and the anticipation was almost unbearable. The queen’s thighs tensed, her breath catching as she surrendered to the sensation, the sound of liquid hitting the marble floor filling the room once more.

The stream was steady and strong, pooling around the legs of the throne and trickling toward where Amara knelt. The servant’s eyes were glued to the sight, her body tingling with an illicit excitement she couldn’t suppress. The warmth, the scent, the sheer vulnerability of the queen—it was intoxicating.

When the flow finally subsided, Nandini let out a deep sigh of relief, her body relaxing against the throne. “There,” she said, smiling lazily. “That’s better.” She glanced down at Amara, who was still kneeling in the puddle, her hands trembling as she held the soaked cloth. “Don’t look so embarrassed, my dear. You’re not the only one who finds this… stimulating.”

Amara’s cheeks burned, but she dared to look up at the queen, her eyes wide with disbelief and desire. “Your Majesty…” she began, but Nandini raised a hand to silence her.

“Enough,” the queen said firmly, though her tone was not unkind. “Clean this up and then return to your duties. But know this—you will be back here tomorrow, and the next day, and every day until this child is born. I need you, Amara. And I think you need me just as much.”

Amara nodded quickly, swallowing hard as she bent to finish cleaning the floor. Her hands moved mechanically, her mind racing with thoughts she barely dared to acknowledge. The queen was right—she did need this. The intimacy, the submission, the raw power dynamic between them—it filled something inside her she hadn’t even known was empty.

As she worked, Nandini watched her with a satisfied smile, her hands absently stroking her belly. She could feel another pressure building already, a reminder that this was far from over. “Hurry along, Amara,” she murmured, her voice dripping with amusement. “I may not be able to wait much longer.