Not Indian, Not Portugese, She Is From Either...
The laxatives had worked exactly as intended and her shit was runny, seeping into every crevice inside her nappy before seeping out around her legs and back. Restrained and gagged as she was unable to do anything about the stinking mess covering her, and she cried herself to sleep, her humiliation tempered only by the all consuming exhaustion brought on by the sedation.She woke up several more times in the night as the laxatives did their work in completely clearing her system out into her filled nappy. On top of that she was unable to stop herself from pissing herself as normal, and it was in this state that he found her the next morning. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying, and she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye, her utter humiliation at his hands too much to bear. The conditioning of the previous week had done its work, however, and it was the honest tears of a little girl that soaked the shoulder of his shirt as he lifted her from her bed and carried her. “Your Highness, please, I have news.” When I didn’t stop, he waited a few moments and then rushed to catch up. “There are visitors in the tunnels,” he continued, his voice rather higher pitched than it had been a moment before.I frowned even as I kept walking. “Well, they’re going to have to wait. Show them to the sitting room near the main hall and I’ll get to them when I’ve got time.”The outright panic in his voice finally shook me out of my worried thoughts. “I can’t!”I stopped, facing the young soldier directly, trying to muster my patience. “Why not?”“It’s the King, your Highness! You can’t just leave him waiting like that!”I dropped my face into my hand, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. “Of course it sodding is,” I muttered, trying not to roll my eyes at the horrified gasp of the man standing in front of me. “That man has the worst bloody timing.” I didn’t usually swear, but the conflicting duties tore at me and I couldn’t seem to help it.Thinking frantically, I.
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