Only hours after giving birth, Salhoni’s body was already being put back to its true purpose. The royal midwives had barely finished cleaning her when King Vardhan ordered the throne room cleared for a private yet public “recovery ceremony.” The newborn heir was taken to a wet-nurse in the adjoining chamber, but Salhoni herself received no such mercy. Her belly, though no longer massively distended, still hung soft and slightly rounded from the recent birth. Her tits, however, were even more obscene—hyper-engorged from the sudden hormonal surge, each one larger than her head, painfully tight, veined, and leaking thick, nutrient-rich colostrum-milk in constant heavy dribbles that ran down her ribs and soaked the padded recovery table.

She was positioned on her back once more, legs locked wide in the stirrups, wrists chained above her head. A fresh leather harness cinched tight under her heavy breasts, lifting the massive, leaking udders even higher so they rested on her chest like two overfilled sacks ready to burst. The golden bowls beneath her were replaced with wider, deeper ones to catch the expected flood.