Chapter 3

Inside the room, Mrs. Gloria slowly sat at the edge of the bed and observed Emmy's still sleeping face. The girl's breathing was steady, her lips slightly parted, with a pacifier still in her mouth. A small smile curved on Ms. Gloria's face. Gently, she stroked Emmy's head, tucking a few strands of hair away from her face.

"Honey, wake up!" She called softly, giving Emmy's body a light shake.

Emmy blinked her eyes, still half-asleep. Her face showed brief confusion before she finally realized where she was. Her eyes met Mrs. Gloria's gaze, who immediately reached out to lift Emmy's body onto her lap.

Without giving Emmy a chance to fully awaken, Mrs. Gloria reached for the pacifier still in her mouth and gently pulled it out. Then, with one hand, she pulled down the front of the sheer lingerie she was wearing, revealing her full, huge breast. With slow but firm movement, she guided Emmy's head to rest against her soft chest, making sure the girl was ready to have her breakfast, as usual.

"It's breakfast time, honey!" Mrs. Gloria whispered, guiding Emmy's head to her chest.

Just like every other morning, Emmy could only surrender as her lips touched the warm skin and began to nurse. The familiar taste of breast milk filled her mouth, something that had long become part of her daily routine.

Mrs. Gloria gazed at Emmy with a satisfied expression, gently stroking her back while enjoying the moment. To her, this was the most precious time, when Emmy fully submitted to her, like a real baby entirely dependent on her mother.

For about ten minutes, the room was filled with silence. Only the soft sound of sucking and small gulps could be heard, occasionally accompanied by Emmy's quiet sighs as she tried to contain her embarrassment.

Once she felt it was enough, Mrs. Gloria slowly pulled Emmy away from her huge breast. She tucked her breast back into the lingerie, then patted Emmy's back a few times, like a mother burping her baby.

"Are you full?" Mrs. Gloria asked with a smile.

Emmy remained silent, unwilling to respond. Her gaze was empty, as if trying to forget what had just happened.

Mrs. Gloria let out a quiet chuckle and caressed her cheek. "Now it's time to get to work. Help Mama with the morning routine, honey. We still have a lot to do today."

Without waiting for an answer, Mrs. Gloria set Emmy down from her lap and led her out of the room, ready to start the day as usual.

***

That morning, after finishing her nursing session on Mrs. Gloria's lap, Emmy followed the woman out of the bedroom. Though her hands were still cuffed, she was still made to continue sucking on the pacifier placed in her mouth. As usual, Mrs. Gloria had her help with the household chores, even with her limited movement.

Mrs. Gloria never allowed Emmy even the slightest chance to be out of her sight. Since morning, wherever Mrs. Gloria went in the house, Emmy had to follow right behind her, like a shadow that must not be separated. Even when moving just from the living room to the kitchen, Mrs. Gloria would turn to make sure Emmy was nearby.

While cleaning the house, they were always in the same room. If Mrs. Gloria was mopping the floor, Emmy would be dusting the furniture in that same room. If Mrs. Gloria was ironing clothes, Emmy would sit beside her, folding the freshly ironed laundry one by one. Not once was Emmy left alone or in a different room, even for a moment.

Mrs. Gloria's eyes were always sharply watching, making sure every movement Emmy made was to her satisfaction. If Emmy looked too slow, too quiet, or even merely glanced toward a window, Mrs. Gloria would stop what she was doing and scold her in a low but firm voice, "Don't you dare try to wander off, honey!"

Mrs. Gloria stood tall at the ironing board, smoothing out wrinkles in the fabric with calm, precise movements. On the floor, Emmy sat cross-legged, silently folding the clothes that had just been ironed, as usual.

Suddenly, a sharp ringtone pierced the silence.

Tringg... Tringg...

Mrs. Gloria paused her movement. She let out a quiet sigh before pulling a phone from the pocket of her apron.

"Oh, Mrs. Pamela," she murmured before swiping the green icon and answering the call.

"GLORIA!!!" Mrs. Pamela's voice rang out loudly, fast, and full of emotion.

Mrs. Gloria instinctively pulled the phone slightly away from her ear at the shrill volume.

"I'm SO done with today! My flight is delayed! Not by two hours, not three, BUT UNTIL TOMORROW MORNING! What the hell?!" Mrs. Pamela snapped without preamble.

Mrs. Gloria took a moment to calm herself before responding. "I'm sorry to hear that, Ma'am. Shall I...."

"Don't you 'sorry' me! I'm stranded at the airport like some idiot! They said there's a technical issue and all night flights are canceled. Now I have to sleep at a hotel near the terminal, A CHEAP ONE, TOO! I HATE this!" Mrs. Pamela cut her off.

Emmy, who was still folding clothes nearby, could hear the shouting even from a distance. She lowered her head and held her breath. Her face tensed up, but deep inside, a sense of relief began to bloom. It meant the terrifying voice's owner wouldn't be coming home tonight.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Gloria remained calm. "I'll make sure the house stays clean and everything's ready by the time you return tomorrow morning," she replied softly, trying to ease the still burning anger in Mrs. Pamela's voice.

"You'd better! If anything's out of place, if Emmy so much as tries anything, I won't hesitate to DOUBLE her punishment! Don't let her out of your sight!" The call ended abruptly, leaving a tense silence hanging in the room.

"Yes, Ma'am," Mrs. Gloria replied, though the call had already been disconnected.

Silence once again enveloped the space, but this time it felt slightly different.

Mrs. Gloria tucked the phone back into her pocket and resumed her work.

Emmy, who had been quietly listening the entire time, lowered her face to hide the growing expression of relief. Her breathing was slow, but a little lighter now. At least tonight, she wouldn't have to face Mrs. Pamela.

One more night to breathe a little easier.

***

Once the tub had filled with warm water and soap bubbles, Mrs. Gloria began to undress herself, one piece of clothing at a time, placing them in the basket near the door. Then, without saying much, she approached Emmy and began helping her out of her clothes and diaper. Emmy's outfit had buttons on both shoulders, allowing Mrs. Gloria to remove it without unlocking the cuffs around her wrists. She did it calmly, as if it were just another part of the daily routine.

When she was done, Mrs. Gloria stepped into the bathtub first, slowly submerging herself until the water reached her shoulders. The warm water greeted her, releasing a gentle steam that began to fill the room.

"Come here, honey!" She said softly, motioning with her hand.

Emmy kept her head down, still sucking her pacifier, but she obeyed. Without a word, she stepped into the tub, slowly lowering herself into the water on the opposite side of Mrs. Gloria.

The two of them now sat unclothed in the same bathtub. Their bodies were drastically different. Mrs. Gloria had dark skin and a large, full figure, while Emmy's skin was pale and her body thin and small. The physical contrast was striking, making Mrs. Gloria appear even bigger and more dominant in the tub, while Emmy looked sunken and dwarfed by her presence.

***

After bathing Emmy and gently drying the young girl's body, still sucking on her pacifier, with a soft towel, Mrs. Gloria, her own body wrapped in a towel, carried Emmy out of the bathroom and brought her back to the bedroom.

Mrs. Gloria dressed her again in baby clothes, complete with a disposable diaper and a jumpsuit adorned with cute animal prints. Emmy remained silent and resigned, her eyes blankly staring at the ceiling, as if she had lost all will to resist.

Once Emmy was fully dressed, with the pacifier still in her mouth, Mrs. Gloria removed the towel from her own body. She took a fresh outfit from the wardrobe and dressed neatly, a sign that she was preparing to leave the house, most likely to go shopping. Maybe for daily necessities, or to buy additional baby supplies.

But before she left the room, Mrs. Gloria retrieved something from the small drawer beside the bed, an extra metal chain. Calmly, she bent down and wrapped the cold chain directly around Emmy's neck, pulling it slightly before locking it tightly, as though securing a wild animal that needed to be tamed. The other end of the chain was fastened firmly to the gap in the heavy iron headboard. The clicking sound of the lock echoed through the quiet room, like a gavel sealing Emmy's bitter reality.

Now, the girl could only move within a short radius around the bed. There was no more chance to sneak toward the door, let alone escape.

To pass the time and keep Emmy calm, Mrs. Gloria turned on a small television mounted on the wall. She played a video, it was a recording of mothers breastfeeding their babies, complete with soft music and the sweet cooing sounds of infants.

It wasn't a random choice. Mrs. Gloria played that kind of video repeatedly as part of Emmy's "education." She wanted to reprogram the girl's mind, indoctrinate her, deeply instill the belief that Emmy was not a normal teenager, but a baby, someone who needed care, pampering, and complete dependence on her mother.

Once everything was secure and in order, Mrs. Gloria stood in the doorway. She looked at Emmy for a moment, her eyes full of satisfaction, like a mother who had just soothed her child. She smiled softly and said in a gentle voice, "Mama's going out, honey. Watch quietly, okay? Mama will be back before lunchtime."

Then, the bedroom door slowly closed. Emmy was left alone in the quiet room, with only the soft sound of the television, and the cold chain that bound her neck to the bed, for company.

***

Late morning approached, the sky was clear, but the wind still bit cold against the skin. Dry leaves scattered along the narrow path leading to a small cemetery on the edge of town. The graveyard was quiet, only the sound of birds and the breeze accompanied the steps of a large framed woman walking slowly while holding a bundle of fresh flowers, Mrs. Gloria.

Her fingers carefully held white lilies and pink roses, as if they were precious. Her eyes stared straight ahead, her steps firm, heading toward one of the quietest corners of the cemetery, where only a few small tombstones stood, some already overtaken by wild grass.

She stopped in front of a small grave, its headstone worn and weathered.

Mrs. Gloria slowly knelt down, her large body pressing against the damp, dewy grass. She placed the flowers neatly on the ground, arranging them carefully, then gently touched the headstone as though stroking a baby's cheek.

"It's a beautiful morning, Honey." she whispered softly, her voice laced with a strange mixture of longing, loss, and a peculiar peace.

She sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at the tombstone without saying a word. The wind blew through her short hair, and sunlight brushed her damp cheeks. But slowly, a smile appeared, not one of sadness, but a calm, contented smile.

"Sorry Mama hasn't visited in a while," she murmured. "But now, Mama's not alone anymore."

She caressed the flowers, then looked up at the peaceful blue sky.

"Mama has a new baby at home now. She's sweet... gentle... and very obedient. Her name is Emmy. Even though she has an adult body, Mama still made her into a little baby, just like you. I'm sure you wouldn't mind."

Mrs. Gloria chuckled softly, a brief, cold laugh. The smile on her face grew like a wild plant, beautiful from afar, but thorny up close.

"She's not going anywhere, Honey. Mama's keeping her safe. Not like before, when Mama still had you. This time, no one's going to take her away from me."

With a long, deep breath, Mrs. Gloria rose to her feet, brushing the dirt from her knees. She took one last look at the grave before turning away.

Her steps slowly left the graveyard, passing by larger, grander tombstones. The smile never left her face. Today, she felt at peace, because to Mrs. Gloria, that grave was no longer lonely.

***

While Mrs. Gloria was away, the house remained silent, with only the ticking of the clock and the soft hum of the television filling the air.

Inside the windowless room, Emmy sat on a narrow bed covered with baby-themed cartoon sheets. Her body appeared weak and stiff. Her hands were cuffed in front of her, linked by a half-meter chain that restricted her movement. Her feet were bound in the same way, with shackles connected by a chain no longer than that, allowing her only to sit or slowly slide toward the edge of the bed.

A metal collar was fastened around her neck, secured by a short chain to the iron bars of the headboard. The chain prevented her from leaving the bed, even standing was nearly impossible.