The days had become nearly indistinguishable from one another, and that was the point. The household turned with the patient rhythm of seasons, yet every cycle folded into itself, seamless and self-contained. Sunlight moved across the windows of the breeding room in predictable arcs, the same soft gold that had greeted Emma on the morning of her first collaring now warmed the same surfaces, the same faint scent of polished wood and citrus cleaner drifting from the kitchens downstairs. Nothing demanded her attention. Nothing required her to remember what came before. The system had achieved its final, quiet efficiency: the eternal collar locked at all times, speech restriction active in every breath she drew, the chastity belt secure over the heavy plug that stretched her with a constant, unyielding pressure. Beneath the ownership tattoo, the pregnancy advanced in slow, inexorable waves, each new inch of growth settling deeper into the acceptance she had learned to wear like a second s
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