“Come with me,” the ghost said. Marcia’s eyes widened.
“What? No!” she immediately shouted. The ghost frowned, visibly displeased.
“I thought you were a good girl,” the ghost said in a dangerous voice. Marcia felt a sudden urge to be obedient wash over her. She fought the urge.
“I’m not your baby!” Marcia insisted. The ghost’s scowl deepened.
“Stop fussing, Christine!” the ghost said in a booming voice. A ghostly pacifier suddenly appeared in her hand. She popped it into Marcia’s mouth. Marcia instinctively suckled on it. With each suck, she could feel her fighting spirit and protest fading, replaced by a desire to be a good girl for the ghost.
“Thowwy mama,” Marcia said around the pacifier. The ghost smiled.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Changing a diry diapy can make even the most well-behaved little girl act a bit naughty,” the ghost cooed. She kissed Marcia’s forehead, making her giggle. Marcia’s stomach suddenly rumbled. “Aw, is my baby hungry?”
“Yeth, mama,” Marcia said.
“Good thing mama still can make tasty milk for her baby,” the ghost said. She unbuttoned her shirt and lifted Marcia one of her exposed breasts. Marcia promptly latched onto the nipple in front of her and began to drink hungrily. As the breastmilk filled her stomach, Marcia began to drift more towards toddlerhood. By the time she was full, she was convinced that the ghost was in fact her mother.
“All done?” Marcia’s mama asked. Marcia let go and nodded. Her mama buttoned up her shirt again. “Good. Then let’s go.” Marcia’s mama floated through the wall of the nursery. Full of milk, wearing a clean diaper, and completely content, Marcia didn’t pay attention to where they were going.
Eventually, they arrived at…