The Training of Dia Zerva, Day Three

The meat room stays cold and wet. Stinks too. Old blood and rot hang in the air like the place still remembers every animal that died here. We drag her down because that’s where she needs to break. She’s stubborn. We grab her in the hall, two on one, haul her inside, hood her, rope her, work her cunt and tits until she stops fighting. When she’s limp we string her up on the meat hook and leave her swinging. Later we come back with the hose. Cold water. We cut the ropes, drop her to the floor, and shove cock down her throat while she’s still dripping. She takes it like she was made for it.