As the woman pushed open the door and walked though Brooklyn almost had to run to get through as it swung closed behind her. It was a large well appointed kitchen with all manner of implements and equipment hanging from racks or sitting on the counters that ran around it’s edge. In the middle was a large island with two sinks and lots of space to work. The woman put the tray down on the island and turned to Brooklyn and grabbed her by the hair.

“I don’t want any trouble from you little cunt”, she snarled.

“You are a thing and you will do what I say.”

Pulling her sharply by the hair she almost dragged her over to the far end of the kitchen to a large metal table and to the floor. Then attached the lead to a hook on it’s edge.

“If I see you touch the lead or move I will beat you and enjoy it.”

Giving her a light slap across the face she went back to cleaning the kitchen. Brooklyn looked around at her surroundings. She was attached to the large table at the end of the kitchen, it looked industrial and was on big heavy casters. It was long, long enough to lay down and stretch out on and had a pipe running down from the middle to a spout below the hook she was attached to. There was a shelf underneath that held or sorts of other steel objects. Large bowls, some buckets, and what looked like metal blocks. There was a bar running around the edge almost like a bumper.

As she was distracted, taking in the object she was next to, the woman came back over to her and dropped a bowl on the floor next to her.

“Eat it.”

Looking down she saw it was a metal bowl with porridge in it.

Looking up at her new tormentor she said, “But there’s no spoon”.

The woman’s hand darted out and slapped her across the cheek.

“You’re a little bitch and little bitches don’t get spoons. Now stick your face in the bowl and eat like the dog you are before I shove your face into it.”

Crying Brooklyn bunt over the bowl on all fours and holding it with her hands lowered her face into the bowl.

“I want to see it clean. I don’t want you dying of hunger in shipping.”

Turning around she went back to her kitchen duties and left the girl kneeling there naked on the cold floor, face buried in the bowl. It was bland. No sugar or jam, just plain porridge. But she didn’t care it was food and she licked the bowl clean.

When she had finished she sat back and waited to find out what was next. The woman seeing she was done walked over to the sink and soaked a kitchen rag. As she walked up to Brooklyn the terrified girl tried to move back bu the table stopped her escape.