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They let her cook dinner: Steak and corn. Someone mounted her as she was kneeling turning the corn. So she had to finish cooking with some guy humping her like a dog. She was not offered any food. She asked if they had coffee, would they like some, and made a caldron of it to Abe's (the not too bright bald guy) to Abe's instructions. But instead of the powdered milk they had, one of them demanded "fresh squeezed". Then they all wanted fresh squeezed, so she crawled around and let them milk her like a cow into their mugs. They passed the miner's lantern around so they could watch. How degrading!
As they drank, she tried to make herself useful. She removed the last unwanted cob of corn from the fire to the edge of the grill, half-hoping that they might let her have it. Then she collected the dishes, stacking them neatly, with the collected mound of scraps on top. "That's your supper, cunt." Greg cackled, terribly amused by his own great wit. Well, she was too hungry to refuse it, so she knelt on the cool mud (her ass had indeed gotten sunburnt) and gnawed her scraps. She timidly asked if she might have the last cob of corn. Ferrari made her butter it and told her to fuck herself with it. It was still quite hot, but remembering her lesson from earlier, she at least touched it to her pussy. No, too hot. She let out a yelp, and told them it was too hot.