My master had me and another one of his slaves over for an early Thanksgiving dinner. We thought we were going to be having dinner with him. He had other plans. There were other men there from his office. He was having an early holiday party/Thanksgiving dinner. We were there as slaves in every sense of the word. After I served everyone dinner, I had to be the centerpiece on the table. At first I thought this was not any big deal. Lay there naked and look pretty. I was there for the men to use. Some fucked me while the others ate. I was both an appetizer and desert to some of his guests. To others I was a toilet. They would piss in my mouth and then put the ball gag back in my mouth so I could not spit out the piss. Some used me as a garbage disposal. Cleaning their plates off in my mouth, forcing me to eat what they didn’t want. A few even shoved turkey bones up my cunt.
My fellow slave suffered the same humiliation at the other table. After dinner, the men were more drunk and twisted. One guy said we were dirty birds and should be stuffed accordingly. They stuffed us first with cocks. Then with fists. A few stuffed us with kitchen cutlery. Master, however, stuffed us with fire pokers. Hot ones too. It felt like the inside of my pussy was being branded. In fact, Master said now everyone would know I belonged to him. He branded my worthless cervix. The pain was excruciating. Master is normally not this dominate, but I think he was putting on a show for his friends. Trying to look like a total bad ass.
My fellow slave got branded up her worthless ass. She called him out. I know better than to talk back to a Master. I had to pay for her disobedience. We got the crap beat out us. All the guys got to throw a punch to our faces and bellies. We were covered in bruises and blood. We were slumped on the floor when they started pissing on us too. I was only half lucid, but I remember what came next. Master had a few guys drag us to the back yard, naked in the cold. He threw us together in a coffin and buried us in the back yard like a little boy buries a jar of pennies. We were together, scared, cold, in pain, in that coffin for a day before Master dug us up. I was grateful to be alive. My fellow slave was not so lucky. I wanted to be sad, but she was weak. She did not know how to be a good slave. If you are my master, I promise I will never talk back. You can do whatever you want to me and I will never complain. Good slaves are meant to be abused not heard.