Beneath the scorching midday sun, a legion of resilient women toiled barefoot in the expansive wheat fields. The harvest season ushered in an unforgiving intensity, casting an oppressive weight upon the shoulders of these unfortunate slave laborers.
Draped in threadbare sackcloth, the young women tied up their worn garments with strands of linen, fashioning makeshift uniforms for the grueling task at hand. With an air of determination, these studious maidens wielded their sickles with merciless precision, slashing through golden wheat clusters and skillfully bundling them together.
Amidst the relentless rhythm of the harvest, the younger women took on the responsibility of assembling cereal crop stems into sheaves, crafting bundles for their fellow workers to transport. The once-glorious golden wheatfield now lay transformed, its beauty marred by the unsightly remnants of the semi-harvested landscape.
Sor, a resilient figure among the slave women, momentarily straightened her fatigued form. Drawing a deep breath, she wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. Her worn-out rags clung to her body, saturated with the unpleasant residue of sweat. Her hair, a disheveled mess, bore the marks of mud and dirt. Despite the toll exacted by the farm labor, Sor's hazel eyes emitted a profound and enduring radiance.
With faltering steps, Sor advanced a few paces before succumbing to exhaustion, collapsing to her knees. Amidst this momentary respite, a voice pierced through the labor-laden air—a 6-7-year-old boy, Kian, sprinting towards her with unbridled enthusiasm.
"Sor! Sor! Hey! Here!" The boy's voice resonated with an infectious zeal, mirrored in the striking similarity between his eyes and face to Sor's. Despite the tattered and dusty attire, Kian possessed a vibrancy and healthiness, thanks to his caring mother.
"Hey, be careful, Kian! Don’t run in the field! Take it easy! Careful not to fall!" Sor admonished, her concern evident in her voice.
The boy tempered his pace slightly, yet continued his approach. Around them, the other laboring women paused for a moment, offering kind gestures to the mischievous lad. Each step of Kian's journey elicited laughter, as the other girls, momentarily diverted from their toil, waved and greeted the lively child.
"Hey! Go back to work already! We have to finish this before sundown!" Sor's command carried a subtle yet commanding undertone, a reminder of the pressing urgency that hung in the air.
"Hello, Sor! I’m here!?” The boy exclaimed, flinging himself into the embrace of the weary young woman. Sor attempted to disentangle his hands from his skinny legs, but the boy clung steadfastly.
“I was playing up at the shed as you asked, but I got bored, so I came here to see you! I missed you, Mom!” the kid continued, his words bubbling forth with youthful exuberance.
“How many times have I told you not to call me mom in front of everyone?” Sor reproached him with a stern tone.
“Didn’t I tell you not to disturb me while I'm working as well, Kian? If the old foreman finds out, he’ll punish everyone, including me. Is that what you want?" She continued her scolding, a mixture of concern and frustration etched on her face.
Sor tenderly stroked the boy’s hair and gently separated him from herself, adopting an attitude of returning to the demanding harvest. "Do not worry! Relax! The foreman is on the other side of the farm arguing with some workers! He won’t come here anytime soon!" Kian reassured her in a playful and sly tone.
Suddenly, a shadow of concern crossed Sor's face. "What did you do?"
"Nothing! I did nothing wrong! I promise!" The boy took a step back, shame coloring his features.
"Come on! Spit it out! I don’t have all day!” Sor's impatience became palpable as she pressed Kian for an explanation.
With a mischievous chuckle, little Kian fumbled into the pocket clumsily sewn onto his clothes, producing a piece of dry biscuit. "Look here! When the foreman wasn't paying attention, this fell out of his breakfast bundle, so I took it!"
"Oh! My God, did you steal this?" Sor's voice trembled with a mix of anger and fear.
"No! Of course not! It fell on the ground! It was dirty and dusty too! I had to wipe it clean and blow on it to make it edible! I ate a piece of it, and it was very tasty! Then I brought the rest for you!"
Sor's mouth watered as she looked at the dark, scratched piece of biscuit. Despite her attempts to maintain a facade of maturity, she couldn't entirely stifle her longing for a delicacy she had never experienced. At the same time, she resisted confessing her weakness in front of the playful boy, determined to appear resolute.
"I don’t want this! Go and put it back where you found it! Hurry up before it's too late!" Sor ordered forcefully, a blend of yearning and defiance in her eyes.
"You! Come here this instant!"
Sor lifted her gaze to witness the foreman approaching, his voice resonating with anger as he berated a young woman carrying her baby while toiling in the fields. The foreman, a middle-aged, hunched figure, bore the responsibility of supervising slave workers, ensuring they remained diligent and completed their harvest tasks without slacking off.
The masters in the financially strained village could only afford the services of a single person for the crucial task at hand. The foreman had to oversee the toiling slaves, diligently reporting their progress to both the field owner and the slave masters. As dusk settled, his duty extended to escorting the exhausted laborers to their sheds nestled in the forest before returning home and securing the doors for the night.
“Put it in your mouth immediately! And swallow it!" Sor urgently hissed into the boy's ear, her voice laden with terror, as she spotted the wrathful foreman approaching. She quickly released Kian's hands and hastened toward the brewing altercation, sensing an ominous undercurrent.
"It was your doing, wasn't it?!" the foreman kept accusing the woman with child, his voice a mixture of anger and suspicion.
"No! I swear! It wasn’t me! I was working here, master! I didn’t eat your food! I swear it wasn’t me!" The poor woman pleaded with desperation.
Sor intervened, her approach marked by a submissive and humble tone. "What happened, master?"
"Don't interfere, girl! This has nothing to do with you! Go back to your work!” the foreman bellowed.
"But, master! I was paying attention to Mino! She has been working hard from dawn! Mino is a hard-working girl, I can vouch for her,” Sor interjected, maintaining a demeanor of compliance.
The foreman, though softened a little by Sor's words, erupted in rage, his whip hitting his palm with a sharp crack. "Someone has sneaked into my tent and taken my breakfast! My breakfast biscuit is gone!" The accusation hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the already burdened atmosphere in the wheat fields.
Sor's eyes flashed with sudden concern, but she remained composed. It turned out that the ominous feeling she experienced moments ago was spot on. With a slow and stealthy movement, she glanced at little Kian, who was obliviously munching away the incriminating evidence as she had instructed.
The young woman realized that any words she uttered at this critical moment would likely fall on deaf ears. The stern foreman seemed impervious to any explanations, and the fear lingered that he would unleash harsh punishment if he discovered the truth about the pilfered pastry. Sor had no intention of allowing harm to befall her innocent child, and her maternal instinct propelled her into action.
With determination coursing through her, Sor abruptly sprinted towards the foreman, who was twirling the whip menacingly. The urgency to shield Kian from the impending consequences fueled her resolve, and she braced herself for the impending confrontation.
Then, wearing a lewd and sarcastic smile, she touched his bulging and nauseating stomach with the tip of her fingers and continued her seductive touch up to his chin.
"Oh, master! What do you need breakfast for?! Don't you feel sorry for this poor soul? What if she has stolen some measly biscuits!? You are a forgiving man to the core! Please pardon the pitiful wretch and I promise I’ll make it up to you” Sor said flirtatiously.
"I didn't steal the biscuit! I swear..." The young woman's desperate words hung in the air, left unfinished as Sor embarked on her daring plan to divert the foreman's attention. "How about I meet you in your tent before we go back to the forest, master?"
Sor, with a flirtatious demeanor, initiated her bold attempt to sway the fat foreman. Her subtle touches and playful attitude aimed to captivate his attention, drawing his focus away from the impending accusation. The foreman, momentarily charmed by Sor's tactics, turned toward the young woman who stood with a terrified expression, caught in the unfolding spectacle. The air hung heavy with anticipation as Sor skillfully manipulated the situation, determined to shield Kian from the potential repercussions.
“How about she joins the fun?” The foreman teased with cruel mischief.
A sly smile made utterly out of desperation appeared on Sor’s lips: "Let her be! I promise she has no idea how to satisfy a vigorous old-timer like you master! But I promise! I’ll make it worth your while!”
The foreman put his hand under Sor's chin and smirked, "Ah! You know my weak spot, don’t you girl?”
Then he grabbed her lean hips with both hands and gave a firm squeeze on them both: "Okay! You asked for it!"
The foreman, seemingly unconcerned about the incident, pivoted toward the other slave workers who had nearly halted their tasks, their attention fixed on the unfolding scene.
“Hey! What are you looking at, you wretched beasts? Quit slacking off! Go back to work at once! I better not see anybody waiting around, or I'll make you pay for it!” The foreman's contemptuous tone reverberated across the field as he violently whipped the ground, imposing a fearsome authority.
The laborers, chastened by the foreman's outburst, resumed their work, hastening to harvest the crops. Following the renewed activity, Mino, the young woman now out of danger, approached Sor with anxiety echoing on her face. "I'm sorry, Sor! I'm truly sorry!"
Sor enveloped little Kian with her hands, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Go back to the forest! Stay in the shed and wait for my return!"
"Did something happen? Why was he shouting? Was it because…" Kian attempted to inquire, but Sor swiftly cut him off. "Go now!" She urged him away, shielding him from the unsettling aftermath of the foreman's attention.
The foreman, who had not yet left, turned to the trembling woman standing alone in the middle of the golden wheat field, pointed at her with a whip in his sturdy grip, and said in a scary, lustful, and wicked tone: "I’ll take care of you, baby! I’ll bring my whip too!”
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