*A day in the life of a Field slave* - A MUST HAVE TO READ, AN ENTICING READ

I would like to congratulate Rivel Baxton - who attended a class on slave types, the homework being to write up a diary of the day in her chosen slave type, she chose a field slave - so please take time to read below her efforts, its a wonderful bright, easy and descriptive read, full of colour and attention to detail - well done Rivel ----

*A day in the life of a field slave*

Niah - A day on the life of a Field Girl
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Leaving the warmth of her little slave bed, Niah steps out into the cold break of dawn, her well-formed body wrapped in a thin, patched working tunic. Her bare feet padding over the dusty path as she makes her way to the little farm near the docks, opening the barn to gather in the eggs of the vulos, as she does it every morning, before even the sun rises.
A light smile trembles upon her full lips as she sees the tiny basket is nearly full today and her Master will be much pleased. Quickly and with skilled hands she cleans the barn out, spreading evenly new hay out over the ground after it. Her skin sun kissed from the daily work outside, her calloused hands wiping some hay of her legs, her left leg ugly marked with a bruise on the calf......she knows it was her own fault trying to handle the mighty bosk bull on her own yesterday.....and the bruise will remind her of her foolishness each day, until the bruise is healed once again.
Niah makes her way back to the house of her Master, bringing the eggs in the kitchen, where some house slaves are already busy with preparing the breakfast for the Free. Silently she checks the herb boxes and notices she has to restock them, so she slips out of the house and moves back to the farm, her feet sinking in the dark humus as she enters the herb and vegetable garden. Slowly she floats to her knees and starts to pluck some herbs, her nostrils widens a little, when the different smells of the fresh herbages reach her snub nose.
Carefully she places all the herbs in a wicker basket and leaves it on a low stone wall, what devides the garden from the rest of the farm. The morning sun rising unhurriedly on the blue horizon, as she walks over to the tool shed, fetching a harke and an empty bucket. Once more back in the garden, she works on loossing up the ground with the harke and clears the area out from the nasty weeds.
A sweet soft voice approaches her "Greetings Niah" and she looks up seeing the pleasure slave of the household, to which she is chained, in front of her with her bewitching body and long mane.
Niah clears her throat and arches her back, her eyes peering over to the beautiful kajira. Nervously she runs her fingers through her hair, meeting the dark close-cropped strands with her flesh. A short "Greetings" hushs over her lips, before she returns back to her duties, knowing the pleasure slave is just here to collect the herbs, she already plucked.
She makes her way over to the area with the vegetable, also working here with the harke and her hands until the sun stands much higher on the sky, a sigh for Niah to drop her work here for the moment.
Quickly she cleans herself with some fresh water from the well, before she runs back to the village, plopping down at the back door of the house. Quietly she kneels together with some chain sisters, all lower slaves in the house, until the wooden door gets pushed open with a loud crack and the First Girl stands in front of them, pouring some slave gruel in the big hod. A choir of kajira voices echoes out..."Thank you, mistress", before Niah crawls over with the other slaves, crossing her wrists behind her back and leans forward to eat the slave gruel. In a hurry she swallows as fast as she can, the mixture out of raw fish and sa-tarna grain slides down her throat and she fills instantly how her somtach gets filled.
Niah runs the back of her hand over her mouth, cleaning it, before she smiles to her best friend, one of the house slaves and lays down with her in the grass, resting under a big tree while they talk and laugh together.
The big tree trunk protects the two slaves from the eyes of the Free. No Master or Mistress walks down here ever, as far as they know.
A bit time flys by, when suddenly the voice of the First Girl bursts through the air..."Slaves of the House of Karbos, back to work now. Break is over!"
Niah hugs her friend, knowing she won't see her for a few hours now, and makes her way back to the farm, seeing the other field slaves of the village already arrived.
Her first task awaits her already and she starts to groom the kaiilas carefully, cleaning the dirt out of their hooves, just to grease them with some bosk fat after it.
She wipes some sweat from her forehead and tends to the vulos, she opens the pen, steps inside and tosses grains on the ground, clicking her tongue until the little animals gathered around her feet, picking the grains up from the ground.
Then she waters the herb and vegetable garden, before she arranges the evening food for the bosk of the farm.
She nods quietly to herself, making sure she did attend all her daily duties and saunders back to the house, enjoying the view of the setting sun.
Back at the house she slips out of her working tunic and drops it to the ground, making her way to the wooden slave shower behind the house. Her dirty hands pulling on the chain above her, and cold clean water splashes all above her body. She reaches out for the piece of soap and washes her shape carefully, fingers running all over her, not to miss any spot.
The house slave, her friend walks over to her and hands her a clean towel. Niah dries herself quickly, knowing her favorite part of the day is close.
With lightly wet feet Niah and her friend pottering in the house, kneeling down close to the crackling fire by the lounge area.
Niah tilts her head and glances on the ground, hearing heavy steps on the stairs, coming closer and closer.
A warm hand gets placed on her shoved hair, as a bass sounds out..."Did you attend all your chores today, Niah?"
She looks up, her throat dry as every evening..."Yes, Master"...feeling the tip of his boots caressing her inner thigh teasingly. She knows, that she will not warm his furs tonight, she never does...from time to time she is taken by him, but that is rare...she is a field girl, that is her life and her duties are to attend to the farm.
"You may go and rest then, Niah" her Master says to her and niah does as ordered and glides into the slave room, crawling in her slave bed. She waits patiently, before the other slaves join her, after talking to the Master of the house.
They start to chat, to laugh, to giggle, yes even to cry.....but not much times runs by and Niah dozes off, being weary from her work. Her body tangled up with her friend...."Night sisters" she mumbles as her last words of this day.....