The Filthy Chore

Setting:

The barnyard of Farmer Johnson's farm, a few hours after feeding time. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the ground. The air is heavy with the stench of manure and decay. Jamal stands alone near the oxen pen, a look of resignation on his face.

Characters:

Jamal Smith: The 18-year-old black boy, stripped of dignity and **** into degrading tasks.

Farmer Johnson: The middle-aged owner of the farm, distant and indifferent to Jamal's suffering.

Nathan: The sadistic overseer, reveling in Jamal's torment.

James: Nathan's accomplice, eager to inflict further humiliation.

Scene:

The camera opens to Jamal standing in the barnyard, his hands tied behind his back and a heavy stone hanging from his chastity cage. He watches as the oxen move about in their pen, their large forms casting imposing shadows in the fading light.

Nathan: (approaching) Time for your next task, Jamal.

Jamal looks up, his eyes dull with resignation. He knows better than to protest.

Jamal: (softly) Yes, Master Nathan.

Nathan gestures towards the pen, where a large pile of excrement has accumulated. Jamal's stomach churns at the sight.

Nathan: (smirking) You see that, Jamal? Those oxen need their pen cleaned, and you're just the boy for the job.

Jamal's heart sinks as he realizes what Nathan means. He glances at the pile of excrement, his face contorting with disgust.

Jamal: (pleading) Please, Master Nathan, have mercy. I can't... I can't do this.

Nathan: (coldly) You'll do as you're told, Jamal. Or would you prefer another taste of the trough?

With a heavy heart, Jamal nods silently, steeling himself for the task ahead. Nathan and James approach, untying his hands and pushing him towards the pen.

James: (taunting) Better get to work, Jamal. We wouldn't want Farmer Johnson to think you're slacking off, would we?

Jamal braces himself as he enters the pen, the stench of the excrement overwhelming. He takes a deep breath and begins to scoop up the waste with his bare hands, his face twisted in revulsion.

Nathan: (watching with amusement) That's it, Jamal. Get in there nice and deep. Make sure you don't miss a spot.

Jamal's hands tremble as he works, the filth clinging to his skin and embedding itself beneath his fingernails. His stomach churns with each scoop, but he forces himself to continue, knowing the consequences of disobedience.

Farmer Johnson: (approaching) What's going on here?

The group turns to see Farmer Johnson standing in the barnyard, his expression unreadable.

Nathan: (smirking) Just making sure Jamal earns his keep, Father. He's cleaning up after the oxen, just like you asked.

Farmer Johnson nods in approval before turning to leave, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

Farmer Johnson: Carry on.