Interracial and/or Authoritarian
This story is fiction and not based on any real events or people. Everyone portrayed is over eighteen. You must be at least eighteen to read this story. Never do this stuff in real life. I wrote this for a biracial reader with fantasies about slavery who is into raceplay. I was a little uncomfortable writing it so I apologise if it isn't terribly good. He said there were only a few raceplay stories out there. I received a lot of requests to keep writing this story after the first chapter, almost all from biracial men. This is my attempt at that. I tried adding stuff that the readers said turned them on. If I get feedback and ideas, I'll try and keep going.
Slavery, rascism, and prejudice in real life is never okay. Also, don't self hate. Black, white, green, love yourself.
And if you enjoy nifty, donate.
Marcus was kicked awake before dawn by Charlie Ray, one of the farm hands. He was the man who smelled of tobacco and had made him piss himself during the whipping. Master Ray snapped a collar on his neck and kept real tight hold of his leash.
The next five hours were consumed by what would become his morning routine. He retrieved eggs, fed the dogs and other animals, mucked the stalls, milked cows, and served the master breakfast.
He didn't get any.
Marcus didn't realize how spoiled he had been until that first day. He barely had a chance to catch his breath between tasks. By ten, when the morning chores were done, he was the most exhausted he'd ever been in his life.
And it was only the start.
Charlie Ray handed his leash over to Jerry Lee after the morning chores. Jerry Lee was the youngest of the hands and looked about thirty. Together, they butchered and cooked a meal fit for redneck kings.
Marcus
I was exhausted as I served the men lunch, but I had learned a lot. I had never done chores or cooked before and it was almost fun to see the animals and cook.
After I gave them their drinks and food, Master Otis pointed to the floor at his feet. I knelt there and watched, stomach rumbling, as the men ate their fried chicken, corn, and mashed potatoes. I barely noticed how naked I was, in nothing but my white briefs, just from sheer hunger and distraction. It was starting to feel normal.
I did notice all the men kept some version of the whips and canes used on me on their belt loops or had them on the table.
When they finished eating, the master scraped his men's leavings into his plate and sat it on the floor in front of me and nodded.
The men left.
Like an animal, I chewed the corn on the cob trying to get what was left from it. I licked the mashed potatoes from the plate and even sucked the chicken bones for what meat I could get from them.
Master Otis laughed and watched.
Otis
The little nigger sure seemed to be learning his place. He didn't look half so uppity as when he got to the ranch. His hair was a mess. His back was covered in welts and marks. That leash and collar was starting to look real natural on the boy.
Even the way he tore into the table scraps showed he was learning his place. A nigger boy got a white man's leavings and should be happy about it.
Otis liked being master.
He ran his whip over the boy's back as the boy ate. The boy would shiver, but keep eating. Otis wanted to give him a few lashes for fun, but you couldn't train a nigger right if you punished it for doing good.
Watching the boy's mouth gave him an idea.
He grabbed the back of the boy's head and lifted him up by the hair. The light little nigger winced, but didn't whine or complain. He ran his hand on the boy's tight and smooth body. He stopped at the boy's nipples and twisted them both enough to get an involuntary squeal.
He asked the boy, "Whose titties are these, boy?"
The kid seemed confused for a moment.
Then he said, hesitating, "Your titties, master."
Otis nodded.
Then Otis asked, "Why are those my titties?"
The boy didn't hesitate this time.
He said, "Because I ain't human. I'm a nigger and your property, Master."
Otis smiled. The little shit really was learning his place.
Otis dropped his overalls and stood there naked. His belly covered most of his dick, but he felt like a god over this tiny nigger.
He told the boy, "Kiss your master's feet, boy."
And Marcus did. The little shit knelt down before him, lowered himself to the ground, and put his mouth on his filthy feet.
Otis said, "Suck and tongue them clean, nigger."
Physically, it didn't feel that good to Otis. He figured toes and shit must not be sensitive like a cock or nutsack. But seeing this light skinned bucks sucking the scum off his feet got him hard anyway.
After about five minutes of it, he lifted the boy up on the table and placed him on his back.
Then he dragged the boy's body until his head was just hanging off the table.
His dick was rock hard by now.
He reached into the boy's underwear and wrapped his hand around the boy's balls.
He said:
I'm gonna treat that throat like pussy, boy. You do a good job, I might let you have more than table scraps tonight. You do a bad job, you gonna be lashed back to that tree for another lesson. I feel teeth and I squeeze these balls until you do better. You understand?
The boy whispered, "Yes, master."
Otis' cock oozed a little precum at that.
He growled, "Then open that nigger throat."
The boy spread his mouth wide.
And goddamn it felt good.
Otis wasted no time. He buried his dick to the nutsack on the first thrust. The kid convulsed and gagged a little, but took it.
By the second thrust, he felt his dick being massaged by the boy's choking and gagging.
The rest was pure heaven.
He had to squeeze the boy's nuts once when he felt teeth, but other than that it was as good or better than pussy.
The boy's face became a mess. He had to pull out once when the kid threw up, but after he emptied his throat out he laid right back down for another round.
Otis spent thirty minutes training that teenage nigger throat to be his dick ditch.
His load pumped right into the boy's belly.
He didn't pull it right out after he nutted. He liked the feeling as it softened in the boy.
He also needed to piss. Cumming always did that to him.
He let go of his bladder right in the boy's mouth. What the boy didn't swallow, he knelt and licked up from the floor.
Marcus
I didn't have a minute to recover before Master Otis yelled for Charlie Ray.
Charlie grabbed my leash the second he walked in and jerked me off my knees.
I'd spend the next seven hours clearing the back field.