Date: Fri, 10 Jul 2020 08:13:12 +0000
From: whipped@protonmail.com
Subject: The Southern Farmboy (authoritarian/interracial)

The following story is a work of fiction. Everyone in the story is over
eighteen and you must be over eighteen to read it.

Almost all of my stories have an intergenerational or interracial
component or both. They are written for people into raceplay and BDSM or
humiliation. If you aren't interested in that, stop reading now.

If you do enjoy this or other stories, consider donating to Nifty.

Never do stuff like this in real life.

Feedback is always appreciated, especially if you want a part two of a
story.


"The Southern Farmboy"

Raul Chavez was pissed off when he got assigned to travel to South
Carolina. He had to spend a week in a podunk redneck town negotiating a
land and mineral buy for one of the firm's clients.

His mood didn't improve when he got there. The only hotel in the town was
one of those falling apart motels. His room looked like it came from the
seventies, straight down to an avocado colored room phone.

There was no wifi in the town, either. His phone got reception, most of
the time, but even it went out and the internet was slow as fuck.

Raul wasn't use to that. He grew up middle class, but his law degree had
him quickly climbing to the top. At 35, he had two kids, a beautiful
house, a good looking wife, and three cars.

Now he was in a room that smelled like mold and had a leaky roof.

He knew he wasn't great looking, but his money usually got him better
treatment than he had had in this place too. He was 5'10 and about 205
pounds. He had brown hair and eyes and all his teeth and his suits
weren't handmade, but they were all high-end brands and tailored.

Girls liked his six inch cock well enough too.

That didn't seem to matter in Rexton.

People here with zero teeth treated him like trash.

People at the local diner, which was in a trailer, barely even talked to
him.

His brown skin didn't seem to go over well.

And after the first three days, he was horny and needing some bad.

His go-to app, however was empty of everyone.

Until Colton Finley logged on.

Colton sent him a message and they trash talked for a couple of days.
Colton lived on a farm a few miles out and assured him there was no
viable pussy for miles. He said all the good cunt left when the farms
shut down for winter maintenance. He had basically come during vacation
week.

A message late that third night shook his phone.

He pressed the button and the audio played.

A thick country accent asked, "You still around? I need my dick sucked."

Raul lay there in shock for a second, but the app showed he had played
the message. A minute later a nude pic of a teenage white boy with a soft
dick showed up. One of those in the mirror selfies. Two seconds later a
pic of a hard thick white dick was on his phone.

Raul wasn't gay. He wasn't bi. He wasn't homophobic, but he grew up
thinking only putos sucked dick. He had a wife and kids. He liked pussy.

But he kept staring at the pic.

Colton looked his age. He had short brown hair and a white boy tan. His
skin was a mix of white and red and pink, not Latino colored at all. He
had bright green eyes and a six pack.

And his cock was different. Raul wasn't circumcised. Colton had a thick
long dick and you could see the mushroom head on it. It was all pale and
pink with what looked like precum on the end. And his balls were huge and
all of his junk was shaved for some reason.

The only hair he could see on the kid was on his head and his happy
trail.

For some reason, he didn't tell the kid fuck you.

Raul pressed the button and sent back, "It's too late right now and I
have an early morning meeting."

Then he went to bed.

At noon the next day, his phone beeped with an app notification again.

It was text and just said, "Route 273 Farm Road 12, come by when you're
done."

And Raul felt sick to his stomach. He wasn't going to suck dick, much
less some white hillbilly. He wasn't going to meet this kid.

But at two, he climbed in his car and entered the address in his GPS.

It took him thirty minutes to get there. A sign by the freeway announced,
"Finley Farm". There was a gate with a chain around it he had to pull
open to drive in. The path was muddy from rain that morning, but his car
bounced the uneven path to the house.

He pulled up next to a beaten up truck. It had a giant sticker on the
back windshield that said "Rebel" and the house was flying a Confederate
flag.

He restarted the car and started to drive off when he saw Colton.

The kid wasn't wearing a shirt. It was hot outside and he was sweating.
The boy wiped his forehead off with a dirty rag he had hanging out of his
pocket as Raul watched. He was wearing jeans with dirt and mud all over
them and rubber boots with a worn brown leather belt. He had a rifle in
one hand.

He looked masculine and American and southern and yet still boyish.

He was at least six foot tall.

Raul got out of the car.

Colton smiled a huge grin when he saw him and gestured for him to come
over.

Then he said, "I hope you ain't in a hurry. I want to empty out this
ammo."

Then he lifted the gun, sighted, and pulled the trigger. Pop. One can
down. Pop. Two cans down. Pop. Three cans.

Then Colton let the rifle down and spoke:

I heard you was one of those fancy city spics, but I didn't expect you to
wear that out here. My grand-daddy says some of you forget your places,
but you learn it back real quick with a good teacher.

Raul was a little shocked. But instead of getting mad, he just asked a
question.

He said, "Can we go in the house? It's hot as fuck out here..."

Colton just laughed and said, "Wetbacks ain't allowed in the house. My
daddy would roll over in his grave. Go ahead and get on your knees, right
here."

Then he started undoing his belt. It opened up and then he undid his
pants. Right there, outside, he let his pants fall down around his boots.

His cock was just like the pictures. Six inches soft. Circumcised.

Raul said, "My suit.."

Colton shuffled over to him, the rubber boots and pants making walking
hard, and placed his hands on Raul's shoulders.

His cock and balls hung low.

Raul could smell the sweat on him.

He pressed down and Raul didn't fight.

His suit pants squished in the mud.

Colton grabbed the back of his head and said, "Lick those sweaty balls
clean and then suck the load out of them."


Colton

I watched this rich spic get on his knees and realized my grand daddy was
right. He said no matter how uppity a beaner got or how much money they
made, they all wanted a white man to put them in their place.

This guy had a wedding ring and kids and he was on his knees in the mud
licking the sweat off my nuts.

He was big enough he could probably put up a fight and maybe even take
me, just due to his weight.

I gripped the back of his head, tilted it up, and spit on his face.

Raul

His balls tasted like salt. I had never been this close to a man's junk
before and I guess I expected them to taste grosser. But they just felt
soft in my mouth.

Then he gripped my head and I felt a wad of warm spit land under my eye.

I started to get up and he pushed my shoulders back down and said, "I
didn't invite you here for a ball licking. Get your mouth over my johnson
and don't take it off until I flood your brown throat with my dicksnot."

The he fucked my throat.

I choked when he hit my gag reflex and he just belted me across the face
and said, "Cover your fucking teeth and don't stop until I nut."

It didn't take long.

He gripped my head and pounded it without mercy. My head was thrust
forward until my lips met his balls. I retched and I gagged and I choked
and once I even pulled off and threw up.

He just let me empty my stomach and then gripped my ears and buried
himself right back in my throat.

I was expecting him to pull out and jack off or something when he was
close.

But he didn't.

Colton

I was riding that beaner's face so hard he threw up. And then I felt it
coming.

My balls pulled up.

I gripped his head.

Then I groaned and my dick stiffened, then pulsed, then shot. Then again.
And again. And again.

I held his head down and said, "Swallow."

And I felt it. I felt his mouth around my dick swallowing my sperms.

Then I let him go.

Raul stood up the second the boy's hands let go of his shoulders. He
watched Colton pull up his pants and refasten his belt. He could taste
the boy's bitter slime all in his mouth.

The Colton from earlier was back. He was all smiles. He started walking
towards the truck, lowered the tailgate, and patted it as an invite.

Raul joined him.

Then Colton told him a story.

He said:

You're the first wetback I ever had, but my grand daddy has used a bunch
of y'all forever. That's how I knew you were a dick sucker. I caught him
out in the barn last year with one of the new hired hands. The kid was
bent over a haystack getting buttfucked real good. I could hear him
moaning and crying and grand daddy just fucking away. My grand daddy has
a dick like mine and he was tearing that hole up. I started watching him
after that and when we got a new hire they would all wind up in that barn
bent over or eating dick.

Colton stopped then and wiped his forehead off.

Then he continued:

One day, he caught me catching him. I thought he was going to thrash me.
He used to make me pick a switch and bend over for a whipping for just
about anything. But instead he just told me that all any spic really
wants is a white man to teach him his place and the best way to do that
is with your dick. Can't even pretend you're a man's equal once you
swallowed his juice or took him up your butt.

The liberal part of Raul wanted to interrupt. This kid was crazy. This
whole family was crazy. He looked at the barn and imagined all these poor
kids coming out to get work and winding up getting sodomized by some
racist old white man.

But then, Colton reached down to adjust his big white dick. It looked
like it was hardening again already.

And Colton said, "You ever been fucked?"