Little Miss Colquitt

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This is a raceplay and femdom story, which necessarily means the content will be objectionable to some people. The setting and people involved are entirely fictional, but this story will contain depictions of racism, slavery, hard-r slurs and BDSM. If you can’t handle that, please exit now.

All characters are above the age of consent (18).



Slavery was abolished, finally, in 1962.

Civil rights activists had worked tirelessly for the cause. For many years after the South’s victory in the Civil War, the debate had been stifled and settled — but at long last, the institution had been abolished.

The decision affected some regions and families more than others. In Alabama, for the prestigious Colquitt family, the results were nothing short of disastrous. Not only had they been reliant on slaves to keep their plantation business going, but as soon as the abolition bill had passed, most of their labourers high-tailed it out of there. This may not sound like an unusual situation, but many plantations and other businesses had managed to retain their workforce post-slavery by paying them a fair wage.

So why was the Colquitt plantation different? Well, one reason was the daughter of the master, Louisa – colloquially known to the slaves as Little Miss Colquitt. After the death of her mother at a young age, her father, the powerful landowner Samuel Colquitt, began to dote on her. There was nothing he wouldn’t buy her, nothing she wasn’t permitted to do. Nobody could defy her without incurring the wrath of Samuel — and she knew it. She became the princess of the plantation.

In practice, this meant she wielded an enormous amount of power over the slaves. She quickly began to show a sadistic streak. Where previously the slaves had been largely left to their own devices — in the fields, for example, they worked in gangs led by other slaves — now, they found the presumptuous daughter of the master meddling in their affairs. Sometimes she would demand a slave be beaten for looking at her. Other times she would arbitrarily hold food back from a gang, claiming that they hadn’t been working hard enough. Nobody dared to dispute this with master Samuel, knowing that he would instinctively take the side of his precious daughter.

As Little Miss Colquitt grew into a beautiful young woman, and as her father began to age, so her authority on the plantation increased. Now, she would watch and even administer the beatings herself. Samuel, suffering illnesses of the joints and eyes, would less and less frequently inspect the condition of the slaves or the work being done outside the house. The slaves began to hate his beloved daughter with a passion.

And so, when slavery was abolished, there was very little enthusiasm among them to remain at Colquitt’s plantation. Almost all of them had to be replaced with itinerant white workers at great expense. However, one slave did remain — and his refusal to leave baffled the rest of the workforce. Little Miss Colquitt’s personal manservant stubbornly remained by her side.

The other slaves didn’t know much about him. He seemed an odd fit for her; he was huge, hulking and dark-skinned, in sharp contrast to her petite, white, blonde frame. There were rumours that he was a mute; certainly, almost nobody had ever heard his voice. Equally, nobody knew where he came from, since he wouldn’t talk about it. Nobody even knew his real name. Perhaps Louisa did, but she wasn’t letting on.

She would instead address him in vile, degrading, insulting terms. Most of the time, they would be racial slurs too. Sometimes “big ugly monkey”, sometimes “nigger”, but her favourite name for him was “chimp”.

This name was most unfair of all. Although he was strong and musclebound, he was the meekest of all the slaves on Bostancı escort the plantation. He would timidly accept everything that was thrown at him, with not even the slightest hint of anger, and he was quiet as a mouse — in short, as far from a violent chimpanzee as a man could be.

The other slaves knew about this name for him. There were also rumours about how badly she treated him behind closed doors. Sometimes the welts on his black skin were visible for all to see. So it was a surprise to all when he refused to leave along with the rest of the slaves. Many wondered if he was being forced to stay somehow, or if the big mute even understood that he could now go and be free. After days of pleas from the soon-to-be-freedmen, he uttered the only words any of them would ever hear from him: “I want to stay with Little Miss.”

One of the older slaves, on the eve of his freedom, even had the nerve to address Louisa directly.

“Don’t you feel bad, treating him the way you do? Beating him, abusing him? Denying him his freedom? Have you no shame?”

Little Miss Colquitt did not anger or shout, as they all expected her to. Instead, with a slight smile, and a tone of haughty arrogance, she replied:

“I never treat my chimp in any way he does not wish to be treated.”

And so it was settled. The others left and started new lives out in the world. Louisa Colquitt’s personal slave remained in the Colquitt mansion, with the young mistress, away from the prying eyes of the world.

For what the others could not see was that every time she called him that vile epithet, every time she struck him — his enslaved cock twitched.


It’s true that Louisa did treat him in a beastly manner. He was her toy, her plaything, the outlet for all of her sadistic desires.

For starters, he was naked almost all of the time that the two of them were alone. She would not permit him to wear clothes even in the winter months. Before the abolition, this would mean he was naked for much of the daytime, before rejoining the others for food and sleep. But afterwards, with the rest of the workers now being paid labourers, the manservant slept on the floor of her room, and accompanied her near-constantly.

In the mornings, he would be expected to wake her up in the most pleasant manner possible. This would generally mean he would gently stroke her soft blonde hair, and perhaps softly sing to her. She was the only one for whom this service was available, of course — though he could not utter a word for anyone else, he could find a sweet melody within him for her.

Next, she would get up and he would dress her. He had become an expert at buttoning her dresses and plaiting her hair in just the way she liked it. If she wanted to look even prettier, she would sit at her dressing-table and apply her own makeup, but once again, her manser vant was essential — he would be her stool. He would crouch on all fours on the floor and she would lightly set her pale, light frame upon his dark, muscular back. This was generally the first time in the day that his penis began to stiffen, as he felt his white goddess shift her weight around on his back, paying him no mind as she applied her foundation in the mirror. He always tried to hide it from her and stay as still as a stone, lest she find him lacking in his duty as her furniture.

Next, she would brush her teeth. The manservant each morning would kneel in front of her as she brushed. He knew what she expected. With a slight nod of her head, Louisa would indicate that she wanted to spit out her toothpaste. Each day her personal slave would open up and she would lean over him, sweeping back her hair behind her ears, and spit the mixture of toothpaste and her saliva into his mouth. Then to gargle some water, three times exactly, and Anadolu Yakası Escort each time deposit it into her human waste receptacle, who swallowed it down gladly as his morning drink. This time, with him kneeling and exposed, there could be no hiding his swelling hardness, noted with a devious smile by the young mistress.

The itinerary from there would follow a different course each day, depending on Little Miss Colquitt’s mood. If she was hungry, she would eat her breakfast cereal, and generously chew and spit some into her slave’s mouth. If she wasn’t hungry, he would get no food that morning. From there, he was expected to do the day’s chores and assist her with whatever she required. He would cook her food, sweep and tidy her room and its environs, and make sure she would not have to lift a finger for her own needs. Every time she would call him or command him, with that derisory insult “chimp”, he would feel a jolt of desire go through his stiff cock.

His penis, by the way, was extraordinarily large. It had been one of the reasons why Louisa delighted to have him as her personal slave. It was a source of endless fascination to her. Many times she would sit at her table, listening to a record or writing a letter, and force him to stand in front of her, hands behind his back, his stiff rod facing directly towards her. She would begin to torment him, at first just gently bopping it to watch it bob up and down, and gradually moving to slapping and punching it, hard. The combined pain and pleasure caused him to let out the smallest of moans — a result she viewed as a great victory over such a taciturn man. One of her favourite tactics was to grip his hard, black shaft and dig her fingernails into its most sensitive places — especially his foreskin. When she would attack that special place and under it with her nails, he would twitch and grunt in pain, but never try to hide himself away from her probing fingers. He could never resist his Little Miss, after all.

When she was finished she would usually make him suck and lick the fingers that had so taunted his sensitive cock. But for a long time, that was the only occasion she would allow him to touch her in any kind of intimate way. For her, he was just a toy and a slave. She had the right to touch and violate him whenever and wherever she wanted, but he had no such right in return — and nor would he ask for it. For what he never said, but she could sense deep within him, was that he had a profound, submissive love for her, and could happily bear anything as long as it was for his owner.

And bearing pain was one of his more frequent tasks. When he did the slightest thing wrong, or indeed sometimes for no reason other than her whim, she would silently fetch the belt from the top of her wardrobe. Understanding her intention, he would stand in the centre of the room and allow her slender white hands to bind his large black ones behind his back. Though she was small, she was vicious, and could wield the belt or whip with finesse. These sessions would sometimes last for an hour or more: she would strike him over and over with the belt, across his strong arms, his rippling back, his sensitive thighs, until bruises and welts swelled up over his body. Occasionally, she would even draw blood, but like all else he endured it silently — and to her approval, his hard prick stayed upright through the whole ordeal.


Although he was generally not permitted to touch his goddess, that changed one day several months after abolition.

The two had settled into their everyday routine of servitude. Though slavery was formally abolished, the presence of Louisa’s manservant was an open secret. His nominal wages were paid into an account opened by the Colquitt family, but her never asked for the funds or tried to access Kadıköy Escort them. The other workers at the plantation, and Louisa’s family, understood their relationship as a quirk borne of long-standing habit — the manservant, after all, had been with the family for most of his life, and a personal servant of Louisa’s since her childhood.

The day had started as any other. The manservant had woken her gently, and served as her stool and basin in her morning routine. However, earlier than usual, the urge came upon her to beat him. She went over to the wardrobe and retrieved the belt. She glanced over at her slave and saw in his large, adoring eyes the understanding of what she desired. He walked to the centre of the room and stood patiently while her dextrous fingers wound the rope around his wrists.

Wham. The first blow struck. An angry red mark across his buttocks. Wham. A second, this time across his muscular chest. The blows landed, one after another, and this time, as she saw his large black penis stand to attention, she felt the hot flush of lust spread over her cheeks. This tamed beast in front of her, this muscle-bound barbarian who could slap her down at any time, was meekly enduring her blows. And not only that, but he was enjoying them.

For her part, as in most of their beating rituals, her underwear was growing a wet spot under the pretty dress which he had fastened for her that morning. But this time it was different, stronger. As the blows landed, she felt a hot stone deep in her abdomen. The heat spread across her lower half, and then her whole body. Her hand shook as she struck the beautiful, dark, depraved man and his twitching cock. With a jolt, she realised she was having an orgasm.

Gasping, she lowered the belt and gripping the corner of the bedpost behind her. She stared at her beast in the face. The understanding in his eyes had dimmed, replaced by a deep confusion. Of course, he remained silent, as always.

Over to him she went. She grabbed his stiff penis and pulled him over to the bed. Gently but firmly, she pushed him down to his knees, his hands still tied behind his back. His Little Miss sat on the bed, slowly opened her legs and pulled his face into her wetness.

Immediately it felt right to her. He began to nuzzle her pussy through the damp fabric, and the friction against her clit made her want to cum again right there. Instead, she pulled him even closer in and began to rub herself on his nose and mouth. He started to move his lips and she cried —


He looked up at her with scared and confused eyes.

“Don’t do a thing. I’m using you. Don’t fucking move, nigger.”

The last sneering word dripped from her lips, causing a thrill to ripple down her spine at abusing him so.

She pulled his face back in and humped him, harder now. His face was nothing more than a black canvas for her to rub her soaking white pussy on. The thought sent another jolt of pleasure to her centre. Her fingers scratched at the back of his head and shoulders. She knew she was causing him pain, and damaging his skin with her nails. “I’m going to orgasm again,” she realised, and had another shuddering climax on his face.

Spent, she slowly released his head from her thighs and sank back onto the bed. A faint smile crossed her lips as she lay in the afterglow of the orgasms that her toy had given her. After a few minutes, she sat back up and smoothed her dress.

Looking down at the slave in front of her, she noticed that he had spurted a white substance from his aching cock, all over himself and the floor. She had never been with another man and didn’t initially recognise it. Did all men…? Was this what other girls had…?

Intrigued, she tentatively reached forward and dipped her fingers in it. Looking her manservant in the face, she saw the panic in his eyes and realised that he too had had an orgasm, with his hands behind his back. A devious grin lit up her face and she leaned forward and pushed her cummy fingers into his mouth.

“Well well,” she said, “It looks like I will have to punish you again.”

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