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BDSM Romance/Erotica Novels involving Asian females

Shanghai Baby by Wei Hui

Asian Women in Love by Claire Liu and Michelle Liu

Philosophy of White Man Worship by Emily Chin Lynch

Adopted Asian Daughter by Jessica Wang

Confessions of Submissive East Asian Women: a philosophical novel on BDSM, interracial love, dominant White men and submissive east asian women relationships by Jennifer Suzuki

Training of Inferior East Asian Women by Jennifer Suzuki

Romantic Rape of Nanking: War Crimes of Love by Jennifer Suzuki

Century of White Worship by Jennifer Suzuki

My Sexual Submission to White Power: The Diary of an Ordinary Chinese Woman’s Transformation from an Obedient Asian Wife to a Masochistic Chink Slut by Claire Liu

Genocide is what drives natural selection and human evolution in general.

A long winded prolegomenon that you can skip if you like. In fact, why not skip the entire thing if you want to just read about my sex life. 

All of a sudden, as I’m once again forced to express my philosophical weltanschauung to a generally unapproving audience, an audience that neither comprehends me nor appreciates me and rather only see the sexual side of me, I’m reminded of the me that was sitting here nearly 20 years ago, practicing for SAT writing, and then a few years later, for GRE writing. 

I remember when I got 6 out of 6 on a particular essay, and the professor had used my essay as a sample for other students who were wishing to improve their own essay writing. 

At the time I did not believe what I wrote at all. I merely wrote to satisfy the anonymous referees, the judges of values, the men and women who were trained and taught by the not-so-secret Vulgate of what is good and bad, what is right and wrong, what is acceptable and utter-nonsense, and compared the values that I expressed to the value judgement expressed therein, and either approved or disapproved my point, expressed on a scale from 1 to 6.

That was why I chose to study mathematics, because majoring in anything in the humanities would have been suicide for someone like me, who did not conform in thought to the mainstream ideologies of the day.

Am I out of the ordinary? Really? What I write is all fictional? Really? Annabel Chong, Amelia Wang Mayli, Annais Nin, etc. come to mind immediately. But why even bother to argue at this point? Why even write argumentative essays like this, as if there were anyone that I would want to dissuade at this point. 

A platitudinous exercise in thought

What is written below has actually been well known among evolutionary psychologists, though what they know they would like to keep buried in relatively obscure publications. “Scientists”, after all, are just like any other careerists who work from 9 to 5. They are not, and nor are they supposed to be, the ecclesiastical guardians of truth, any more than plumbers, electricians, or politicians. 

I used to write more beautifully than this, definitely more logical than what I’m writing here. But life is so much more meaningful than cold logic. I used to be able to give my reasons, support my reasoning with examples, just like a perfectly obedient A+ student. But now my mind is swamped with so much information. I can no longer give concise reasons. I will have to dedicate my life to the unwinding of my own mind. But I have other things to do, more interesting things, like sex, and the rearing of my children. 

So what am I really getting at?

I come not to bury Nick Bostrom, the hottest philosopher alive today. No, I’m simply indifferent to those modern, progressive philosophers who are on a holy metaphysical crusade to save mankind from themselves. The world will not end from some nuclear scientists reaching their hands into an imaginary urn and coming out with a black ball technology like a hydrogen bomb the size of a grenade, which, by the way, is what Lawrence Livermore National Lab is actually trying to do with their latest laser fusion breakthrough. I’m not convinced by his papers, and I have my reasons.

Because rather, the world will end, and is quietly approaching its trajectory to end, in a whisper. 

Whether you regard the world with an evil eye, the preservation of the species is the most formidable impulse there is among humankind, and nothing is more ancient, more powerful than this impulse, and whatever that you could do to harm this species preserving impulse has long been eliminated through natural selection even God is not capable of revoking this drive. 

And humans have been so good at what they do that they have gradually eliminated nearly all elements that were supposed to be harmful to the preservation of the species, so much so that the human species will go extinct precisely because of that. 

Human instinct to species preservation activates itself most effectively in the face of mortal dangers. And of all the mortal dangers, nothing is as quite like genocide that can enable humans to activate this species preservation instinct. In some way, the best and most effective way to make sure that humans want to preserve themselves is to actively make them perish. 

The proof of this is–genocide has always been very common throughout human history. The elimination of foreign species, “other” humans who are obstacles in the way of one’s own preservation, is as quotidian as eating rice.

And genocide is what drove natural selection. The stronger, more ruthless, more dominant species of humans propagated their genes wide and far across the globe. The weak, inferior species decimated and their genes, along with their corpses, their books, their civilization were cast into oblivion.

The Han Chinese, for instance, were faced with genocide on the civilizational scale no less than 10 times throughout their history. 

Of a few notable events:

During the Mongol invasion, it is no exaggeration that approximately 99% of all Han Chinese were completely wiped clean from the surface of the earth. According to historical data, the Chinese population dropped from nearly 100 million to less than 1 million during the transition from Song Dynasty to Yuan Dynasty. Shiratori Kurakichi (白鳥 庫吉), the famed Japanese Sinologist of the Kyoto school (京都支那学) , states that the ancient China with its glorious history, culture, inventions, and philosophy, all came to a crashing end at that point. The China afterward is a Mongol barbarian covered in Chinese skin, which is quite an apt imagery considering skinning people alive and wearing their skin is not something the Mongols hadn’t done. It’s of course also because of the wide spread interracial marriage between Mongolian warriors and local Chinese women that were happening en mass. An average Mongolian soldier would impregnate over 80 fertile Chinese women in the span of just a few months, and would have left descendants in the thousands over his life time. It is no secret that most Chinese today have Mongolian DNA inside them.

The same thing happened again during the transition from Ming Dynasty to Qing Dynasty. (Did you know the Manchus who ruled China during Qing Dynasty didn’t speak Chinese?) The Chinese population once again collapsed from its peak at more than 400 million (mid-Ming era) to less than 10 million (early-Qing era) in the span of 20~30 years. Most died in starvation, famine, torture, and mass killings on such a scale that it’s nearly impossible for a western man (who is not educated in Chinese history) to ponder the exceptional cruelty. Entire cities with close to 1 million people were completely razed to the ground, with severed limbs, heads, and torsos piled as high as mountains. Things such as “burying alive,” “cannibalism”, “skinning alive”, “boiling alive”, etc. were committed so routinely that the numbers themselves become cosmological constants, as if one were measuring the properties of the universe itself. One becomes numb. One can no longer comprehend suffering, cruelty, and the meaning of life.

Yet it is precisely due to those genocides, mass murders, starvation, torture and mass rape, the weak, unfit, and inferior specimen were eliminated via natural selection, and the more superior specimen were thereby allowed to properly breed the next generation of humans.

I think this essay–I have meant to keep it brief–is getting a little too long. I don’t really want to expound my philosophies anymore–I believe I actually have already written about it. I want to focus on the fun things in life, like sex, and food, and travel. And it’s so long winded that I’ve forgotten the points that I was about to introduce. It has become a stream of consciousness unintentionally …

The world will come to an end. The human species will go extinct. But not the way Nick Bostrom envisioned. The world will end after it has become too peaceful, too comfortable, too cozy, and humans lose their will to reproduce. No longer faced with mortal danger and no longer being pushed to the brink of extinction, humans will go extinct in a stupor of euphoric bliss. 

In evolutionary biological terms, we are, very obviously, all descendants of rape. There is no such thing as consent among the opposite sex, even just 50 years ago. The stronger men kill and pillage, and on their way, they breed the local females. 

And without those necessary (necessary evil?) and essential stimulants, humans gradually lose that species preserving instinct, their will to power, will to live, will to procreate, and this is all happening as we speak. Chinese population is facing collapse due to declining birthrate. So is Japan, Korea and Taiwan. The same thing is happening other most civilized nation states in the world, such as Germany, France, and Great Britain.

Only chimps and apes in Africa are still breeding, and so humans will come to an end. 

Conclusion:

But I don’t want to focus on those things anymore. Because my conclusion is nearly unspeakable, and I won’t say it out loud, in a polite company anymore.

Everything I have written Nietzsche had written a hundred years ago, and his followers, such as Carl Jung, and many others have written many times. A very popular modern writer by the name Bronze Age Pervert, whose work I have read, is a new follower of Nietzsche to pop onto the stage. In essence, I agree with Bronze Age Pervert that we should not let social justice stop just at its societal level. Why not more ambitious? Why not natural justice?

” Who cares. Here is my vision of the true justice, the justice of nature: the zoos opened, predators unleashed by the dozens, hundreds … four thousand hungry wolves rampaging on streets of these hive cities, elephants and bison stampeding, the buildings smashed to pieces, the cries of the human bug shearing through the streets as the lord of beasts returns.”

I have long forsaken philosophy. I have also forsaken mathematics. I’m living a serene, calm, and ordinary life, fulfilled and pampered both romantically and sexually. 

I really don’t wish to draw controversy to my personal beliefs which I know are repulsive to most of the unthinking masses, and at this point, instead of fighting them, I wish to become one of them.

Inter-universal Teichmüller theory and the ABC Conjecture

For this blog, I have been steering away from my professional work, but the on-going drama surrounding Shinichi Mochizuki and Peter Scholze is so interesting and has derailed so out of control it’s shedding light on an aspect of my sexual philosophical weltanschauung I feel compelled to bring the topic to my audience here.

So, since the technical nature of the works involved, a little quick introduction is necessary so you can follow the drama.

Shinichi Mochizuki entered Princeton University as an undergrad at the age of 16, eventually obtaining his Ph.D. in mathematics, also at Princeton, at the age of 23, and is considered an eminent mathematician in the field of anabelian geometry, which is actually completely beyond my ability to comprehend. Anabelian geometry is a subfield of algebraic number theory, which is by far the most difficult field in all of pure mathematics. This is the field where you encounter century old problems that have baffled the smartest people who ever lived for hundreds of years; things like Fermat’s Last Theorem, Jacobi Conjecture, Goldbach Conjecture, Twin Primes Conjecture, etc. all live in this field.

One of those famous conjectures involved in this controversy is the so-called ABC conjecture. It’s easy enough to actually describe what it does, as all those conjectures are, because they involve just real numbers, and their seeming simplicity absolutely belies the immense difficulties of ever trying to prove them. Having a Ph.D. in math at this point (I assume most of my readers here have yet to defend their Ph.D. thesis in math, which is the bare minimum requirement to even start discussing the work) doesn’t actually help you, in this case, to start comprehending the works behind those innocent-looking statements. And in the case of Mochizuki’s alleged proof, even being a Fields medalist (the Nobel prize equivalent for mathematics) is not sufficient.

Which, at this point, I would like to introduce our next math prodigy: Peter Scholze, Fields Medal recipient, the youngest tenured professor ever from University of Bonn in Germany, working in the field of arithmetic geometry. Receiving his Ph.D. in math at the age of 25. He was also a three times International Math Olympiad gold medalist when he was in high school and is considered one of the most talented mathematicians alive today, on par with other math prodigies such as Terence Tao and Jacob Lurie.

Okay, so now that the main characters are here, I can finally start telling you the drama that is unfolding and it’s honestly feeling like watching the remake of Newton vs. Leibniz.

What happened was Mochizuki invented Inter-universal Teichmüller theory (IUT), a whole new system of math that, if true, will be able to not just solve the ABC conjecture, but also a wide range of other unsolved conjectures in algebraic number theory. The preprints of IUT were almost 500 pages and were extremely abstruse and only a handful people in the world have the capability to understand them.

This was in 2012.

Recently, in 2020, Sholze and another colleague Jacob Stix claimed that after years of study, they have actually found an irreparable flaw in the logic in one of the IUT corollaries, and there was no foreseeable way to fill the gap. And apparently, from what I have read, by authors who were familiar with the work, because the way IUT is set up, there is actually no intermediate way to test the entire theory, and so if it can’t prove ABC, then it’s useless.

Scholze’s argument:

It’s impossible for me to understand the work of Mochizuki. Nobody in the whole world does other than a handful of people, but Scholze, who has studied IUT for several years, was actually able to simplify the works enough to a point that I was actually able to grasp some ideas from it, and this is what it boils down to:

Basically the IUT claims that hyperbolic curves can be completely characterized by their fundamental groups and we only need to study those fundamental groups. Which point Scholze disagrees and points to that actions on fundamental groups performed are not always commutative and Mochizuki had no way to fix it.

There is in fact a passage back and forth between (according to another theorem in IUT) hyperbolic curves and their fundamental groups via isomorphisms and it’s supposed to make the data more precise. Already, do you see a contradiction in IUT? If fundamental groups completely determine hyperbolic curve, then why does passage back and forth somehow improve the identification?

You can read Sholze’s original papers in the reference below.

This, apparently, has infuriated Mochizuki, who insisted that IUT is correct, and that the two mathematicians from Germany, Sholze and Stix are, and I quote, “profoundly ignorant of the actual mathematical content of inter-universal Teichmuller theory …” [See reference below]

He’s calling the two of most prominent mathematicians of our age imbeciles, and this is all in print.

And of course this is not over. Mochizuki had gone ahead and published his papers in a Japanese math journal, for which he is the chief editor, and in the publication, he claims to have solved the ABC conjecture. So in Japan, ABC conjecture is solved. The rest of the math community disagrees.

Then, in 2023, another mathematician Kirti Joshi from Arizona State University, who had studied Mochizuki’s papers, published a preprint that basically states that he was able to fill the gap in the original IUT and prove ABC conjecture.

However, Sholze disagrees and once again points out a gap in his proof and this happened in March of 2024, this year!

So now, instead of one, we have two flawed proofs of ABC conjecture. But that is not all, Joshi had reached out to Mochizuki to collaborate on IUT and this is what Mochizuki says about Joshi, who, while not as eminent a mathematician, is an associate professor of mathematics and has published numerous papers in credited math journals, “First of all, there was an entirely unanimous consensus that Joshi’s series of preprints was obviously mathematically meaningless, and that it was obvious that he did not have any idea what he was talking about.”

One mathematician has described this type of rhetoric as “simply unacceptable” in a professional setting.

But in academia, especially in math and physics, it seems that words like “you are either not listening or not understanding,” “You don’t seem to know what you are talking about at all,” “do you even understand?” are being thrown around all the time. And this is among people who have all obtained their Ph.D.’s in math or physics, people who are qualified to be doing research in their fields. Math and physics are very daunting fields of endeavor, and while I do not want to intimidate you, I do have to say that it’s not for everyone.

Not only that! But now Mochizuki has set up a foundation where he will award 1 million dollars to anyone who can find a flaw in his IUT! This is all very strange, and it’s honestly kind of embarrassing at this point. Also, there are emails where Mochizuki demand that Scholze and Stix retract their papers regarding finding flaws in IUT.

As Scholze said, the entire debacle is a great embarrassment for the mathematical community.

Let me end by saying that I wished that Mochizuki had focused his manuscript only on this mathematical point, and that I feel deeply sorry for Joshi for the rest of the manuscript (and more generally, I feel deep embarrassment as a member of the mathematical community.)

Honestly to me it’s like watching the battle of giants in real time, the gigantomachy of the smartest people alive on earth.

But I think the whole reason why I posted this here is to show you just how Japanese—East Asian societies and East Asian men in general—behave. Of course not all Japanese are this bad, but I’m not surprised that this happened in Japan. Japanese may be bad. Chinese is no better. A Chinese mathematician (Shing-Tung Yau of Harvard) tried to steal the proof of Poincare Conjecture from Grigori Perelman back in 2005.

This little anecdote just reinforces what I have always known—

The Fundamental Theorem of Jennifer Suzuki:

Seeking truth for truth’s sake was, is, and will after all always be a white men’s endeavor, and the greatest geniuses were, are and will always remain to be–white men.

Corollary:

If truth were an Asian woman (Nietzsche, 1898), then she will always choose to give herself to white man, and white man only.

Reference:

Click to access szpirostillaconjecture.pdf

https://www.math.columbia.edu/~woit/wordpress/?cat=33

Click to access 2023-08%20Brief%20report%20on%20the%20current%20situation%20surrounding%20inter-universal%20Teichmuller%20theory%20(IUT).pdf

Click to access reopen-e-mail-2022-06-30.pdf

Click to access Report%20on%20a%20certain%20series%20of%20preprints%20(2024-03).pdf

https://www.kurims.kyoto-u.ac.jp/~motizuki/papers-english.html

Click to access 2403.10430.pdf

https://mathoverflow.net/questions/467696/global-character-of-abc-szpiro-inequalities

https://mathoverflow.net/questions/468079/is-there-a-mistake-in-mochizukis-proof-of-theorem-1-10-in-iutt-iv

Jennifer Suzuki the philosopher?

I’m calm now, very calm compared to the same me that was 10 years ago. My life is now peaceful, happy, and serene. This gradually occurred to me after I turned 30. I still maintain this blog, albeit sporadically, because it is a testimony to my emotional and personal growth. I now sound so full of platitudes and cliches, like a proper adult. The philosophical writings that I once thought was so brilliant now—when I think of them, if I think of them at all—seemed so childish and amateurish and were all based on the misguided understanding of Nietzsche. Who am I to comment on the philosophical questions that tenured professors who studied those questions all their lives don’t have the answer to? And besides, besides Nietzsche, I have only read one book by David Hume, one book by Rene Descartes, most of the works by Plato, most of the works by Aristotle, most of the works of Karl Marx, most of the works of Sigmund Freud, most of the works of Marquis de Sade, most of the works by Kierkegaard; a few selective readings of Ayn Rand, Dostoevsky, Jean Paul Sartre, Wittgenstein, Schopenhauer, Julian Jaynes, Carl Jung, Solzhenitsyn, Marcel Proust, etc. And this list does not include the living authors and many other non-idealistic novelists that I’ve read, such as Hemingway, Flaubert, Stephen King, James Joyce, etc., and many other required readings from undergrad. (who wasn’t forced to read Foucault?)

While they may seem much more than the average person would ever read, they are far too few compared to a tenured professor of philosophy.

I enjoy reading, and that’s why I’m writing.

So who am I to tell you that Nick Bostrom’s argument whether we are living in a simulation or not is, though seemingly airtight in logic, so embellished, so full of mathematics (it seems to be the trend nowadays that every branch of studied endeavor is filling itself with mathematics, due to “physics envy” perhaps?), is nothing but an improved, modern version of Thomas Aquinas’s proof on the existence of God; that fundamentally, there is a categorical error, as Kant remarked in regards to the teleological argument in Quinque Viae, that is, there is a leap of faith between the immanent and the transcendental, that is, why does there has to be a non-simulated, original, “real” world?

Why this assumption of an unmovable mover? Always. Why? Why this first un-caused cause, the first who simulated the simulation, which simulation then simulated the simulation, ad infintum?

Because it’s a false question. The world is neither real nor simulated. The world is concocted or constructed by our logic, rationality and limited scope of human reason (Hello Friedrich Hayek!) and the world is perceived according to our meager, provincial, limited, human—all-too-human mind, so let’s follow the logic of Jacques Derrida and dismiss the question altogether as being framed in the wrong dichotomy.

Similarly, the world is neither meaningful nor meaningless. The world is neither benevolent nor malevolent. God neither exists nor doesn’t exist. Like the definition of a smooth manifold in which we have taken the set of all infinitely differentiable functions from the manifold to itself and then called the set of all derivatives of all such functions at any point, (now why did I just give you as anaolgy something from differential geometry, perhaps just like the philosophers such as Nick Bostrom, it’s simply the easiest way to convince you my reader that I am smarter than you), so we have defined the world according to our rational order, we have imposed in the very definition of the world what we constructed. The world is my idea. The world is my will.

And whenever we construct such a world order according to my idea, my will, my rationalistic, idealistic philosophy, there are certain axioms, first principles, if you will, that, sooner or later, need to be realized, actualized, unearthed, obviated.

And because of its axiomatic approach, which is unavoidable, as shown by Godel, then there are questions that can never be demonstrated, proved, and the easiest way to prove that such things exist is by self-reference (transform all statements into Godel numbers, assign a substitution function, self reference the substitution function, etc. etc. … )

If I ever think of those problems at all. If I still cared.

Perhaps I’ve always been like this, and I was just never made self-aware.

And it is true that having children changes you. Almost all my energy is now spent overseeing the growth and the well being of my children, for whom I’m willing to give my own life. And it is a great feeling, a sacrificial feeling.

I love talking about my own feelings. Logic, facts, rationality be damned. I don’t care about logic. I don’t care about facts. And what is rationality after all, nothing but the mere epiphenomenal representation of my emotional state.

The world is so much more colorful without facts, rationality, and logic.

The adventures of a very depraved Asian mother and her half Asian son

My soul is a consumed by a gentle fire, surrendered to the intoxicating whirlwinds of emotions of love, lust, sinful hunger, fueled by the flames of forbidden love.

I would die of shame if anyone ever find out.

I’m, just as you are, disgusted of myself. I hated myself for the depravity that I stoop myself in. I wish I was not born this way. I wish I was normal. I wish.

Yet this is my life.

So today I sucked my son’s cock while he was on the phone with his girlfriend.

There is this girlfriend my son had met in college that he’s been frequently hooking up with and today while my son and I were having some intimate movements together—I had his entire cock down my throat—his phone rang. It was his girlfriend. He ignored it at first but then she called again. I told my son, “It’s fine, answer it,” and reassured him that I would be quiet.

He pushed my mouth further down on his cock and answered.

I was a bit jealous, to be honest, and I kept trying to make him moan while he was talking to her as I deep throated his cock and intentionally made loud slurping sounds—breaking my promise to him I know—and I could tell she was asking him what that sound was. He brushed it off by saying he was picking something up.

The hottest part was when he told her “I love you” at the exact moment his cum was filling my mouth.

I know I should feel bad but for some reason I just feel turned on by it.

Mommy always knows what her son needs.

Because I truly believe no woman can love my son, can know my son, as intimately, as privately, as much, as I do. And as his mother, it’s my duty to teach him how to please women. But I know, I also know, that, in the end, I’m just a fool, that I’m risking a love that is never meant to be. Even as the flames of our passion burned bright and fierce, the broader society and the wider world will simply never accept us for who we are.

Despite of all the clamors in this world about acceptance, about love, about diversity and equality, I’m still an outlier, an outsider to the loving, tolerant society that I live in. This world can accept gays, transgender, fat people, and pink haired weirdos, I know, but they can never accept me, a sinful Asian woman.

Forbidden love’s sweet bait from fearful hooks.

All my sense of reason melted away, replaced by an intoxicating rush of desire, as I felt his warm embrace. I betray the trust of those who are close to me, the norm of this society. I broke the Biblical promise, the covenant of Nature, the rightful laws of God and the guidance of the Son of Man.

I want to become a slut for my son and entertain his friends as well.

My son and I just had some wonderful sex and we were relaxing naked in bed. I scrolled through my camera roll showing him some cute memories I had in the past. My heart dropped as I scrolled through the video cover photo of a very sexual video in my photos. It was a clip from a wild weekend where I was taking three white men with large cocks. He grabbed my hand preventing me from scrolling pass it, and said, very firmly, “What is that?”

He clicked the video so he could see for himself. I froze as the video began.

As he watched, his eyes flickered between my naked body and the video. For a moment, I could sense a flash of anger in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something else. An intense, kinky, deviant desire. He watched the white men grunt as they pounded my pussy and asshole. Their hands were pulling my hair and twisting my nipples as they took turns using me for their pleasure.

All the while I was moaning and I writhed beneath them, sandwiched, happily accepting my place as an Asian whore for white cocks.

He breathed heavier as he watched, his cock growing steadily. He couldn’t help himself, I could sense, seeing me like that, being completely submissive to three white men who were not his dad. He began touching his cock as he watched me continue being fucked by the group of big white men.

He even saw the close-up of me having the cock down my throat. He also saw the close up of both my holes being pounded while my hands were twisted and held behind me. I was like a captive.

Without another word, he pushed me on my back once more.

My son fucking my ass:

Without any lubrication, he put his cock deep into my asshole as I whimpered in response.

He was so rough with me. While he fucked my tight ass he shoved his fingers down my throat and choked me while I drooled and moaned. While this was happening he made me tell him how much of a slut I am and how much I loved taking 3 big white men at once. I obeyed and told him the truth about how much i loved it and wanted it again.

After cumming in my ass he made me send him the video, which he said he was going to share with his friends, and then he told me that next time he might “bring some friends and make a better video”.

I couldn’t help but feel so lucky for this perfect outcome.

I am collared and owned. This is my daily life, my identity. Without my son I am nothing. He is my life, my soul, my everything.

I have had lots of different lovers, friends with benefits, husbands, boyfriends, one-night-stands, etc. At some point I had stopped counting but a rough estimate would put my body count to be around a few hundreds. At some point sex stopped having its meaning. It became a routine almost. “Work. Travel. Sex with strangers. Repeat.” When I was not working, I travelled the world. I have been to almost all the major cities in the world, and I have used the opportunity to have sex with lots and lots of different men: scientists, doctors, billionaires, engineers, college students, Ivy League professors, psychologists, pastors, dancers, actors, politicians, hedge fund portfolio managers, police officers, fire fighters, active duty military personnel, FBI agent. I’ve had sex with all of them.

If there is one author I highly recommend my readers to read, it would most definitely be Walter Benjamin. He wrote a short fragment called “Experience” and it was the most insightful philosophical treatise on a topic that I ever read. I copied and copied his writing again and again, and I could never get enough. In fact, I copied and copied the entire preface to his Trauerspiel no less than ten times and I read it over and over again, and I simply couldn’t get enough of it. And he has another fragmented piece where he talked about writing diary is equivalent to being silent to a prostitute. He is a very mystical writer, he’s like the Kafka of philosophy. If you liked reading Kafka when you were in college, you definitely will like Walter Benjamin.

Erloesung

So I have experienced sex, and yet it was without meaning. It became monotone, even though they were all very interesting men and they were all very well endowed. Something was lacking in my life. I needed passion. I needed danger. Cruelty. Bidding and forbidding. Intoxication. Adrenaline rush.

I want to stand on the precipice of ruin and make my way to the sacrificial altar of despair.

What shocked me, what utterly shocked me, was the soul mate I have been seeking for all my life has been living with me all my life—residing in the reckless, unpredictable and yet utterly captivating body of an 18 year old half white half Asian freak. It was my moment of erloesung.

I call my son a freak as a term of endearment, because he is so sadistic, so ruthless, and yet so effeminate. He is like a little Asian man trapped inside a white man’s body. He reminds me of my grand father, a pure bred Japanese man who used to torture Chinese women for sports during World War II. It’s almost an atavism of the old genetic stock. I love him so much.

I know I am playing a dangerous game. I am risking everything I hold dear. But the heart wants what the heart wants,, and I’m ensnared forever in this web of forbidden love.

Exposing our relationship in front of a friend for the first time.

I don’t have to tell you how much of a Freudian totem and taboo what I’ve been doing is considered by the wider “civilized” society, and one time I had almost exposed myself in front of a friend. She was a girlfriend of mine and we were on a trip together. We shared a one bedroom in an Airbnb. Because of the tight arrangement, we all slept in the same bed. We had been drinking and I was horny. Once my friend was asleep I reached my hand under the blanket to start jerking off my son. He gently played with my pussy and rubbed my clit. I started to let out a moan because of how amazing it felt and was quickly reminded me to stay quiet because my friend had just turned over.

After a little bit of time I stopped worrying, seeing that she was quite deep in sleep and I had a rush over the fact that our friend could wake up and accidentally catch us.

Then my son told me to get on my hands and knees and I did as I was told. With my bare pussy facing the friend that was asleep. This only increased my lust and my fear as my son started to finger me bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. The rush of knowing that our friend could wake up at any time and see my soaking wet pussy and my son fingering me only increased my desires.

An Asian mother and her half Asian son.

Confessing to my son that I enjoy being gang banged.

Being an 18 year old, he is obsessed with sex. He spends all day in his room and watches porn on the internet. He doesn’t have a girlfriend and I’m a bit concerned about him. He has on numerous occasions about some very sexual things to me, such as if I have ever had wet dreams, and what was the content of those wet dreams, what kind of sexual fantasies I’ve had, and what I enjoyed in the bedroom.

I was initially quite shy but each time after I talked to my son about those very intimated things they were very well received. I get turned on as well when I see him beaming with excitement and I feel it actually made us closer.

Being a single mother is hard, and being a single mother with a half Asian son who is coming of age, who is figuring out how to become a man, is even more difficult. I do everything I can do make my son happy. So when my son asked me about the kind of sexual fantasies or the content of my wet dreams, after the initial dithering, I decided to confess fully and completely.

My son brought me a pair of panties on Mother’s Day.

My husband left me a long time ago. My daughter who is turning 22 this year has a life of her own and does not live with me

My life is just me and my son, who is everything in my life and whom I love for all the world, which is something that I don’t expect you to understand if you are not a mother.

Being half white and half Asian, my son is very popular among Asian girls, being in touch with Asian culture and at the same time being white, and he has been bringing lots of Asian girls home and I’ve heard them having sex, and I’m honestly so proud of him and I don’t feel the least bit of jealousy. In fact, I’ve been introducing Asian girls to my son as well and this actually makes us feel a lot closer.

On Mother’s day my son told me he had a surprise for me and I eagerly waited for him to come home from his classes.

He gave me a box which I opened and I was a bit shocked because he brought me panties.

A black lace thong-panties with small, silver massaging pearls running up the crotch area, to be more exact.

I thanked him but I said “it’s a bit inappropriate for a son to buy for his mother” and to which he replied, “not to worry” and rather, “take it as something positive.” A phrase I did not fully understand in terms of its intention.

I smiled anyway and then he asked me to wear them for him.

I love my son and I’d do anything for him if it meant it will please him.

I wore them and went to his room to show him. Other than the panties, I only had a bra on. Nothing less. I was walking bare feet too.

The silky smooth fabric felt so cool and comfy against my skin and the pearls rubbed into my pussy like a lover’s soft touch.

He told me to turn around and he complimented on my curve. I bent over a bit and he said my pussy lips were fully visible. I got a bit scared and covered myself with my hands. He thanked me and told me not to worry because he liked it.

I get wet whenever I wear this panties and it’s my favorite panties.

I’m so attracted to my half Asian son.

Even though he is only 5 feet 7, he is just so handsome and good looking. He has a mixture of both Caucasian and Asian features. He is very skinny and weighed only 130 lb. His skin is lily white and his eyes were very Asian, and he is more feminine looking than a lot of the girls I know, but his cock is definitely Caucasian.

When he thought I was in bed asleep, when all the lights in the house were out, only the fluorescence from the computer screen in his room was visible, I only quietly peaked in. He had his cock out and he was stroking it, while looking at videos of Asian women being hogtied on his laptop. My knees got weak and I watched for at least 30 seconds before I crept back to my room. I fingered my pussy thinking about my son’s big white cock.

I often walked completely naked in front of my son after I took a shower so he could see everything as I walked back to my room. I don’t want there to be any mystery between us.

There is nothing sexual between us, to be sure. I was attracted to my son only in a puritanical way, like the owner of a cat or the camaraderie between two girlfriends. In some way, I see my son as my best girlfriend.

My son knows that I touch myself at night listening to him fucking other Asian girls.

He was actually very depressed immediately after graduating from high school. He scored 99 percentile on SAT, and had 10 AP’s, and yet he was wait-listed by all the Ivy League schools that he applied to: Harvard, Princeton, Yale, and Brown. He was accepted to Berkeley but I didn’t want him to leave me and neither did he want to fly over to California. I told him mommy gets lonely after dad left us and wanted his company.

Returning his favor for staying at home with me by going to a local college (the tuition is cheap), I’ve been hooking up my half-Asian son with beautiful, young, fertile Asian women I met from Asian American Association and other Asian community service centers, and to be honest, nothing in the world feels better than listening to my son having sex with those gorgeous Asian women every night.

I’ve had countless orgasms hearing my son bringing those other demure Asian women to orgasm. Some are 18 year old Asian girls. Some are Asian women in their mid-20s to early 30s. Some have had illustrious careers while living in China, actresses, ballet dancers, beauty models. Some were married and divorced. Some were virgins. And yet despite of all their differences and coming from all walks of life, none of them could resist my son’s gorgeous white cock, which actually makes me feel so proud as his mom.

The most fun was when somehow me and the Asian woman my son was fucking cummed simultaneously. I would even daydream of joining them.

One night, I was pleasantly surprised when, at 1 AM, I heard the soft moans of an Asian woman again. Just a few hours ago she was fucked to loud, screaming orgasms and now her voice almost sounded like she was begging, a pitiful begging, pleading for mercy. Before fucking those Asian women, my son enjoyed humiliating them, by whipping them with belts, clamping their nipples and pussy lips, and making them kneel and prostrate before him.

That night, after awakened so rudely, I decided not to moan into my pillow anymore and I touched myself to the sound of my son fucking his Asian slut. I didn’t hold back. I moaned, quivered and cummed out of my mind.

The next morning, my son came up to me at the kitchen counter and said, “I just wanted you to know that we can hear you mom, … which tells me that you can hear us too. I have no plans of being quiet, neither should you.”

Blood was rushing to my face and my entire face, neck, and chest turned scarlet with shame. First shame, then lust. I could barely control myself as my fingers trembled and I resisted with all the power in my body from touching my self.

That night I saw my son go to the kitchen completely naked and his penis was dangling between his legs. He saw me watching him from my room and just smiled at me and went back to his room, leaving his bedroom door slightly open.

What amazed me is how he can act like nothing happened the next day while knowing full well that he’s making his mom cum like a common Asian whore just by thinking about his big white cock.

My son invites two random guys to fuck me while I was blindfolded.

Here Job is voicing the torment of soul caused by the onslaught of unconscious desires; the libido festers in his flesh, a cruel god has overpowered him and pierced him through with barbed thoughts that agonize his whole being.

— Carl Jung

Every Asian woman is Job when she encounters a white man. White man is her cruel god, who overpowers her, pierces her, and causes her both agony and pleasure beyond this world.

About a week after the “incident”, my son and I had more “little talks”, confiding our inner most secrets to one another. Knowing full well that his mother is a horny Asian slut, my son suggested that he arrange a kinky threesome experience for me, since this is something that my husband was never confident enough to do for me while I was married.

I was very nervous, but everything turned out to be even better than I had ever expected.

The idea was that my son would tie me up and blindfold me in the bedroom. Then he would go and let his friends (pure white and American of course) in and the two of them would use my tied up body like I was a little toy for them. The whole time I would be blindfolded so that the men would remain a total mystery to me and of course they had no way of knowing that I was the mother to my son. It sounded so exciting and I agreed.

My wrists were tied behind my back and ropes were looped around my breasts forcing them to look bigger, and my knees was brought up my chest and tied with zipties. I was completely exposing my pussy and ass.

Left in the quiet and dark for a few moments, the anticipation rose massively. I felt so helpless. All I could do was lay there and wait, unable to move away or see what was going on.

I heard foot steps shuffling and assumed my son had brought the two guys into my bed room but none of them spoke up. My heart was beating and I was desperate to shout out my son’s name, begging for release, then I heard my son’s voice and instantly I felt safe and secure.

He praised my body, telling the guys how at my age my nipples are still so perky and my pussy so tight, and of course he never failed to mention to them that I’m “an Asian slut for white cocks.”

“My mom is an Asian slut for white cocks.” He said and those words were seared in my mind.

Without eyes seeing, I imagined in my mind eye the sneer on their young, potentially freckled, faces. My son encouraged the guys to use me like a toy, but all I heard from the two mystery men were their grunts and moans as they grabbed at me and used me. I felt their masculine, hard bodies against me, their big steely cocks shoved to the back of my throat and pushed between my legs.

I came hard on those two men’s cocks, and felt them pumping cum inside me. I never saw their faces. They could have been anyone. Maybe they were already people I knew. Maybe one day I will meet them and have no idea who they are. Maybe we will never be able to recognize each other, and that felt so hot to me.

I sleep with the door to the house unlocked so people could come in anytime to fuck me.

The two mystery men would visit me unannounced in the middle of the night. My son had given a copy of the key to the house to one of the men so even if I had locked the door, they could have been able to come in with the spare key.

One night as I was in bed falling asleep I heard the front door open and it’s only natural that I was so scared and I was ready to scream. I didn’t hear any voice, only the foot steps and my anxiety was building up as every second passed.

I called out my son’s name and asked “Is that you?” and there was no response. I was too afraid to get out of bed and I was getting ready to call the police when the door—which had been ajar—was swung open and there were two men walking towards me.

Before I had time to react my hands were tied behind my back and a gag was shoved inside my mouth. Then the two men crawled into my bed like they owned it. I was terrified but also excited.

30 minutes later my pussy, ass and mouth were filled with cum and both of them were sweaty and breathing heavily.

I told them I was exhausted and wanted to go to bed, but we could cuddle for a while. They untied my hands and the three of us spooned. I fell asleep with both guys rubbing my nipples and clit and before I knew it they were both inside me again, one inside my pussy and another one inside my ass. I took another big load up each hole and finally fell sleep but against was fucked awake.

I love my son even more now.

♥ being an Asian Whore in White Cocks Paradise ♥

The superiority of White Male is so obvious and self evident that most people for most of the time simply take it for granted, without ever second guessing or even being conscious of the truism. It only becomes prominent when compared to men of inferior races.

As a Asian woman, I suck and fuck white men on a regular basis.

There is no secret that I love white men. Matter of fact, most Asian women do.

And no, it has nothing to do with self hatred. I’m proud of my Asian heritage and I’m in touch with my own culture. I’m fluent in both Japanese and Chinese, and have read through classics in both. I’m conversant in French and German. My Classicist education means that I have working familiarity with both Latin and Greek.

As an Asian woman, I consider myself above all an intellectual elitist, and I’m turned on as much by the physical, sexual prowess of white men as by their superior intellectual thumos, which they wear like a pendentif that guide their genius, from the invention of calculus to the exploration of cosmos.

The internet does make dating easy for an attractive and intelligent East Asian woman like myself, though I still do prefer the surreptitious encounter in the coffee shop, at the bus stop, or in the library. They seem to be more romantic.

The usual “date” goes something like this. We meet. We go somewhere to talk. And then we go fuck. I absolutely love it.

Depending on the situation, sometimes I would assure the guy I meet that I’m not a slut. I tell them that “I don’t do this often. I never do this. I’m not an easy girl. … I never get on my knees and suck the cock of a guy I just met. … I have never jumped into bed with a man I just met.”

I tell them those things because it turns them on. And honestly, every time I suck on a stranger’s cock, I still get butterflies in my stomach, no matter how many cocks I’ve already sucked on that day. And the excitement always made my pussy tingle too.

Of course, there are men who are turned on by the fact that I have slept with many men. They do exist but they are rare. Most white men still seem to hold onto a puritanical view of Asian women and view us as either pure virgins or wanton sluts.

Because of my work, I travel often. I’ve been to Canada, England, Greece, France, Spain, Singapore, Hong Kong, Shanghai (I have an apartment in Shanghai), Tokyo, Osaka, Okinawa, Taiwan; and I’ve been to almost every major city in America.

And because of the constant travel, I have the opportunity to find so many new guys to have fun with and every time I fuck, it always feels so different.

Some guys gets ecstatic when I let them cum inside my mouth. Some of them prefer to cum on my ass and back. I don’t ask them to use a condom unless they bring it up first, and many will put on a condom without me saying anything.

Being used by so many different white men is a hobby that I keep to myself. So far this this year I’ve already sucked off 30 different guys, being fucked in my pussy by 10, and 2 of them fucked me in the ass.

I worked on and off as an escort not because I needed the money, but I enjoyed being a whore (for white men).

For obvious reasons, I cannot discriminate men by race so openly. I don’t have to. I simply don’t fuck any man who is not white. I tell them that they are a nice guy but I simply don’t find them attractive. Only in a hushed voice, I whisper, in secret to my selected white lovers, that “I’m a white cock only slut.”

Being a whore and being able to provide pleasure to so many white men makes me happy. I give those white men what their wives and girlfriends wouldn’t give them, and because I’m a whore, I don’t cling to them or get entangled in their private lives.

Sometimes I feel I’m actually incapable of falling in love. That’s why I enjoy being a whore. And sometimes I actively despise the man I give myself to. When I become a whore, all the eroticism comes to the surface. As I walk down the street, even fully clothed, I feel my self naked, my pussy, my tits, my ass all exposed, and I wouldn’t live any other way. Because I have sucked on so many cocks, my mouth itself has become a sexual organ and when I speak to men, I wonder if they know how often I’ve used my mouth to please men’s cocks, and I get embarrassed. I couldn’t stand their stare.

When I was young (18 to 25), my customers were mostly older white men. As I become older (29 to 36), my customers were mostly young, naive, college aged white men. It just seemed apropos that as I crossed the bridge of 30, and became a mother myself, I should provide guidance to the younger generation. My maternal instinct kicks in.

Sucking the soul out of my white boy

One of my customers was a 19 year old virgin white boy who was just admitted to MIT. I didn’t tell him that my daughter went to the same college. He gave me 20 dollars and in exchange I give him a hand job. The amount of money is irreverent. I have often done the same thing for free, but it does make me feel hornier to get paid.

A few days after the hand job he called me again and said wanted to see me. He was so shy and his voice was so innocent. I thought he wanted another hand job.

We talked and after he finished what he was saying, I smiled and told him: “It’s okay, pal. You can just tell me if you want my help again.” I rubbed his chest and pointed to his crotch. The look on his face was absolutely adorable. It was a mix of shock and excitement.

It was clear to me that he was not used to the idea of a woman almost as old as his mother giving him pleasure. He gave me a little nod and handed me 40 dollars and asked if that’s enough for a blow job. I giggled and I kissed his cheek and ran my hand up his chest, under his T-shirt, and felt his soft blonde hair.

It was a weird but wonderful feeling. It was almost as if I was touching my own son. I even teased him a little and asked him what would he do if I were his Asian step mom.

I slowly jerked his cock while giving him my warm, caring, maternal affection. He was squirming and whimpering. I pulled his pants down to his ankles and brought my face between his legs. I stopped a moment to admire his big white cock and low hanging testicles. I couldn’t get over how young and eager his cock looked, and it was twitching in anticipation. And the smell of his sex. It was so intoxicating. Like pure umami. The scent sent tremulous waves of pleasure through my entire body.

I gently pressed my lips to the tip of his penis, giving it a long and slow kiss. It pulsed and oozed a small bead of clear liquid. I gingerly and slowly wrapped my mouth around his cock head and started taking him in mouthful.

I massaged his balls and bobbed my head up and down. My mouth was his fleshlight. I began to go deeper. From experience I know men like the noises from my throat when I suck them off and so I tried the same. Then I went full throttle, swallowing his cock until my nose touched his pubic air.

He had the cutest reaction when he was about to orgasm. He moaned with a shaky voice and whimpered and his whole body was shaking. I felt his penis pulsating and I swallowed his penis down, pressing my nose into his crotch further and then stopped moving. I tried to swallow repeatedly to get my throat muscles to squeeze his cock. Then I felt his youthful tremors and spurts of semen flow down my throat. It felt like pure euphoria. It wasn’t just sex. It felt like love.

I looked up to him and he had the cutest look on his face. I’ve made a very happy young white man. I’ve accomplished my purpose as an Asian woman.

A white boy cummed inside me in like two minutes and I still wanted more.

I started having sex regularly with a white boy who’s in his early 20s and one day I wanted to surprise him because I saw him coming home and he was taking shower. I took off my clothes and joined him in the shower. I started to stroke him and he loved it. He bit my neck and sucked on my nipples while fingering me hard.

When we were finally clean we took the action to the bedroom because at that point we were both feverishly in heat and I rode him pushing him into the bedroom and he cummed inside me in like two minutes, literally, and I was so disappointed.

Sensing my frustration he said “Let’s continue,” and even though he just cummed he told me to continue riding him. Then we switched position. We 69’ed until his cock became hard again and we did it doggystyle and missionary.

In the missionary we looked into each other’s eyes as we fucked and his eyes—omg, his blue yes—his eyes were the eyes of an orgasm for any Asian whore who is lucky enough. They were so blue, so incendiary, so intense, so marvelous. I felt as if something were palpating inside his eyes, like febrile waves trembling, pools of madness that could devour me like a cruel flame. His eyes mesmerized me.

I simply couldn’t control myself when I’m around white guys with blue eyes.

My White Boy fucked me harder when I told him I’m a whore.

A couple weeks ago a customer knocked on my door while my white boy was staying over. I was flustered because I wasn’t expecting a customer. We had a little chat and I told him to go away. My white boy asked me who was it and I told him he was an old patient of mine who came by to thank me. I used to work as a nurse. 

A few days later my white boy came over to stay and once again some guy showed up. This time the guy was really abnoxious and told me he made an appointment. I totally forgot. My white boy came over to see what we were arguing. The guy told him that he had an appointment. I apologized to him and told him to go away. 

My white boy was very confused and he confronted me. Why are all those men coming to my apartment? I began to cry because I didn’t want him to leave me. I told him I work as a prostitute. He told me to confess how long I’ve been doing it. I told him I’ve been doing it on and off since college. 

He asked me why didn’t I stop. I told him I love having sex with strangers. It turned me on and I made lots of money. I honestly thought he was going to slam the door and leave but what he did next totally surprised me. He wiped out his cock and shoved it in my mouth and told me to suck it. He was rock hard and I moistened it with my saliva then he pulled down my panties very roughly and stuffed his dick inside me. 

I was confused and I asked him, do you actually like knowing your girlfriend is a whore, and he replied, “yes, very.” As he fucked me hard he licked my nipples and then bite on my neck and chest. He had never been so ferocious. As he fucked me he said he’s going to whore me out and let me fuck as many strangers as I want. 

After he cummed inside me he still wasn’t satisfied and made me scoop out his cum from my pussy and he demanded that I tell him more, more about my debauched sex history. so I started telling him about all the men I’ve had sex with and after just a few minutes he was hard again. He kept on fucking me over and over that night and honestly, it was the best sex ever. There was a mix of anger, jealousy, love, hatred, all raw passion. After all the confession I made, he confessed to me that he is incredibly turned on knowing that his Asian girlfriend is not just a slut, but also a whore. 

I guess everything worked out for the best. And my white boy is growing into a White Man.

One of the things I told him was that I enjoyed being a whore because that meant I did not have to be romantically attached to a man. I enjoyed the freedom that comes with being a whore. I also repeatedly mentioned my failed marriages and my trials and tribulations as a single mother. I just thought I’d mention those in passing.

I am prepared for anal at all times because I know how much white boys love fucking my Asian ass.

Every Friday, in addition to primping up my hair, my makeup, putting on my sexiest and sluttiest dress, I also give myself an enema before I go out. It not only douches my rectum so it’s nice and clean for white men, but by drawing out the ritual it provides a wonderful psychological effect as I become aware of my anus being prepared to be fucked.

I think white men enjoy anal because it’s pure pain for an Asian whore like me, feeling completely stretched out and deprived of my womanhood, especially when I end up cumming from anal. It’s like, “woah, whore, you’re that desperate you’ll cum from having your asshole stretched open ….”

___

I ♥ being an Asian Whore for BWCs

___

But the knowledge that I’ve had multiple cocks inside me does fascinating things to the male psychology, it seems.

Before that fateful “confessional” event, we had sex maybe once or twice a week. And while the sex was good, we were together mostly because we were both afraid of being alone. Now, however, our sex is sparking up in a way that was shocking to me. He’s demanding sex 3 ~ 4 times a day, and to be honest, I do feel a little exhausted.

It almost fees like he’s fucking me with a vengeance. There is a lot of raw passion, a mixture of jealousy, love, bitterness, romance, roughness, dominance, and submission, and, don’t get me wrong, it’s great. I read somewhere in pop evolutionary biology that men tend to sexually compete with one another in sexual intercourse and in order to do that, men need to actively fuck a woman repeatedly in order to scoop out other competitor’s semen form the vagina to ensure his genes get passed down and I fee like this is what he’s doing. But he is taking it further and I will explain how at the end.

My White Boy is fucking me raw all the time now.

Though I’ve always been very sexual, I now do feel a bit hard to keep up. He fucks me very roughly and often multiple times in one session, using my mouth, my pussy and my ass, but not always in that order, and he cums in all three holes over the course of a few hours. I use a lot of lubes, especially when he does anal. After he cums, he doesn’t allow me to clean myself up. Instead he puts a butt plug inside my ass and make sure I keep all his cum in my hole for the rest of the day. For the cum that I didn’t swallow, I’m not allowed to wipe his cum off my face either and I had to walk around the rest of the day with his dried cum.

It’s definitely a very erotic feeling as we sat in the sushi restaurant ordering food and talking about life knowing full well that my pussy, ass and mouth have been stuffed full of his cum just a few minutes ago. It makes me feel so submissive to him. I always dress in the skimpiest clothes when I go out with him. That means very low cut dress that barely covers my ass and tits and at least 4 inches high heels that made sure anyone who looked at me knew I was a whore.

The contrast of me being an older Asian woman and him being a younger Caucasian man adds a strange, exciting quality that is hard to put my finger on exactly. It feels so sinful.

Being older, I do tend to be very maternal and shower him with love in a way that is probably considered doting by western stands. But to be honest, I do get turned on a lot when he suckles on my nipples and act so childish and innocent and demands impossible things from me. I have my own life and I have to take care of my job, my family, etc., and he would demand me to give him sex whenever he is horny. It makes me feel so submissive knowing that the relationship is gradually transforming from vanilla to S/M almost on its own, without either one of us initiating in particular. Like river flows, our love ebbs deeper into the twirl pool.

___

Turning me into a gang bang toy for all his friends

___

Late night after the date—dinner, movie, a walk in the park, and then his place, as I walked into his apartment, I saw three guys that I’ve never met before.

He didn’t even bother with introductions, and simply told me to strip naked and kneel on the floor. Being the good submissive that I am, I listened and did what I was told. I was very nervous and very embarrassed, but also incredibly turned on, seeing his cocky attitude and domineering expression which made my heart melt with happiness. I guess deep down, just like in the novel Shanghai Baby, we Asian women just always have a soft spot for authoritarian men.

My boyfriend—I think I should call him my master now—told me to play with my pussy, and I did. I opened my sex, my fingers splaying open my own pussy lips to get their attention. They talked among themselves. The more they ignored me, the more eager I became. I played with my nipples and rubbed my clit and I begged my boyfriend to put his dog collar and leash around my neck.

He grabbed a broomstick and told me to fuck myself with it all the while calling me a pathetic asian whore. I put on a masturbation show for the 4 horny college aged guys and was on the verge of an orgasm as they watched. I was so wet the broomstick slipped out of my pussy so my boyfriend ordered me to shove in up my ass instead.

I felt so ashamed of how slutty I am and yet at the same time I absolutely loved every minute of it.

They took turns touching me, and they showed me no mercy, as they pinched my nipples, slapped and twisted my pussy lips and clit, spanked my ass, and shoved their cocks down my throat. For the entire night I was double penetrated, spitroasted, triple penetrated, and there were cum running down my every hole. And even as I reminisce that night now, I couldn’t help but to slip my fingers down to my pussy again. The sex was that good.

___

I almost got impregnated during the gang bang

___

To put icing on the cake, none of them used condoms and I wasn’t on birth control either. The next morning I ran to the drug store to get second day pill but the drug store near my house was closed and I was getting very stressed out. I looked around for another place and finally found one that was open after searching all morning.

But to be honest, I wouldn’t have minded to become pregnant again. I wold love to carry the baby for any young white man and I had already done that twice. My womb, I have learned, is meant to be bred, and being bred makes me happy. It’s like the most powerful drug in the world, the drug of life, the drug of the selfish gene replicating itself.

With those young white men’s sperm inside my every hole, butt plugged, nipples clamped, and pussy lips stretched with a vaginal stretcher, I had another orgasm as I fucked myself on my dildo. I couldn’t believe how horny I had been and honestly everything that happened to me had sent me from the humdrum of nothingness to the inebriating bliss of paradise. My sexual awakening stirs those youthful tremors in my heart again, and made me relive the faint stirrings of my first love. I’m in delirious joy as I relive every moment, every minute, my heart leaps with joy, sings in harmony for once again I’m with nature.

In the depth of my withered heart a fire has been rekindled, and a lucid rancor once again flourished.

A list of things I would do for my White Master to show my devotion as his yellow whore:

  • Proposition a white man (a complete stranger) on the street to fuck me, bareback, and thank him for cumming inside me afterward. He must cum inside me. If he chose to wear a condom, it doesn’t count.
  • Fuck a group of white guys (3 or more), preferably tourists from an European country. At least one guy must fuck me anally.
  • Fuck a white co-worker that I’ve known for a long time.
  • Gang bang in a public place and make sure at least ten people see me.
  • offer rim job to a white guy in a men’s rest room.
  • offer a white guy to give me golden shower in a men’s rest room.

**All of the above tasks must be accomplished without condom or birth control.

Those tasks were my challenges to show my devotion and I get so horny just thinking about the things that I will be required to do, but I promised him I will do it, and I will do it. It will be so much fun, and I love being an Asian whore for white men.

My calling in life is to be an Asian whore for White Men.

In event of the immense psychological discourse we are about to embark upon, this pleromatic excursus that I had written over ten years ago is then not out of place as an introduction.

I put the Big White Cock in my mouth and close my eyes …

I am not worthy to see what a real man looks like.

Memories of my childhood come rushing back to me. Of how I’ve always looked at White Men and wished I could be around them. Of seeing the white boys among my classmates going through puberty, seeing them grow tall and muscular, seeing their chest hair underneath the collar of their shirts … seeing them grow from boys into men, White Men, seeing how big a White Cock really was the first time I got fucked. … Of realizing as an asian girl living in America, I was destined to be their whore.

I hold on to His shaft. It’s thick and I grasp it in my tiny hand. It reminds me of the broom handle at home that I use to sweep the floor with as my father watched Asian soap opera on the television in the living room.

I smell the scent of His musky pubes. His pheromones linger in my nostrils and I think of the sweaty white athletes in my high school. How they all smelled of grown men while they were just teenagers.

I taste his pre-cum as I slid my lips further down his hard cock. It was thick and I can taste the bittersweet flavor. It reminds me of the bland congee my mother made for me growing up.

He calls me “chink”. And I’m reminded of all the white men I’ve met in my life. My teachers, my professors, my superiors at work, my supervisor, my thesis advisor, my boyfriends, my hook ups … all the White Men that have revealed to me my own inferiority as an asian woman.

Finally … I open my eyes. I look up to Him. My Master, my King, my God, my reason for existence. I see every inch of his thick cock extending from my lips all the way to his blonde bush. I raise my eyes, past his treasure trail and hairy chest, up to his thick neck and rough beard, and finally meet his blue eyes.

I lose myself in those deep blue eyes. Like an ocean threatening to drown me in my powerless position. Twin tidal waves making me gag and lose my breath. I am a chink lost at sea, and the White Man is my life-saver and my weight, lifting me up with his powerful hip and pulling me further down with his muscular hands, marking me with his urine over his property, handing my life over to Him as an asian bitch for White Men.

As I read through this little treatise, those words linger through my brain as they do trippingly on my tongue, I wonder to myself it’s amazing, it’s amazing that, despite of years of forgetting, running away, and relinquishing, I was never able to actually escape. In the end I come back full circle to surrender my fate, to prostrate and kneel before my white superiors and accept now, calmly, obediently, and silently, their reign.

Those thoughts, though they had briefly disappeared from the conscious level, continued to rankle beneath the surface, and in the course of time spun an elaborate web of resentments and vengeful syncretism of hidden motives which then burst upon my consciousness in the form of sexual exegesis.

Coincidentia oppositorum

If you had seen me in real life you would have no idea. In fact most people have no idea. They would have all assumed that I’m just another racist Asian woman who only dated Asian men. The white men who were interested once again would sigh and lament, “all the hottest Asian girls only date Asian guys.”

I look so normal. It’s what the wider society expects of me, and it’s what I conform to, in appearance.

The truth, however, is the exact opposite.

The superficial me is diametrically opposite to the real me that I have to restrain the impulse to give you my real name so I could google me and see what a chaste, pure, innocent and primp Asian lady that I really am. Or not.

Statu nascendi

By the time I was 18, I had already started sleeping around impulsively. I still remember the first time I sucked cock. He was a chubby white guy who later on went to Cornell for his Ph.D. I still remember the second time I sucked cock. It was on a Friday evening in a club full of young hot white guys. The rest is blurry now. The Asian guys who knew me from high school had by now all but disappeared. I was done with them. I had entered into the white club, the Ivy League of Ivy Leagues. I knew even back then, that for the next 10 to 20 years, the zenith of life lies within.

By the time I was 19 I decided that I should get paid for what I was doing. I believe I have written about my experience during this period already, but it’s never enough. I keep on reminiscing. I keep on remembering more details. Sometimes the details contradict what I had previously remembered. It’s like the four gospels in the New Testament. While every one of my account is all veritably true to my heart, somehow the details all keep on changing. I don’t know why.

All of a sudden now my thoughts were interrupted again. The image of a nerdy Asian guy from high school flitted into my memory. I remembered walking side by side with him as we went from the subway to school. And as we approached the flag pole in front of the school yard, we walked slower and slower, bumping into each other more, unmoored and dizzy in the crepuscular light. The Asian guy was ugly, short, and stupid. The mere image of him made me gag a little just now.

Counting from the age of 19 to now, I’ve had sex with over hundreds of men, all white men, obviously. I have fulfilled the sexual fantasies of so many white men that I’m actually proud. And I’ve done just about every depraved act in the dictionary: oral, anal, ass to mouth, foot jobs, rim job, blow job, piss play, choking, gangbang, etc.

By the age of 21 I decided that I would have sex almost exclusively with men over the age of 40. The oldest guy I had sex with and who was also my first husband was over 80 years old. I loved the difference between our age. It’s a bit like chiaroscuro. The contrast between us—young and old, white and yellow, smooth and wrinkled—felt exciting.

Were we humans to be robbed of this instinct of procreation and all that arises from it, nearly all poetry, all philosophy, and perhaps all science, would be erased from this world.

I’ve been told by a few men that I may be “sex addicted”. To them, they think it’s unnatural that a woman should be so hypersexual, especially given my high body counts and my numerous unsuccessful marriages. But I think I’m just addicted to life.

Summum bonum … losing my self in this rhapsodic dream of life

For all my life I’ve been addicted to white men and their beautiful BWCs. I love tasting BWCs in my mouth, inserting BWCs in my pussy, feeling BWCs in my ass, and playing with BWCs in all their multitudinous ways.

I love being gangbanged by BWCs, feeling their different sizes, different smells, different energies, and different personalities. Each white man is all so unique, so individualistic, and yet all so all so fascinating and so delicious.

But above all my own pleasure, I love the feeling that I’m giving pleasure to those white men.

My Asian body is a vessel, and my purpose is to be filled with BWCs and their cum.

But summum bonum, my yellow body is god’s gift to white men. It’d be very selfish of me to keep this gift to myself.

That is why I especially love gangbangs. I never turn down any white man who wants to fuck me unless he is rude, unclean or problematic in some way. When it comes to white men, my pussy has nearly perfect admission rate.

And when I’m not being gangbanged, I practice being airtight by using my dildos. I love stuffing all my holes with various things and pretend I’m being gangbanged.

Personally, I believe all Asian women are made for gangbangs by BWCs. Some are just living in denial.

I used to keep those views to myself, because I always felt this society is not yet open enough to accept them. But I feel more and more Asian women and white men are now embracing my idea. And I’m glad.

My ultimate goal is to encourage more Asian girls to go white only, spreading the joy and pleasure of being bleached. And this dream is actually bearing fruits, as more and more Asian girls are falling head over heels for white guys. It makes my heart feel warm, and I’m glad, because white men are pleased.

Confession of inferior Asian male series PART 2

Confessions of Inferior Asian Male #8

I’m an inferior Asian male who grew up in America. My parents immigrated from Korea when I was in middle school. I had a crush on this Korean girl in high school and later on we went to the same college. I wanted to ask her to be my girlfriend, but when I did, she blocked me on all social media, and blacklisted me on her phone as well.

Later on I found out she was dating this white guy. And this guy made her do lots of things that totally shocked me. I know the guy from facebook. He regularly bragged online about his adventures with his Asian girlfriend and recently even posted videos! I will just tell you three:

1- He once fucked her inside a movie theater. They went to the last schedule and chose the least popular movie, and once they were seated they began touching each other all over, and after a while, he took off all her clothes. She was TOTALLY naked as he fucked her.

2- They went a public park and got into the forest area. It started as a quickie but then he went crazy and undressed her completely. He kept his clothes on, just his cock was outside.

3- She went to a party with him and introduced her as “that Asian slut I told you all about”. He kissed her and touched her breasts in front of them. After they got drunk, they all started touching her. She ended up giving blowjobs to all the guys in the car.

The guy is also planning on starting an pornhub account and turning her into a amateur porn actress.

Confessions of Inferior Asian Male #9

My wife and I are Chinese. I’m 38 and my wife is 30. Even though we’ve been married for six years, we never had children. My wife said she did not “believe in having children.”

We’ve been living in New York for a little over two years now. Both my wife and I used to be school teachers when we were in China. After we came to America illegally, we found there were not a lot of job opportunities for us other than doing the most degrading and most basic manual labor jobs.

I work in a Chinese restaurant from 9 AM to 11 PM, and my wife works as an escort. A designated driver takes her to her customers’ place for work and she gets paid 100 dollars an hour. Occasionally customers come to our house and they have sex in the master bedroom next to ours. The rental property belonged to the pimp and his goons. A few times the pimp beat me for making too much noise. He once threatened to fuck my wife in front of me if I didn’t behave. The pimp is a Chinese man from Fujian and his goons told me they are members of the Fujian Triads.

I sleep inside a room that can barely fit a mattress and I can hear my wife having sex with her customers next door. Ever since she started prostituting herself, she stopped having sex with me. Which I don’t mind that much honestly. I work so hard I don’t have much sexual libido left at all. Another reason for our lack of sexual activity was due to this one time when we were trying to have sex and I was eating her out, I dug out a used condom inside her vagina, with another man’s cum still inside. Ever since then it became impossible for me to maintain erection while having sex with her. I still love her though.

Sometimes I get the urge to touch myself listening to her moaning with her customers in the next room and after her sessions I ask her about them. Listening to her recounting her sexual experience with other men always get me horny for some reason. Especially when she berates me for being a worthless man. Nearly all of her customers are white American men.

She told me: “All of my customers have bigger cocks than you.”

However, I was never able to ejaculate. During that time I felt like I had lost my sexual organ entirely. This is until what I’m about to tell you, which started a couple weeks ago.

I came home after work one day and noticed my wife was not there. Apparently she had gone out to meet her customers and she had forgotten to take her bag with her. I opened it and saw her bag was filled with condoms. In addition there were a few lingerie, a vibrator, and a pair of nipple clamps.

When she came back her designated driver carried her to our room. She was wearing a very flimsy red dress that barely covered her ass and one of her tits was actually exposed. She had heavy makeup on and there was gooey liquid running down her thighs. It was already 2 AM. I asked her how was her “work”. She told me she had amazing sex. Then I asked her if she used condoms because she had left her bag at home. At that point she told me: “He’s a regular. I never ask him to use condoms. Don’t worry.”

My heart sank to my stomach at this point. My wife always asked me to use condoms when we had sex because she didn’t want to have children.

A few days after that incident her “regular” showed up at the house and demanded sex with her. The pimp asked me to clean up the master bedroom. I had recently suffered back injuries and could not go to work, so the pimp made me do janitorial work around the house. I primped up their bed, mopped up the floor, and before I could get out, my wife had already brought her customer into the bedroom and we came face to face with each other. It was never supposed to happen. I froze in terror. The pimp would beat me again for this, I thought. And more than that, it was the first time I saw the man my wife was having sex with. He was an obese, balding American man. He towered over me and his belly was almost four times the size of mine. I repeated “sorry sorry sorry” as I hurried out.

I became obsessed with the image and I could not get it out of my head. After my wife came back to our room, I pestered her with questions. She said she let the guy cum inside her multiple times. I whimpered. I wanted to be angry, but I was in no position to be angry. She made ten times what I made, and I had the feeling that soon, she would be leaving me. I turned over in our dingy little room and cried. She made no response.

I knew in my heart, at that moment, that our life couldn’t possibly continue this way.

Fast forward to a day ago. My wife finally told me what I had been expecting all this time. She said she is leaving me and moving in with her “regular”, the fat, old, scurry white American man. She also said she is now pregnant with his baby, and they are going to get married. Because when we came to the United States, we tore and burned our Chinese passports and all other identifications, nobody know we are actually married. We are insects living in the dark corners of society, and she is about to metamorphose into a butterfly.

The entire night I lay awake. I couldn’t feel anger, even though I keep telling myself that I should. I actually feel happy for her. I know she will now lead a better life. I even start imagining that one day she will allow me to come live with her, in her big American house. I will be their personal chef. I will cook for them, as I do in the Chinese restaurant. I will paint my wife’s toe nails, massage her American husband’s feet, while they are having sex. That night, for the first time in almost ten months, I masturbated. I masturbated to the image of my wife having sex with her white American husband and afterward I ate my own cum. For some reason it just felt right.

This is the first time I ejaculated since coming to America, and it was to the image, with the knowledge, of my wife leaving me, and going to become the wife of an American man.

Confessions of Inferior Asian Male #10

We are an Asian American couple. Recently we thought we wanted to spice up our sex life a little bit and decided to venture into this sex club that we’ve been hearing about online. We were quite vanilla and this was our first time venturing outside of our comfort zone. We ended up in a room with 50 people who were all doing various things among themselves.

What really surprised me though was how wild my wife had become. I always thought my wife was a very shy person, like myself, but she quickly connected with this hung white dude and they started going at it. I was shocked. We were the only Asian couple, and soon almost all the attention was on my Asian wife and this white guy she just met. And they started fucking! A big crowd formed around them and some people even started joining them. I was screaming OMG she is being gangbanged and I was so horny. But the crowd was so big I couldn’t even see her anymore.

And then someone from the staff at the club came up to me and told me to leave because they thought I didn’t have a partner. The club had a very strict rule about not allowing single males coming in. I had to explain to them that my wife was in the middle of the crowd being fucked by multiple white guys.

I felt so humiliated and yet so turned on I honestly still don’t know how to process all this.

I feel so empty without white cocks.

Being a BWC slut is who I am now, or what is left of me. A broken, empty set of holes always burning with hunger for white men and their penises. 

The haunting void left behind by white men gets worse now. 

Some nights it engulfs me and tries to swallow me whole. Confessing my pain, my sinful lust for abuse and my concupiscence for degradation is the only way I can feel anything at all. It makes my mind go blank and allows me to drift into a serene, nameless happy bliss of ease. Some other times it makes me feel weightless, like a slowly ebbing and flowing stream rhythmically receding from the bank. 

It also makes me feel so naked. And so shameful. As if a thousand eyes were on me as they probe and prod into my life, digging and gnawing for more sordid details of my descent into depravity. Thrusting into me, yearning to do even more depraved things as they stretcher deeper and deeper into my flesh, my soul, more than what I’m permitting them. 

I don’t like this. I don’t want to be this broken, marked as if by monsters. I hear their words. Memories of their actions course through me. I will never be able to get away. 

I wish I was once again an Asian virgin, the virginal Asian girl who never knew the meaning of BWC, bareback gangbang, SM, double penetration, spitroasting, cum swallowing, piss drinking, etc. I feel disgusted with myself just now, knowing that all my holes have been filled to the brim with white meb’s cum.

I miss the innocent me. I miss the 18 year old me. 

I feel so estranged and unacquainted with who I am now. I miss feeling pure again. This doesn’t feel good. 

But it’s still better than nothing at all.

I found out my daughter is a BWC slut.

It was bound to happen. I was certain of that for a long time. But not in the way it happened. Nor in the way of how I found out.

As some of you might know (I mentioned it before in my previous posts), my daughter just turned 21 this year and is expected to graduate next year with a BA in physics from MIT. Her dream is to become an experimental physicist. She is applying to CalTech and Princeton for her Ph.D. Her undergraduate thesis is the probe, characterization, and diagnostics of hard x ray (in the keV range) via multilayer crystal mirrors using a terawatt laser which generates the plasma scattered on thin foil image plates that’s behind a micron sized solid target. And it’s going to be published in a very high impact journal. It’s the best description of what I understand she is doing and I’m probably fumbling it.

She is famous in her department because she is smart and beautiful. She is—and I feel so proud to say—beautiful just like me, but even more beautiful, because she has naturally blonde hair and blue eyes. You can still tell she is Asian though. She has mongoloid eyelids and her nose is tiny. Otherwise her dad had given her all the superior genes. I feel some day she will be very famous, famous like Elaine Gu. Of course I’m not going to show you a picture of my daughter you perverts. She is as pretty as a movie star, a little bit like the across between Kristin Kreuk and Britney Spears, I’d say.

And yes she is dating. She is actively dating a mathematician, a second year Ph.D. student in math at MIT, and he looks just like John Nash in that movie the Beautiful Mind. They are just so cute together. When they walk on the campus of MIT, they looked like the Aryan king and queen of the future who will dominate all the rest of mankind. And I feel so proud.

What I didn’t expect was that my daughter had been in a free use relationship with all the white men at her department. Most of her friends are men. For very obvious reasons. And all of them are nerds. Many don’t have girlfriends. So for the shy, nerdy white guys who don’t have a girlfriend yet, my daughter had been generous enough to offer them sex for free.

I only found out when I went to visit her at her apartment in Boston. I slept in an adjacent room and I told my daughter that I was going out to visit my boyfriend (who’s at Harvard) and when I came back I saw my daughter having sex with two handsome young white males in the living room, and neither of them was her boyfriend. I asked her if John is okay with it and she says he knows. She says they are in an open relationship. And she tells me that both of them are super smart geeks.

She also reassured me that she only does it for white guys with superior genes. I shrugged my shoulders. Like mother like daughter, I suppose.