Simplicial introduction to the new dawn

A few weeks ago my white boyfriend with whom I have been with for the last three years had found out about a private bdsm gathering dedicated to “the humiliation of asian women by white gods”—that was the name of the gathering.  Even when I just heard the name of the gathering being mentioned my heart jumped to my throat, and my boyfriend was expecting to bring me to the event and induct me into this “new society”. The entire week I was restless, anxious, basically a nervous wreck.  I couldn’t sleep at night and I couldn’t concentrate on my work and when my clients talked to me I was absent minded.  As that Friday approached my heart was knocking at my rib cage nearly every second.  I was extremely scared and yet excited beyond the bounds of my endurance—I had always tried to build a facade of order and elegance to hide the sordid tides of my inner life, and to waylay against those secret cravings that I fain would rather never admit in public, the urge, the need, the burning desire to be dominated and humiliated, those sick and unhealthy desires of my sick mind, and now …. My futile struggle against myself. The powerful recurrence of tides within me sought out my own destruction, from without as from within like a thousand natural shocks that my flesh is heir to had thronged and jostled fiercely against my crumbling defense, drowning me again me and again in a sea of sorrow and unfulfilled longings and yet I never die. The shadow of my dreams cast over me as my ultimate humiliation date loomed close, when my real self would be exposed in front of the world

The he car ride was a seasick experience and as we were nearer our destination my flesh burned to appease those fierce longings that were ready to burst out of my chest. I cared little about anything else; my life—a tissue of subterfuge and falsehood without this final realization.  At that moment, beside the savage desires which I brooded on for days and nights nothing else mattered.

We went into a gated community and on the private lawn I witnessed the most eerie scene up to that point in my life.  There were over hundreds of people, all white men dressed in suits, and next to each white man were naked asian women kneeling by his side.  Whereas the white men all wore black suits and were of all shapes and form, some bald, some short, some old and ugly, some young and handsome, some fair haired and bespectacled, some big bellied and moustached; and the asian women, were all naked, young and slender, smiling and kneeling with grace. I felt ashamed and degraded just being there.  I am not a cheap asian whore like the rest of them.  I went to a prestigious college and worked in finance.  But to my white gods, I am just another cheap asian whore eager to be dominated by the master race, the white race of gods.

“We celebrate, in this hour, the founding of our new society. It was only yesteryear that we had our first meeting and yet in just one year we have gained over a thousand new members, world wide. The great conflagration within everyone’s heart had no where to see its exhaustion, so we rejoice once more at the recurrence of this happiest event of this long year’s passing and the commencement of the victory of this night.” A booming voice was overheard over the podium. He was a lanky old man with white hair and stooping shoulders. His face was wrinkled and the drooling skin dropped over the necktie he was wearing. Next to both sides of his were two young beautiful women, both asian, naked and bound in hemp rope, kneeling on the wooden platform, their hands behind their backs, their long silky hair up to heir naked shoulders.

“True, our victory is but trifling, and the day will remain in the ascendant yet a while, but its oppression is breaking, and its weltanschauung and value-judgements in tatters.  The night shall fall and a new beginning shall come—night’s victory shall be seen by all.”

As I had just stepped out of our car my boyfriend had violently stripped me out of my dress and pushed me down on my knees, like one drop of urine I merged with that sea of asian women kneeling and crawling on the grass lawn. “A new beginning.”—my flesh melt, thawed and resolved itself into a dew as I heard that phrase. The lanky old man was sanguine and cheerful and he yelled to us: “James!” That’s my boyfriend’s name. “Come over here.  I see you brought your girlfriend over.  Let her speak.”  He was referring to me.  I didn’t really think I was going to become the herald of a new beginning.  I was just kidding for god’s sake.  If I were not kneeling at that moment, I would have knelt down from the weakness of my knees anyway.

Author: jennifer suzuki

I have been a very confused—some might say very conflicted—girl ever since I can remember and I have always lived in a fantasy world of my own making.

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