Asian Real Estate Agent Stephanie Kwon

A successful Asian female real estate agent has deceived many people. She finally gets caught and then is turned into a sex slave. She gives up everything for a year to avoid being sent to prison and she is subjected to many humiliating training and painful torture.

Chapter 1

Stephanie Kwon sat at her desk in her real estate office at Oakland, California, going over some papers from a recent sale. Everything looked good to her and once again, she got her client a loan and sold the house. She made a good commission from it and which just added to her fortune.

She was barely 24 years old, a sexy beautiful Asian girl, intelligent and sociable. She was lusted over by men of every race. Since she has become a real estate agent at a prestigious firm, she has quickly sold a lot of properties and was well liked in her company. She became the company’s top producer and had just recently got her own private, plush office. Her next step would be to become the vice president of the firm and then, work toward taking over the whole company from the old white geezer who founded it. She was such a good agent, with a positive reputation. No one suspected her of doing anything unethical, even illegal. That is, until a man walked in and asked to see her. He said he wanted to buy a large piece of property, which had in fact been sold by Stephanie less than 6 months before.

The receptionist called Stephanie on the paging system and said a man was there to see her about this property. He said he would only talk to her and if she wasn’t available, he would go to another company to make the offer.

Stephanie heard all of this and jumped up, almost running to the main lobby to meet this man. She would do anything to make this sale and all she could see werr the dollar signs of what she would gain from the sale. She knew just how to market the property and also how to fix some documents if needed.

Stephanie came into the reception area, and introduced herself to the man standing there. He was a tall muscular white man, with a grey beard, and wearing rugged jeans. He introduced himself as Ron and said he was very interested in a particular estate, the largest one currently on the market. Stephanie knew about it and said that she could certainly assist in contacting the current owners and making an offer. Then she invited him into her new office. She just knew that she was going to make this work.

As they entered the office, she told the receptionist she didn’t want to be disturbed. That pleased Ron, because he had plans for this cheating little Asian bitch. Plans that would make her not only submit to his whims, but plans to make her submit to anyone he desired.

She asked him to have a seat as she got into the computer to bring up the property he had mentioned. She wanted to refresh her memory on the details of it and find the current value. Her mind was already working on different ways to fix the paperwork in her favor in order to make this important sale.

Ron sat and waited until she had her computer going and knew she had focused on the property. Unbeknown to Stephanie, Ron had known of Stephanie Kwon for some time, since she was the top agent in the city, and an extremely attractive Asian woman. He had been hired by the city’s largest bank to analyze all big sales before the final collapse.

Stephanie said, “OK, Ron, I have it all right here on the computer. I can tell you right now it is expensive, but I am sure we can make a deal. The previous buyer and I worked very closely on this sale, and for the right price, I am sure he will sell it.”

“Yes, I know it is expensive and yes, I can afford it,” said Ron. “But the question is, Stephanie, can you?”

She looked at him with a puzzled look, not really sure what he was talking about. She asked, “What do you mean? You are the one wanting to buy it, not me. I don’t have to be able to afford it.”

Ron laughed and handed her a large envelope. He said, “You’ll understand when you open this!”

Stephanie wasn’t sure what was on his mind nor what was in the envelope, but she took it and began to open it. Once it was opened, her eyes grew big and she kind of gasped for some air. Her hands began to tremble as she thumbed through the documents he had handed her.

She was speechless. It was all there. He knew. She tried to act confident.

“I’m sure you and I can come to some agreement on this. Let’s you and I split the 500,000 dollars and no one will be wiser.”

Ron said, “I don’t think so. Good luck. Enjoy your 20 years in prison.” And was about to leave.

Stephanie was near panic, but she realized something was being made available. “But then why did you come here first? Why not go straight to the bank and hand over your information?”

“OK, then look at the last page.”

The last page was an agreement, that basically said that she would do as he wanted, no matter what it was. She didn’t really know what he meant by that, but was soon to find out. She looked at him with a puzzled stare and asked, “Just what does this mean?”

Ron grinned and said, “It means just what it says, Stephanie. You will belong to me and do everything I say without question. It won’t matter what I ask for, you’ll do it.”

Stephanie’s mouth dropped open. “But what does that mean? Everything? You mean sex? What is everything?”

It was Ron’s turn to laugh. He repeated himself. “Everything means everything.”

She looked back at the documents in her hand and knew that if her boss or the authorities ever found out what she had done, she would definitely be in jail for a long time. And then she wouldn’t have a job or anything. She would lose her life style and everything she had worked so hard to get.

“So,” she said, “you expect me to do anything you want without question.”


“For how long?”

“One year.”

“What about my job?”

“Take a leave of absence.”

“Are you going to ask me to sell my house?”

“Anything is possible. In one year you will get your life back. You may not have many possessions at that time, but you will have your life. One year is a lot better than 20, I’m sure you will agree.”

“Can I think it over?”

“Sure. I will give you another 5 minutes.”

“Five minutes! But I need time to think about this!”

“And time to plan an escape from the country. I know you have family back in Taiwan. You could disappear into your old country, enjoy a year or two of vacation, get new documents, and be back in the U.S. with a different name in no time. No. Here is a pen. Sign it now, or I go straight to the federal authorities and this time tomorrow you will be in jail,” Ron asserted, and handed her a pen.

Stephanie knew she had no choice. As she began to sign her name, she paused one more time. She looked at him with tears in her eyes, knowing that a horrible darkness had just descended over her.

And she finished signing her name, handed Ron the documents, and slumped back in her chair.

“Fine,” he said. “Now, I suggest you type your letter for request of leave of absence, turn it in before leaving today, making any excuse you wish. Perhaps a sick parent in Taiwan, or something like that. Now, hand me the key to your house. I will be there at 6 pm. Be sure you are there. Obey all my orders or these documents will be immediately delivered to the police.”

“But …” There was no point in arguing. She had a spare key under the back door mat, anyway. She nodded her head in understanding. One year, one year, one year ran through her mind.

She wrote her letter, requesting a leave of absence. She couldn’t think of anything better than a sick parent, so she included that as her reason. She gathered her personal items, and made a list of things that her secretary needed to complete for certain deals currently in progress. She moved around her office in a state of shock.



Within an hour the shock had begun to wear off. She began to think of ways to protect her future. One year of being a sex slave was not the end of the world. The sale of her house could not be avoided, but she decided to transfer a significant portion of her accounts to a new bank, so that when a year was up, she would have money to restart her life.

She walked into the manager’s office and tearfully explained her situation. The tears and sorrow were real; the reason for the tears was not. But the manager was compassionate and hugged her as they departed. He said he hoped things would work out and that she would be back with them soon. She thanked him and left the office without speaking to anyone else.

The rest of the afternoon was spent opening a new account of $200,000 at a bank across town. She made arrangements that no monthly statements would be mailed, so even if Ron saw her mail, he would not have any idea that this account existed.

She placed some of her most important items, like jewelry and stock certificates in a safety deposit box in the new bank. She thought about ways to save her car and house, but she could not think of any solution.

She got home about 5 pm, took a warm shower, dressed in a relaxed way, with an attractive blouse, jeans and sandals. She turned on the TV, but could not concentrate. She was not hungry. she just paced around the house. She sent out a mass email to everyone in her address book, explaining that she would be gone for up to a year and the reason for it—her parents needed her.

Her stomach was in knots. The tears flowed easily. The clocked approached 6:00 pm.

The clock said it was now 6 and she still waited. He didn’t show up. Maybe it was just a hoax someone was playing on her. But those documents were real and she was sure it was all real.

About 10 minutes later the door opened. she knew is would be Ron. she just stared at him with hatred as he walked into the living room.

“Hello, gook slut. Aren’t you going to welcome me into our home?”

“Our home!” She shouted. “What do you mean our home. It’s mine!”

“Oh, but you are wrong, gook slut!” Ron answered back. “I now own half of everything you own and that includes this house. It’s in the contract.”

Stephanie grabbed the contract and began looking at it. At the bottom of the page in very small print, it said just that. She knew that she would be in big trouble now and may never get away from him. Maybe she should just go to jail and get it over with. But she quickly changed her mind, thinking of all the bad things that happen in jail.

She said, “Ok, so I didn’t read it.”

“Good girl”, Ron said, “Now I think you need to change those clothes. I brought what you are going to wear tonight.”

He tossed her a bag and it wasn’t very big either. She looked inside to see what it was and she thought she was going to faint. There was nothing but a pair of short denim shorts, that zippered up both sides of her legs and a skimpy tube top, which wouldn’t cover very much of her little Asian breasts. Finally, there were a pair a high-heeled, platform shoes, with clear plastic heals.

“I can’t wear these out,” she said. “You must think I’m crazy if you think you can make me wear them!”

“NO, I don’t think you are crazy, but you will either wear them or nothing at all. your choice, gook slut!”

“Don’t call me that! I’m not a gook nor a slut for you or anyone else!” Shouted Stephanie. She was trying to stand her ground, but shaking inside.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave then and go to the police!” Ron said as he started towards the door.

“No, wait, I’ll wear them and you can call me a gook slut if you want.”

“Good, now get dressed!” he ordered.

Stephanie took the clothes and started for her bedroom. She would wear them for now, but not for long. she would find a way to get out of this soon.

“Wait just a moment gook, I said to change into your clothes. I expect you to do it right here, right now!”

“i was going to my bedroom to change. i won’t run away.”

“No, here and now. Hurry up, we have an appointment to make!”

She just stared at him and was about to tell him no, until she thought again about prison. Slowly she stripped off her clothes and left her panties and bra on. Then she started to put the new clothes on. But he stopped her again.

“Take the panties and bra off, too. You won’t need them anymore. We are going to dispose of all your fancy lingerie very soon, but right now we have to hurry. Now strip, bitch!” Ron ordered.

Reluctantly, she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor. She didn’t even try to cover her tiny breasts. Then she reached down and began to pull off her panties. She got them below her pubic hair and then to her knees. She held her legs together and they fell to the floor and she stepped out of them. Then she quickly grabbed the shorts he had given her and started to put them on.

“Hold on,” he said, stopping her one more time. ” Spread your legs and let me take a look.”

she stared at him in disbelief, but did as he said.

“I don’t like that pussy hair. Go into the bathroom and shave it off. But leave the door open!”

Once again she started to tell him to fuck off, but thought better of it. She realized that for the moment, he held all the cards. She was his for one year and would do as he said to get through it, or until she could think of a way out. Dropping the shorts, she went to the bathroom. He followed a few moments later and she was sitting on the edge of the tub applying a shaving gel to her pussy.

Looking up at him, she said, “Can’t I at least do it in private?”

“No, you won’t do anything in private any more. you will do everything in front of me or anyone I say. I may only own half the house and half the car, but for one year, I own all of you.” His eyes bore into her soul as he spoke. She shuddered and lowered her gaze.

Stephanie picked up the razor and was going to shave her little black bush off. But once again she was stopped.

“Better yet, I will shave you and make sure it is as smooth as a new born baby’s ass,” said Ron.

“No way!” she yelled at him. He was going too far, now.

Ron stepped toward her and she was ready to fight. Stephanie wasn’t used to being told what to do but instead she told people what to do. She raised her hand with the razor, as if to hit Ron, but he grabbed it and twisted it around behind her back. Then he grabbed her other hand and did the same. He had the cuffs out of his pocket and onto her wrists before she realized what had happened.

“Now, that should keep you still, slut!” he laughed.

“No, you can’t do this to me. i won’t let you do it!” She cried.

“Such a mouth you have,” Ron said as he walked back into the living room and picked up her moist panties. He smelled the crotch and decided that the little cunt was really liking this. He could smell her sex in them and knew she had been leaking while she waited for him.

Walking back into the bathroom he saw Stephanie was struggling trying to get free from the cuffs. When she saw him walk back in, she stopped. She acted like a little girl with her hand in the cookie jar.

Ron walked over to her and said, “Open your mouth!”

“I will not!” She yelled at him, but that’s all it took. He grabbed her jaw, making a small opening in her mouth, and pushed the panties, crotch first, continuing to push until she had all of it inside.

“Mmmmmppppphhhhh,” was all she could get out.

“Now, let’s begin,” he said, as he picked up the razor she had dropped. “If you move, I might cut something very precious to you …”

He reached down and grasped a pussy lip, pulling it out a bit and giving it a slight twist. Stephanie moaned behind her gag.

He pulled her lips apart and out. “Looks like they will hold some rings real nice,”

“mmmmmmppphhhhhhh,” she tried to speak but couldn’t and her head was shaking back and forth trying to tell him no.

He flicked her swollen Asian clit to make his point.

Then he stuck a finger in her cunt and started shaving her pussy hair with his other hand. He used her pussy to control her and she was too scared to move.

Ron took his time to make sure he didn’t nick his money-making machine and when he was finished, he rubbed lotion all over her pubic area. But he continued playing with her pussy.

When he was finished with her pussy he also played with her nipples, making them stand out. “And some nice rings here, too,” he chuckled.

Then he uncuffed her hands with a warning that if she tried anything he would hurt her badly.

“OK, get dressed so we can leave!” he ordered her.

Stephanie Kwon walked naked back to the living room, grabbed the shorts and top and put them on. She noticed the shorts were a little small and hugged her crotch really tight, rubbing against her pussy lips as she moved. The top was also small and barely covered her little tits. She wobbled slightly on the high-heels.

Once she was dressed, he pulled the panties from her mouth with another warning. “Say anything out of the way and you’ll be sorry!”

“Here, prop this on your head,” as he handed her her sunglasses.

“Where are we going?” she questioned as they walked out the door.

“You need to expand your horizons,” was all he said.

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. I was born in Japan, my mother is Chinese and my father is Japanese, and my father's mother or my grandmother was German Dutch, and I came to the United States as a teenager and lived and went to school in Maryland, and worked in New York. I lived in fantasy worlds since I was a teenager and I have always done so, sometimes so deep in my own fantasy I forgot my own identity. I no longer knew who I am. Physically I look more European than asian. My father is of mixed heritage—he has white blond hair, but he also has some distinctly Japanese features. On the other hand my features mostly resembled my grandmother, who was a full blooded European woman. Which was not something that really bothered me. Actually most modern Japanese look very European compared to the rest of asians. My father was a sadist, and my mother, on the other hand, was, in my opinion, a masochist with no self respect. Growing up, seeing my father beating my mother was almost as frequent as having dinner, and when not beating her, she was constantly being humiliated and degraded, like having to serve dinner to him naked on her knees or being tied to an utility pole only in her panties during the winter. At first I believed my mother was a victim, a unfortunate human being in the hands of a cruel evil man, but as I grew older I realized that it was my mother who enjoyed being treated this way. The initial realization made me feel she was a disgusting, perverted, sick person, but as I grew older I began to have the almost identical sexual fantasies that my mother lived and experienced through. I began to think that my mother was the luckiest woman on earth since apparently she had found a man who understood her desires and could give them to her. My dad studied and worked in America before, and during that period he desperately wanted to marry a white woman, and vehemently pursued several white women, but was unsuccessful. At the same time Japanese women were unwilling to marry him. Maybe because just like him they were looking to marry into the white race, or maybe because he had sadistic tendencies. Out of options he settled to look for a Chinese woman. Statistically, marriages between Chinese women and Japanese men have been quite common, and I personally knew quite a few couples just like my mother and father. Even here in America I knew several Chinese women who had Japanese boyfriends and those women were actually quite proud of having superior Japanese men as boyfriends. Japanese in general look much more European compared to other asians and I suspect it was the putative European appearance that attracts other asian women. Of course Japanese are not Europeans, no matter how much we try to become European, just as Jews will never be fully accepted as White Christians. I think Jews and Japanese have a lot in common. We were both persecuted by Europeans, the Jews by Germans, and Japanese by Americans, yet we both come to love our white Masters. Jews weren't officially considered white until very recently, and I think as time progresses eventually Japanese will be categorized as white in the future, though Jews and Japanese will always know that they are still inferior to their Nordic Masters. But as always the Jews will be Masters over the Arabs and the Japanese will be Masters over the rest of Asia. There is no other meaning to life, other than the degree of domination. I had an older sister who looked fully asian, as opposed to me who looked much more European. And ever since childhood I have always known for a fact that I was treated better by everyone else because of my distinctly European appearance. In school classmates would be hesitant to tease me because they always thought my father might be an American or an European man even though they knew my mother was Chinese but somehow they still were afraid of me solely because of my European appearance. The thing was that in Japanese naming system, my mother's last name automatically gets attached to mine, so for example, my name in Japanese would actually be "Suzuki Liu Jennifer", because my mother's maiden name is Liu; this way everyone would instantly know my mother is Chinese. On the other hand my sister was bullied almost everyday by upper classmates because she looked very Chinese. They made fun of her hair and clothes and told her that she looked like a Chinese pig and I had seen boys pulling down her pants and laughing at her for having a "Chinese vagina". I was a very young girl back then and I felt ashamed of having her as a sister so in school I didn't talk to her at all. When I was 12 years old, she committed suicide by hanging herself in her closet. I know this because I was the one who discovered her body. My parents would have never told me about her death if I did not saw her dead body by myself. And ever since her death a dark cloud formed over my head and throughout my teenager years I was constantly harrowed by thoughts of suicide. It was not until I was much older that I learned suicide is infectious and that had been why I was constantly thinking about suicide. The realization made me try not to think too much about death, but no matter how much I try I can never get her image out of my head. Sometimes I feel she still haunts me because I didn't talk to her in school. My parents divorced when I was 14 and I went to live with my mom in China for two years. Contrary to popular beliefs, I had never experienced any form of racism or discrimination against me when I was living in China. Most people assumed that I was an European girl and the aura of being European seemed to make me inapproachable, like the shield of Athena covering me from head to toe. Even when I was in school, when classmates would know my father was Japanese because of my last name, I had never really felt any discrimination, though I did feel they were kind of afraid of me. I had never realized how much being White meant until I was in America: the symbol of power, domination, and superiority that being White implies. Being White is being the entelechy of all that is beautiful, good and righteous. Which is strange because my nationality still is, in actuality, Japanese and as I grew older I started to look more asian. My hair has gotten completely dark and my looks started to resemble my mother's. I used to have very light-colored hair, but I just felt fortunate that I do not look fully asian like my sister was. When I saw this image [of a naked asian woman kneeling next to a black furred dog] in a Japanese SM magazine a few days ago, all of a sudden I remembered seeing my mother in a similar position when I was maybe just 5 or 6 years old. It was not a pleasant experience; it was an extremely scary and traumatic experience, and growing up I heard constant moaning and muffled screams coming from my parents' bedroom. Every evening was a nightmare to fall asleep. But knowing that many asian women were treated the same way as my mother had been treated somehow made me feel better about my own family. At least my parents were not as weird as they seemed, and while growing up I had gradually come to realize that many asian girls have the same masochistic tendencies as I do, but many were just very shy and wouldn't admit their secrets. So it seems there are many masochistic asian women out there who thrives on been humiliated and degraded just like the girl in this image; I don't know why but this image made me feel kind of normal. I have lived in the States for nearly ten years now and I have not talked to my parents, who had divorced, for several years, especially to my mother whom I had some very severe arguments with over the years, especially when she remarried after she went back to China. I was more fond of my father though I haven't really talked to him that much either because he too had remarried. Despite all the mean things I had said about my dad, he was always very gentle with me and never beat me. He beat my sister and my mother but never me and I suspect he was much more gentle with me because of my more European looks. I felt their divorce was a punishment for me, as if they had abandoned me and I never felt comfortable with either of them or their new spouses, whether it be in China or in Japan. My mother's new husband was a very cruel and domineering white man living in China and he never treated me with the same special treatment I received from my dad. And I remember one time when I went out with him people on the street mistook me for his wife and I felt so disgusted I never wanted to go out with him again and then he would yell at me and yell at my mom. I am glad to have gotten out of there. And my dad ... well let's just say I couldn't bear to coexist with his new wife either. The last time we talked was already 3 years ago. This image had brought back so many long forgotten yearnings. I miss my sister and my parents. The memory of my sister and my parents started to fade away, like wavering forms they passed before my clouded sight; their images have become a blur rise about me out of mist and cloud; their faces, and their figures have become shades of phantoms; I wanted to hold you close to me in that blessed fleeting moment when you reappeared to me in my dreams. If only I possessed the strength to draw you near. I wanted to forever remember you—you bear the images of happy days; your airy smiles still stir youthful tremors in my breast—but my memory faltered. It would have been simpler if I were already dead. I would never be seized again by those long forgotten yearnings. I shuddered at those thoughts; and a tear draws other tears. Crying is my only form of release; through crying I am channeled to the solemn and silent world of spirits; crying is my whispered prayer that lingers in a vagrant tone. I have no one to talk to. I live in solitary confinement. I have been driven to madness even though physically I stay put. My life—full of dolor, pain and suffering. Sometimes I wish I could end it. The only reason I continue to live is for otherwise I lack the courage to carry out that final act, to take me beyond and step into the unknown. It is so much better to have been never born at all, or at least to die an immediate death. How sweet and wonderful death would be. My dear Aya, I am so very sorry! A vast space of nothingness in the empty universe fills my heart. Everyday of my life I live in terror because of you. A family dog Growing up, I always felt lonely. My family dog was my only companion. He was a slightly larger than a medium sized dog, with grey and dark fur, and a nozzle that resembled a wolf. He was so cute, so adorable, and he was my only friend. I often played with him in my desperate attempts to communicate with another living being, like Madame Bovary sitting by her fire place in a melancholic longing for escape. I want out!, out of this nonchalant prison of thoughts, out of this cruel alienated society, out of these mind forged manacles whose clanking I hear like looming madness; the marks of domestication on their faces, marks of psychological slavery, marks of intellectual death; they are mere automatons, inanimate objects, so lifeless like straw men, hollow men, stuffed men. I can't bare to look at those miserable beings' faces. In a domesticated dog I see more humanity than the entire humanity. If only my family dog can take me away! And I will elope with him to a happy place, where there is no more sorrow, no more dread, no more cold metallic prison walls of the mind. My family dog was my only friend, and he was my only confidante. To him I entrusted all my deepest secrets. Sometimes I wished I was a dog: no more worries, no more sadness, no more consciousness, no more thoughts, just the need to satisfy my most basic instincts, lying by my owner's feet, worshiping him and completely dependent on him. Sometimes I wish I could have another dog just like the family dog I used to have in Japan. And he will be my husband. I will belong to him. I will be his bitch. I will obey him, crawl under his belly, gently caress his furs with my soft hands, and please him like I would please my husband. And he will be my beast and I will be his beauty. Albeit he will be a gentle beast, always so obedient to me, and yet always so much more aggressive, and animalistic; he will protect me from harm, with his sharp fangs and naturally endowed muscles for chasing down his prey; and yet he will honor me and obey me like a lover would. He will never be jealous, never be angry, as long as he is fed and watered. He will be my best friend.

5 thoughts on “Asian Real Estate Agent Stephanie Kwon”

  1. This is some of the sexiest and racist shit I’ve ever seen in my life. Look at how these stories were fabricated by depressed unattractive white guys who were jealous of some asian girl and guy in their class going to Harvard while they stayed in white trash land. I guess when the only ass you can get is your sister, its human nature to hate the minority. But fuck, this is some perverted messed up shit. China was the world’s greatest civilization technologically for most of world history until the 13th century. It suffered from isolationism while europeans were desperate for natural resources and invented race fairy tales to justify the horrible shit they did to black people. The result is a white trash’s fantasy about girls wayyy out of their league. You faggots make me sick.

    1. Yeah, kind of reads like this was actually written by a man. The “voice,” to me, sounds like a man wrote it. The use of pronouns, etc. I haven’t read this particular story, but others I have.
      Q: What are you doing, reading it, and was your term “sexiest” purely sarcasm? I’m sincere in those two questions.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: