Adopted Asian Daughter Chapter 3

Chapter 3


She approached him after the last period at school, the Monday after the dance. The story of how he had been Cindy’s date at the dance, and how she had acted toward him, had gotten around, and he had already noticed that some of the guys, and some of the girls too, had been looking at him a little differently. People greeted him in the halls who had never bothered to greet him before. Some of the boys he was friendly with asked him about Cindy–how he had managed to get a date with her, what she was like, how come her attitude toward him had changed so much, and, of course, how far he had gotten with her. To all the questions Chad just shrugged and smiled and said stuff like, “Hey, I’m a bad dude, what can I tell you?” It made him feel terrific.

He wasn’t exactly friendly with Jenna Wang, but she was in several of his classes, and they had worked on a science project together and gotten along okay. He had even thought about asking her out, but never had, although unlike Cindy, she had never put him down or made him feel inferior in any way. She didn’t have Cindy’s radiant beauty, but she was attractive enough, for an Asian girl, with long dark hair, dark eyes and a body that was slender but well-rounded in the right places. She didn’t have a boyfriend, but she had the vague reputation of having been around, of being experienced. That was one of the reasons Chad had thought about asking her out, and also probably one of the reasons why he hadn’t done so.

She caught him at his locker as he was packing up to go home. “Hi, Chad,” she said.

He was surprised. “Hey, hi, Jenna. How you doing?”

“Pretty good. Talk to you a minute?”

“Um…sure. I’m just leaving. You leaving?”

“Yeah.” They walked toward the main door together.

“So I saw you at the dance with Cindy Cohn on Friday,” Jenna said as they left the school.

“Oh, yeah.”

“You two seemed to be getting along great. I mean, hey, she was all over you.”

Chad shrugged, blushing a little.

“I didn’t know you were such a stud, Chad,” Jenna said.

He wasn’t sure what to say. This wasn’t like the guys questioning him, this was different. He wondered if Jenna was jealous. No, probably not. Just curious or something. “Hey, come on,” he said, trying to sound modest. They were at the bottom of the school steps now. “Hey, listen, Chad, could you give me a ride home?” Jenna asked. “Phyllis is out today and I usually ride with her, and I don’t really feel like taking the bus. Can you?”

“Oh, sure,” he said. “Sure, come on, my car’s over here.” They began to walk toward the parking lot.

When they were in the car Jenna said, “Wait, Chad, don’t start yet, okay? I want to talk to you.”

He turned to her, puzzled. “What’s this about, Jenna?”

“It’s about Cindy. I want to know what’s going on with her. I mean, I’ve seen the way she usually acts with you. Just like she acts with most guys–most people, really–mean and nasty, right? And with you maybe even more so, because you’re–well, she thinks you’re a real jerk, right? A white dweeb. At least she did. And now all of a sudden she goes out with you and she acts like she’s crazy about you? Come on. It doesn’t make sense. And I want to know the real story.”

Chad was taken aback. “I don’t–I mean I don’t know what–I mean, she just–”

“She just what? Did she find out you have a real big white dick or something? Is that it? Because I don’t know what else would make an Asian girl like her–Do you, Chad? Do you have a big one? Come on, you can tell me.”

“No! I mean, I–Christ, Jenna! I mean it’s not small or anything, but it’s just a regular–oh shit. What are you–what do you–”

“Show it to me,” Jenna said.

Chad stared at her.

“I mean it. I want to see it. It has to be pretty good to turn Cindy around like that.” She looked at him intently. “Or is it something else?” she asked.

“What do you mean? And hey, why are you so interested in Cindy, for god’s sake? Why do you–” A thought suddenly hit him. Maybe she was jealous, not of Cindy, but of him. “Hey, you–are you hot for her or something? Jenna? Are you–I mean, you like girls or what?”

“No!” Jenna said. “No, I don’t, Chad. That’s not it. And,” she added after a pause, “if you show me that cock of yours I’ll prove it to you.” She paused again. “And if you tell me about you and Cindy.”

Chad’s cock started to get hard.

“But–but why, then?” he said weakly.

Jenna tossed her head impatiently. “Look,” she said. “I heard some things about Cindy once, okay? Some stories. I don’t know how true they are, but when I went to visit my uncle in Ohio last summer, I met somebody who knew her at the last school she went to, before she moved here. He told me–well, it might have been bullshit, I don’t know. But I want to find out. I really want to find out, Chad. So tell me what’s going on here, and you won’t be sorry, okay?”

Chad swallowed. “Jenna, Jesus,” he said. “I can’t–I mean, even if I had anything to tell you, I couldn’t–but there’s nothing …”

“Well, it must be your big white cock then,” Jenna Wang said. “Take it out for me, Chad.”

Chad stared again. “Right here?” he said. “Are you crazy?”

“Most everybody’s gone by now,” Jenna said. “Nobody’s gonna see us here.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m going to take you home,” he said, and he put the key, which he had been holding in his hand, into the ignition.

Jenna reached over to his fly and pulled down his zipper.

“Jesus!” Chad said. But he didn’t stop her.

Her fingers dipped into his fly and quickly pulled out his cock, which was throbbing into complete erectness under her touch. Chad looked around wildly. There was no one in sight, and the parking lot was behind the school building. He could only hope nobody came along.

“You’re right,” Jenna said. “It’s not huge or anything. It’s not bad though.” Her fingers stroked him. He stiffened.

“Jenna, for god’s sake. Listen, I can’t tell you about–I can’t tell you anything. Okay? I’m sorry. I–I promised, okay?”

Jenna shifted on the seat, getting her knees under her and crouching over him, lowering her head so that her mouth was close to his penis. She blew on it softly. He felt her warm breath.

“You can tell me, Chad. I won’t tell anybody. I just have to know. Tell me, Chad.” She breathed on his rod again. Chad moaned.

“For Christ sake, Jenna…I can’t…I promised…please…”

Jenna stuck out her tongue and, using just the tip, very gently and slowly licked the underside of his cock, from base to tip. Chad let out a hoarse groan and his bottom arched off the seat.

“I’ll do anything you want, Chad,” Jenna whispered. “Anything. Just tell me.”

Chad was only human, and he didn’t get a lot of chances like this. He told her.

Jenna listened to every word, her fingers stroking his cock, her mouth still close enough for him to feel her breath. That breath became more and more rapid as his story went on, until when he finished she was actually panting.

“Oh god!” she breathed, raising her head. Chad saw that her eyes were gleaming strangely. “Oh Jesus god. It’s true. I-Oh Christ. Chad. Christ. Move over.” She was tugging at him, urging him out from behind the steering wheel. He slid over on the seat, and as he did so Jenna reached under her skirt and pulled down her panties, hastily working them off over her feet. Then she pulled her skirt up to her waist, and he was able to get a quick glimpse of dark pubic hair before she was on top of him, straddling him, her hand grasping his white penis and guiding it into her Asian beaver, which was damp and ready. He gasped loudly as she slid down over him, taking him in until he was buried inside her and she was sitting on his thighs. Immediately she began to move, hunching herself up and down, her ragged breathing loud in his ear.

“Oh god,” she moaned. “Oh god…oh yes…oh do it…oh god…they did that to her…they beat her…they made her suck their cocks…oh Christ…her white step father…. Jesus… Ohhh…unnnhhhh….aahhh….”

Chad, totally unprepared for this passionate onslaught, had a struggle to keep from coming almost immediately. Though he succeeded, he knew he couldn’t last long with this moaning, writhing, twisting girl humping away so abandonedly on top of him. When the first paralyzing shock of her attack had passed, he reached for her blouse and pulled it open, careless of the popping buttons. Her brassiere hooked in front, and he managed to get it open in spite of the eager clumsiness of his hands and the bouncing and twisting of her body. Her full round breasts filled his hands, and when he pulled her to him and sucked one of them into his mouth, Jenna screamed and climaxed. Her wildly spasming vagina took him over the edge as well, and he shot his seed up into her twisting body. They rested for a moment, panting hard. Neither of them said anything. Then Jenna slowly and carefully pulled herself off him and settled herself back on the seat, reaching down to find her panties and slip them back into place. Chad stuffed his sticky cock into his pants and zipped his fly, looking around apprehensively to make sure they were still unobserved.

“Okay, Chad,” Jenna said. “You can take me home now.”


# # # # # # # # # # # #


Raymond Cohn, Cindy’s stepbrother, had just come out of the boys’ room during the lunch hour when Jenna stopped him.

“Hi, Ray,” she said.

Raymond scowled at her. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m Jenna. Jenna Wang. I’m a sophomore. I’m–I know your sister. I mean–sort of.”

“So what?” Raymond said.

“Well, I’d–I’d just like to talk to you for a minute. Okay?”

“I gotta go eat,” Raymond said.

“But you might find this interesting, Ray. It’s about Cindy, okay? Cindy and–and you.”

Raymond frowned darkly. “What about Cindy and me? What are you talking about?”

Jenna took a breath. “Listen, Ray. Just listen, okay? I’m not–I don’t want to make any trouble, all right? I mean it. That’s not what–”

“Hey!” Raymond said. “What the fuck are you getting at? You think you got something to say, fuckin’ say it, okay?”

“Okay. Okay. Just let me–it’s just that I–I’ve heard…things…that I’m–that I want–”

“Things?” Raymond looked around. There were only a few people in the hallway, most of the students being in the cafeteria or eating their lunch outside. He took Jenna’s arm and drew her to one side of the corridor. He opened a door and pulled her into an empty classroom, then shut the door behind them. “Things?” he repeated. “What kind of things? What the fuck you mean?”

“Well, things,” Jenna said, a little breathlessly. “I mean, interesting things. Stories. About–about you and Cindy…and…and your father…and what you…”

Raymond was staring at her, his eyes burning. Suddenly he grasped both her arms, clutching them tightly, and shook her slightly. “Bitch!” he exclaimed.

“You fucking gook bitch! Who–what are you–”

Jenna gave a low cry of pain, then began to breathe heavily. “You’re hurting me,” she gasped. But it wasn’t a complaint. “You’re hurting me.” It was a moan. Of pleasure.

Ray only dug his fingers harder into her arms. “Ohhh,” Jenna breathed.

Her eyes closed. “Ray,” she gasped. “Ray….” Her body arched toward him, only his grip on her arms keeping her from pressing herself against him. Raymond scowled at her. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” He flung her away from him, and she stumbled back against the wall. “Are you some kind of freak? You get off on being hurt, or what?”

Jenna Wang crossed her arms in front of her, her hands rubbing the places where Roy’s fingers had bruised her flesh, rubbing them hard. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Ray,” she said breathlessly. “If you’ll just listen. Those things you do to Cindy…hurting her…” Her voice got hoarser. “Whipping her…”

“Goddam it!” Raymond lunged toward her and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back brutally. Jenna cried out. “Who told you about that?” he shouted. “Who the fuck told you?”

“Ray…” Jenna’s voice was full of pain, and of passion, but Raymond did not notice.

“Tell me, goddam it! Was it that Chad Rosen asshole? I’ll kill him.”

He yanked harder on her hair. “Was it?”

“Aaahhh! Yes!” Jenna cried. “But I–I made him. It was my fault, Ray. Honest!”

“I’ll kill the fucking bastard,” Raymond repeated. He let go of her hair now and pushed her away. Jenna was panting hard, letting out little whimpers between breaths. Her hands reached for him now, scrabbling at his trousers. “Ray,” she moaned. “Ray, please. Let me–” Before he knew what was happening she had pulled down his zipper and released his cock.

“What the fuck–” Ray said, but her mouth was on him now, taking him in, devouring him, and her lips were sucking him up and down, her tongue stroking the hardening flesh, her throat producing a series of muffled moans, whimpers, gasps, and mewling noises as she took him deeper and deeper. Her hands clutched at his buttocks, trying to pull him still deeper into her frenziedly sucking mouth.

Raymond, in the midst of the incredible pleasure her mouth was giving him, came dimly to realize what was happening. This Asian cunt also got off on being hurt! To test this theory, he took her hair in his hand again and twisted sharply. Her mouth opened to let out a shriek of agony; but a moment later, although he did not lessen his grip on her hair, she was sucking him harder than ever, her moans louder, her movements more wild. Within a minute Raymond let out a roar and shot his cum uncontrollably into her throat, still not letting go of her hair. Jenna Wang swallowed it all down and sucked for more. Even after he had given her everything he had, she still kept sucking on his softened cock, moaning and gasping and clutching him to her. When at last he pulled away from her and stepped back, releasing her hair, she fell to the floor, taking in great rasping breaths, her body still trembling with passion. “Jesus H. Christ!” Raymond said. “Fuck, you give one hell of a blowjob, girl, but what the fuck is your problem?”

“Please–” Jenna gasped, almost sobbing now. “Please, Ray–oh god, please…”

“Please what?” Raymond demanded. “What is this all about anyway? What the hell do you want?”

Jenna lowered herself further against the floor, her body writhing, literally grovelling at his feet.

“I want to be your Asian slave, just like Cindy.” she said. “All gooks are meant to be enslaved by white gods.”




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.

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