Adopted Asian Daughter Chapter 5

Chapter 5


Raymond did not quite know what to do about Jenna Wang.

It was nice having her at his beck and call, being able to bang her whenever he wanted, being able to slap her around now and then when he felt like it without worrying about her complaining to somebody. And she was useful for things like doing his homework for him and washing his car and stuff. But she was always wanting more. Wanting to be whipped, for instance. Well, he could whip her all right, and he did, but the trouble was that she liked it so much. It really wasn’t that much fun hurting a girl who WANTED to be hurt. It got boring. Besides, she wanted other things too, wanted to be mistreated in other ways, ways that were not just physical. Her idea of being his Asian sex slave involved things that he wasn’t sure how to bring about; him being a white man, he wasn’t as intricately trained in the slavery of Asian females. He realized dimly that she was giving him the opportunity to use her for anything his imagination could conceive of. But his imagination was not that fertile.

He finally decided to consult his father, Mr. Cohn, a white man who has lived for many decades in Asia and who spoke fluent Chinese.


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


“So you’re an Asian slave,” Raymond’s father said.

“Yes,” Jenna Wang said. Her voice was a little unsteady. Though she was fully dressed, she felt exposed under this white man’s steady, penetrating gaze. It seemed to bore right through to her soul. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly under the blue summer dress she wore as she stood before him.

“And you belong to my son. You are my White son’s shina slave.”

She cast a quick glance at Raymond, who was standing to one side. His father was the only one who was seated.

“Yes,” she said.

“And since you are evidently too much for my son to handle, he has passed you on to me. So now you are my shina slave, is that right?”

“Yes,” Jenna said. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes never left her. “Indeed,” he said. “Very well. Go into the kitchen and carve the words ‘chink’ on your arm.”

Jenna’s eyes got very wide. She stared at him, her face pale. “Wh-what?”

“I think you heard me, Jenna. The kitchen is through that door. In it you will find a chopping block and a meat cleaver. Lay your arm on the chopping

block, take the cleaver in your other hand and slowly carve the words on your arm. Then come back.”

Her mouth worked, but for a moment she couldn’t speak. “You–you’re crazy!” she gasped.

“You are not my shina slave,” Raymond’s father said. “Shina slaves obey. I have lived in China for many years. Get out of here.”

“But I–I–”

“Just get out,” Raymond’s father said. He picked up his newspaper and began to read.

Tears came to Jenna’s eyes, and she turned and fled from the house, sobbing.

“Damn it, Dad,” Raymond said. “You chased her away!”

“She’ll be back,” his father said.


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


Cindy was always nice to Chad now when they encountered each other at school. She was, of course, anxious to avoid giving her father a reason to discipline her for disobeying his instructions, whether or not that discipline might include a return visit from Chad himself. So whenever he saw her she spoke to him in a polite and even friendly manner, forcing herself to smile at him. Even in the presence of her girlfriends, who found her new attitude puzzling. She may have set them straight after the dance, but now she had reverted again, and she had no real explanation to give them. Chad found this pleasant, of course, but at the same time, ironically enough, a bit disappointing. He had vivid memories of the hour he had spent in Cindy’s room, and of what had happened there. His mind was full of images of her naked body, hanging so painfully, or writhing and convulsing in agony. He could hear the sounds of her screams, of her begging and pleading and crying, and he could recall the sensations of her breasts in his hands, her body against his, and her sweet sobbing mouth around his cock. Not surprisingly, he got hard every time he thought of these things; and even less surprisingly, he had a very strong desire to experience those sights, sounds and sensations again. And he remembered vividly how her father had said he would be welcome to come again if Cindy gave him any more sorrow. Which, of course, was why she was doing her best to avoid doing that. He began to wonder how far she would go.

It was difficult to find Cindy alone; she was usually surrounded by her girlfriends or various admirers and hangers-on. But he finally managed it one afternoon after the last class period, as she was heading from her gym class to her homeroom.

“Hi, Cindy,” he greeted her.

He thought he caught a brief flash of something in her eyes when she first saw him–fear? Anger? Hatred? Or all three. But it was gone in an instant, and her mouth curved itself into a smile. “Hi, Chad.”

“Talk to you a minute?”

“Um–okay. I mean, sure.”

He drew her aside. “You’ve been real nice to me lately, Cindy.” he began.

Her smile was strained, but it was there. “Well, of course, Chad,” she said.

“And I guess we both know why, don’t we?” Chad said. “Because your father told you to, and if you don’t he’ll punish you again. Maybe even let me punish you again. Right?”

Her hesitation was brief. “If you say so, Chad.”

“Yeah, I say so. But what I’m wondering is–well, just how nice to me

you’re prepared to be, you know what I mean?”

He saw the flash in her eyes again, but only for a second. “No, I don’t Chad. Not really.”

“Well, you obviously don’t want me to feel that you’re not treating me right,” Chad said. “You don’t want me to be able to tell your father that. So I’m thinking, if I want you to do some things for me–you know, personal things–you wouldn’t want to turn me down, you know? Because then I might feel bad. And that’s what you don’t want. Right, Cindy?”

He saw her swallow. But she still retained her smile, and her voice when she spoke was still pleasant, if a bit strained. “Listen, Chad,” she said. “I’m saying this nicely, okay? I don’t want to hurt your feelings, and I don’t mean to insult you. All right? But the fact is, I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to get sexual with me without my father’s permission. I’m telling you nicely, Chad. I don’t think he would like that.”

“Is that right?” Chad said. “Why would he mind? He seemed just fine with it the other night.”

The mention of the other night made her smile disappear. But her manner was still friendly enough. “That was because it was his idea,” Cindy said. “But this isn’t, is it, Chad? I don’t think he’d want you to make me have sex with you so he won’t punish me. I really don’t. You understand, don’t you, Chad?”

The memory of Cindy’s father’s words as he had left her house now gave Chad pause. But he hated to give up the idea of forcing Cindy to give him her body. “Well, I don’t know,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to get your father mad at me, for sure, but I’m not so sure he would object, Cindy. I’m really not.”

Cindy took a breath. “Do you want to take that chance, Chad?”

“Not really,” Chad said. “But I think we should find out how he really feels about it, Cindy. Don’t you? Then I would know which way to go.”

“How would you find that out, Chad? Are you going to ask him?”

“No,” he said. “You ask him, Cindy.”

She stared. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Chad said. “He won’t get upset if you ask him that, will he? You’re just trying to be an obedient daughter. And if you’re right, then you won’t have to fuck me. At least not unless he tells you too. And if you’re wrong, what have you lost? So you ask him, Cindy, and let me know what he says. Otherwise I’m going to feel very insulted.”

The flash in her eyes this time was definitely fear. “All right,” Cindy said. “I’ll ask him.”


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


“I’d like to ask you something, Daddy,” Cindy said.

Her father put down his newspaper. “What is it, Cindy?”

She took a breath. “Well … it’s about Chad. You–you know how you told me to be nice to him–treat him respectfully and all …”

“I certainly hope you have been doing that, Cindy.”

“Oh yes, Daddy. I am. I am, really.”

“Good. Then what’s the problem, Cindy?”

“Well, he wants…I mean, what I’d like to know, Daddy, is…is how far you want me to go. In being nice to him, I mean.”

“How far?”

“Yes. I mean, I know you want me to be friendly and not insult him or make him feel bad or anything, but–but do you want me to do what he wants, Daddy? I mean–everything he wants?”

Cindy’s father smiled. “I take it this young man is importuning you for sexual favors. Or I should say, further sexual favors.”

Cindy was looking at the floor. “Yes, Daddy.”

“And who can blame him?” her father said. “And as a white man, he expects you to grant these favors as part of your new program of enforced amicability, is that it?”

“Well, he–he asked me, and I–I said I would have to ask you, because of course I’ll do what you say, Daddy, but I thought you might not want me to–to have sex with him without your knowing about it, you know?” Cindy’s breathing was a bit ragged and her face was flushed, but not with excitement.

“I see,” her father said. “That’s interesting, Cindy. An enterprising young fellow, our Chad, isn’t he? I rather admire him. I’ll have to consider the situation. Perhaps talk to Chad about it directly. Why don’t we invite him to come to dinner tomorrow evening? Then we can all talk about it and see what happens. All right, Cindy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Cindy said, and she began to cry softly.


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


“Damn it, Ray, why are you doing this to me?” Jenna Wang said.

“Hey, come on, Jenna,” Raymond said. “I told you, my father says I can’t have anything to do with you any more. He says you’re a phony. He says–”

“Oh Christ!” Jenna said. “You know better than that, Ray. Haven’t I done everything you wanted? Didn’t I let you hurt me–hell, I begged you to hurt me! You know how it turns me on! You could do anything to me! You know I’m not a phony. I mean, Jesus, just because your father–god, he–he didn’t really want me to disfigure myself, did he? I can’t believe–I mean, that’s so– He didn’t mean that, did he, Ray?”

Raymond shrugged. “I dunno. He usually means what he says, all right. And you know what happened when you didn’t do it. You kinda blew your chance there, didn’t you? And you blew it with me too, looks like. Sorry, babe. It’s over.”

“No,” Jenna said. “No, Ray, please. I need this. I need to have this. Please.”

“Damn it, I can’t!” Ray said. “Why don’t you get somebody else? Hell, there’s lots of white guys around who like to hurt puny Asian girls, I bet. Find one of them to be his chink slave to.”

“It’s not–” Jenna started. Then she stopped, and went on in a lower tone. “It’s not the same,” she said. “I’ve tried. You don’t know. I need someone who knows. Someone who is really into it. Like I thought you were. Like–like your father is.” She shivered. “Oh god,” she said. “He scares me, Ray. He really scares me. But–but he–he makes me feel–”

“Shit, you hardly spoke three words to him,” Raymond said.

“I know,” Jenna said. “I can’t help that. I know what he is. And he

knows what I am. He knows, damn it. I need to be his, Ray. I need it like–like

air. I need it to live.”

“Well,” Raymond said. “You know what you have to do for that to happen.”

Jenna shivered again. “Yes,” she said. “I know.”


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


They ate dinner around the table in the Cohn kitchen. Cindy’s father sat at the head of the table, with Chad opposite him, and Cindy and Raymond on either side. Cindy was on Chad’s left, Raymond on his right. Cindy had prepared the dinner, which was delicious.

Throughout most of the meal they talked of general subjects. Cindy’s father guided the conversation, drawing Chad out and appearing to be interested in his life, his plans for the future and his opinions on the issues of the day. Chad was a little nervous, but he did his best to hold up his end of the conversation. Neither Cindy nor Raymond spoke very much. Especially Cindy. It was only when they had nearly finished and were sitting over their second cups of coffee that Cindy’s father brought up the reason Chad was there.

“So, Chad,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I understand you have been trying to coerce my daughter to fuck you.”

Chad swallowed. Raymond grinned, and Cindy looked down into her coffee cup. There was a brief silence.

“I–I’m not sure I would put it quite that way, sir,” Chad said haltingly. “I mean–it’s just that, well, since she’s been being so nice to me and all–”

“On my orders,” Cindy’s father put in.

“Yes, sir. I understand that,” Chad said. “So I just thought–well–”

“You thought you would see how far she would go in following those orders,” Cindy’s stepfather said. “Well, I can’t blame you for that, Chad. My adopted daughter is a very attractive Asian girl. Ripe, nubile and sexy. And of course she is a gook bitch and a gook sex slave, as all Asian women are born to be, as the cum dump for the superior white race. Isn’t that right, Cindy?”

Cindy closed her eyes, but opened them again quickly. “Yes,” she said flatly.

“Say it, Cindy.”

“I’m a gook bitch and a gook sex slave,” Cindy said.

“Yes. And of course, you have already sampled some of her charms, and it is only natural that you should wish to avail yourself of them further. The question is whether I should give you the authority to sample them whenever you please. This is not an easy decision, Chad. I generally prefer to keep Cindy’s coercion under my control, and to have it take place in my own house. You have no objection to fucking my gook daughter in my house, have you, Chad?”

“Well–no, sir. Not at all. I just–”

“Good,” Cindy’s father said. “Would you like to do it now?”

Cindy went pale.

Chad blinked. “Now?” His voice sounded strange.

“Yes, here and now. Stand up, Cindy.”

Cindy looked at her father, her mouth opening as if she were about to say something. But she evidently thought better of it. Her eyes returned to the table, and for a short moment she sat motionless. Then, slowly and not very steadily, she stood up. Cindy was wearing a blue dress with a lace collar. It fit snugly over her high round breasts and brought out the curves of her waist and hips, coming down almost to her knees.

“She looks good, wouldn’t you say, Chad?” Cindy’s step father said. “Extremely fuckable, don’t you think?”

“Yes I do,” Chad said.

“And would you agree with me,” Cindy’s father went on, “that her obvious reluctance–actually, repugnance–in the face of this situation, gives her an extra measure of desirability? That it acts as a further stimulus, as if any were needed, to the lust for her sweet young Asian body?”

Chad looked at her. She was holding on to the table as if for support, her knuckles white, her face pale and rigid. She did not look at him.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I–I have to say–Yes.”

“Then fuck her, Chad. Bend over, Cindy.”

A tiny sound, barely audible, came from Cindy’s throat. Then she bent over the table. Her father reached over and with a sweep of his arm cleared the dishes and other obstacles away from the surface in front of her. “All the way down, Cindy,” he said. “Raymond, hold her hands.”

Cindy closed her eyes as she lowered her upper body onto the table. Her brother caught at her wrists and pulled on them, holding her arms straight out in front of her, so that she lay flat against the hard surface, her face lying on the tablecloth, her breasts mashed beneath her, her rear end thrusting out sharply as she bent at the waist.

“All right, Chad,” Cindy’s father said. “Fuck her in the ass.”

Cindy gave a moan of fright and despair.

Chad’s mind was reeling. He felt himself suddenly thrust into a situation which he had never imagined. He had not expected to be fucking Cindy in front of her father and brother. He had never had sex with people watching before. Nor had he ever fucked anyone in the ass. But he couldn’t deny that his cock was hard, as hard as he could ever remember it being. And there was no doubt that Cindy’s horror and helplessness, as her white step father had said, was pouring gasoline on his already raging desire.

He stood up. He knew there was a very obvious bulge in his pants.

Raymond was grinning lubriciously at him as he kept up his tight grip on his Asian sister’s straining arms. Her father was watching calmly. He reached for the cream pitcher and placed it within Chad’s reach. “You can use this for lubrication,” he said. “Not as effective as some, perhaps, but I’m sure you’ll manage.”

Chad’s legs felt unsteady, but he moved behind the pinioned girl, his breath coming fast. He reached out to pull Cindy’s dress up, hoisting it to her waist and tucking it beneath her so that it stayed in place. Then he grasped the waistband of her panties with both hands and pulled them down, down over her magnificently curved ass, down over her smooth shapely thighs, down past her knees until they fell around her feet. His mouth went dry as he looked at her round bare buttocks, thrusting out at him and squirming slightly as her body tried to adjust to her uncomfortable position. He unzipped his fly to release his aching cock. Then, with a sudden boldness, he opened his pants completely and let them fall. He pushed his shorts down to his ankles also, and now he, like Cindy, was naked from the waist down.

He saw Cindy’s father nod slightly.

Chad put his hands on Cindy’s ass, thrilling to the feel of the smooth firm flesh of her buttocks. They twitched a little under his palms. Then with one hand he scooped some of the cream out of the pitcher and spread it into the crack of her ass. His breath became faster as he worked a cream-covered finger into her anus. Cindy gave a low, anguished groan and reflexively tried to squirm away, to raise her body from the table, but she could not. Her asshole was very tight and resistant, as though fighting him every inch of the way. He pushed his finger in as far as it would go, and listened with an unholy joy to the sounds she was making.

He withdrew his finger now and with both hands spread her buttocks wide apart, exposing that small anal opening, which with its spastic twitching almost seemed to be winking at him. He wasn’t sure he could actually fit his cock in there, but he was damn sure going to try. And he did.

Cindy’s groans got louder, and then turned into cries of pain as Chad pushed himself forcibly into that narrow passage. His head was spinning now, and he nearly forgot about Cindy’s father and brother as his cock tasted the warm clutching of her asshole. He had to work himself in slowly, inch by inch, and the resistance of her tightly clenched sphincter muscles almost made him despair of getting into her fully. But he pushed ruthlessly on, grasping her hips, pulling back slightly to batter at the obstacles she presented. Cindy was yelling now, her helpless body twisting with torment. Chad was relentless, and he felt a burst of triumph as with a savage lunge he breached her sphincter muscles and slid further into her spasming passage. Now, though she was still tight and narrow, the going was easier, and he thrust on and on until his cock was completely buried in her ass.

God, what a feeling! He had to struggle to keep from coming right then, because he wanted to last long enough to give that ass a good fucking. Cindy was sobbing now, between her cries of pain, and the sound was music to him. He looked down at her twisted face, which was turned to one side, her cheek lying against the table. Her black hair was plastered against the side that was visible, and he reached down and pushed it aside with a curiously tender gesture.

“God, I love your ass, Cindy,” he breathed, stroking her cheek. And then he brought a finger to her mouth–it was the one that had been in her ass–and traced her quivering lips with it. “Suck my finger, Cindy,” he said, and pushed it into her sobbing mouth. Then he began to fuck her. Between her sobs and cries and moans of anguish she wasn’t able to actually suck his finger, but he didn’t really care. The tightness of her ass as he pumped vigorously in and out of it, the squirming body bucking with pain as much as it could in its restricted position, and the astonishing fact that this was Cindy Cohn, the Asian goddess who despised him, that he was fucking in the ass, in her own house and in front of her step family, made him so hot that it was a miracle that he lasted as long as he did. Harder and harder he moved, joyously ravishing that tortured asshole, glorying in the sensations she was giving him and the agony he was giving her, until he couldn’t hold in any more and, with a cry, let himself fall on top of her bending body as he sent spurt after spurt of come up into her backside.

“Good,” he heard Cindy’s father say. “A good performance, Chad. I congratulate you.”

Panting hard, Chad slowly pulled himself off Cindy’s body and stood up, his now limp cock sliding slowly out of her ass. Cindy was still sobbing and moaning softly. Raymond continued to hold her wrists, keeping her as she was. He had obviously been aroused by watching Chad fuck her. Now he looked anxiously at his father.

“Dad?” he said. “Can I have her now? Can I have her mouth? Please?”

His father looked half exasperated, half indulgent. “All right,” he said. “I suppose so, if you must.”

“Oh, yeah!” Raymond said. He released one of Cindy’s arms just long enough to unzip his fly and take out his long hard cock. Then, grasping both wrists again, he pulled her toward him strongly. Cindy cried out as she was hauled across the table until she was lying on it full-length. Raymond continued to pull at her until her head lay over the edge of the table on his side, just above his lap. Then, grasping her hair, he forced her head down to him, feeding his erect cock into her sobbing, panting, moaning mouth.

“Oh yeah, gook sister,” Raymond groaned. “Oh god, that mouth! Do it, gooky, suck it for me. Come on.” He held her with both hands in her hair, twisting it painfully, hunching up at her face. Cindy’s sounds were muffled as she struggled to do what he wanted, closing her mouth around him, but she still cried out as he jerked her head up and down by her hair. “Oh shit, my big gook sister, I love this, keep it up, ohh yeah, god, sweet sucking cocksucking gook sister, take it, baby, take it all, take it NOWWWWWW….”

He held her hair tightly, preventing her from pulling away from his cock as he spurted into her. Cindy swallowed most of his sperm, but some of it spilled out of her still crying mouth. Raymond rubbed it over her face.

“Raymond is always so vocal, but at least he doesn’t take long,” Cindy’s father said. “Well, since you have pleasured everyone else this evening, Cindy, you might as well finish the job, don’t you think?” He opened his pants as he spoke. “Just turn this way, Cindy. And do try to stop crying. I do love to hear you cry, as you know, but enough is enough. Don’t you think so, Chad?”

“Actually, sir, I’d like to hear her cry forever,” Chad said boldly.

“Ah, a man after my own heart,” Cindy’s father said. “But as you get older, Chad, you will find that even the greatest delights tend to pall if they become too familiar. However, for Chad’s pleasure, Cindy, you may continue to cry if you wish.”

Cindy did seem to make an effort to stop crying, although it was not completely successful, as she slowly and painfully turned herself on the table in obedience to her white step father’s command, until she faced him as she had faced her brother, with her head above his lap. “All right, Cindy,” her father said. “First tell me what you are.”

Cindy stifled a sob. “I–I’m a gook bitch and a gook sex slave,” she said brokenly.

“Good. Now you may proceed.”

Cindy lowered her head to his lap and took his cock in her mouth. She sucked him for a long time. Her father seemed to have the ability to hold out for as long as he wished to, and to come only when he decided the time was right. Cindy still gave out the occasional sob or moan as she sucked him, but she never stopped. Her father directed her performance by murmuring softly to her whenever he wanted her to go faster, or slower, or to use her tongue more, or to stop and lick his balls, and so on, and she of course obeyed every instruction. When he finally came down her throat she swallowed every drop.

“Thank you, Cindy,” her father said, zipping up his pants. “And now I have come to a decision on the question that you asked me. Chad seems to me a fine young fellow, Cindy. His…shall we say, affection for you is obvious, and I believe he is indeed qualified to assume a certain amount of authority in my absence, where you are concerned. So the answer is yes, Cindy. When you are outside this house you will do anything Chad asks you to do. Anything and everything. To put it more plainly, Cindy, you will fuck for him any time he wants. Any time, any place, and in any manner he wants. Do you understand, Cindy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Cindy said. Her voice was very small and tight.

Watching Cindy suck off her white step brother and white step father, as well as hearing her father’s decision in his favor, had made Chad hard again. So, at her father’s order, Cindy sucked him off too before he left the house.


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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