Adopted Asian Daughter Chapter 9

Chapter 9


After her conversation with Chad, Rachel Harris went straight to the principal’s office. She couldn’t get in to see Dr. Dalbeck, who seldom spoke to the students anyway, and when she tried Mr. Trask she was told he had gone home early. She wondered if she should go to the police, but she decided she didn’t really have enough information for them to be interested. She would talk to Trask the next day.

It wouldn’t have done her any good, because by then Trask had received a small packet in the mail. It contained a copy of an audio tape on which was recorded the whole of his encounter with Cindy in his office. Along with an anonymous letter stating that if he didn’t want the tape sent to the newspapers he would have nothing more to do with Cindy Cohn, or any of the other students for that matter; and in addition, any further sexual goings-on among the student body that might come to his attention were to be ignored as a matter of policy.

Trask didn’t bother Cindy again.

Rachel, however, didn’t actually approach him at all. Because that afternoon, on her way home from school, she was picked up on the street by two men, one black, one white. They forced her into their car with a swiftness and expertise efficient enough to attract little or no attention, and she found herself sitting between the two in the front seat, the black man driving. They drove her to a deserted spot in the woods outside the town. There they got out, taking her with them. They didn’t spend as much time and trouble with her as they had with Armina Banks; the setting was less comfortable, and Chad would not be joining them this time. As soon as she was out of the car the black man punched her as hard as he could, without warning, in the solar plexus. Rachel fell to the ground and they watched her as she rolled around there, clutching her belly and making choking, gurgling sounds as she struggled to get her breath back, which took a long time. They watched her skirt ride up on her twisting, flailing legs. As they watched they pulled down their zippers and took out their hardening cocks. They didn’t bother with the rest of their clothing———

After that they told her what she was going to do at school the next day. And in the days to follow. Then they took her home. They had even brought along a new dress for her to wear.

The next day, Rachel found Chad once again in the cafeteria. She sat down opposite him. She looked pretty good. She had covered up a couple of bruises with makeup, and she wore a high-collared blouse to cover the marks that the rope had left on her neck.

“Hi, Rach,” Chad greeted her.

Rachel swallowed. “Chad,” she said then, “I-I want to apologize for the way I spoke to you yesterday. I’m really very sorry, Chad. I’m–Of course I would love to have sex with you. It would–it would be an honor, Chad. I’ll be happy to have sex with you any time you like.”

“That’s good, Rachel,” Chad said. “That’s very nice indeed. And you’ll do it any way I want, right?”

Rachel swallowed again. “Yes, Chad,” she said.

“Yes. And you’ll do it real good too, right, Rachel? You’ll be just as good as you can be for me, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Chad,” Rachel said.

“Good,” Chad said. “Why don’t we start now.”


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


When Raymond’s father came home, he knew almost instantly what had happened. One look at his son’s quasi-innocent but self-satisfied face told him that Raymond had been up to something, and he suspected what it was even before he went into the kitchen and saw Jenna, who was still cleaning up. There were marks on her face and body that hadn’t been there before, and as soon as she saw him she began to tremble. Without a word, he marched back into the living room, went up to where his son was sitting and without warning backhanded him a savage blow across the face. Raymond cried out and tried to stand up, but his father hit him again. Raymond put up his hands to shield himself, cringing.

“You have deliberately disobeyed me, Raymond,” his father said. “I will not tolerate that, and you know it. How dare you go against my orders?”

“Dad, I was just–I mean, I couldn’t help it. It was her–she wanted it, Dad, and she begged me, she … I couldn’t …”

“You are contemptible,” his father said. “I am ashamed to think you are my son. You will be punished for this, Raymond. And you have lost any privileges you may have enjoyed in this house. From now on you will have nothing to do with Yellow Piss, or with Cock Sucker, or with any other Asian female under this roof. Including your sister. You will never touch any of them again. Is that clear? I have always instilled in my philosophy that every white man should have a few Asian slavesm, but you are not fit to be my white son.”

“But-but Dad…” He started to protest, but he could see in his father’s face that it was no use.

“Yellow Piss,” his father called. “Come in here.”

Jenna came in. She was still shaking. She quickly assumed the kneeling position.

“You have violated my trust,” Raymond’s father said. “You can no longer be my slave. You will have to leave here at once.”

Tears sprang to Jenna’s eyes, and she gave an involuntary cry. “Please, sir,” she whimpered through quivering lips. “Oh god, please don’t send me away.

Punish me, do anything to me. I didn’t mean to–I would never–I swear–”

“I realize that this violation was not completely voluntary on your part,” Raymond’s father said. “Nevertheless, it should not have happened, and I cannot condone it. Furthermore, no punishment would be sufficient to atone for this.”

“No…” Jenna wailed. Trembling harder now, she went to all fours and crawled across the room to him, sobbing, until she was crouched at his feet. “I beg you, sir,” she choked out. “I am your slave, I belong only to you. Oh, please let me stay with you. I will do anything. Anything…” She was crying too hard to continue.

“Indeed,” Raymond’s father said. He stood there looking down at the huddled, shaking, spasming figure, saying nothing more until her sobbing gradually subsided and her tear-streaked face turned up to him, her eyes red and fearful. Then he pulled down his zipper and took out his dangling penis. “Drink this, Yellow Piss,” he said. Jenna immediately raised herself on her knees and put her mouth around the flaccid phallus. Raymond’s father pissed strongly and steadily into her mouth, and Jenna expertly swallowed it all down as it came, in spite of the occasional residual sob that escaped from her mouth.

“Do you remember,” Raymond’s father said as he relieved himself, “when you first came to me, begging to be my slave, do you remember what it was that I asked you to do in order to prove the strength and extent of your desire? An action which at first you were unable to carry out, but which, when your overwhelming need for captivity and degradation compelled you to return, you then agreed to do. Do you recall that?”

Jenna’s face went pale, but she did not stop swallowing his piss. She made a sound around his cock, a sound that was both an affirmative answer to his question and a frightened reaction to it.

“Of course you do,” Raymond’s father said. “And when I, at the last minute, rescinded that demand, did I not inform you that I might, if circumstances warranted, renew it at some future date?” He finished pissing, and Janna dutifully milked the last few drops from his penis and cleaned off the tip with her tongue before letting it drop from her mouth. “Did I not?” he said.

Jenna swallowed once more, even though there was nothing left in her mouth to swallow. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“And now the time has come,” Raymond’s father said.


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


“Okay,” Chad said. “We’re doing pretty good here, Cindy. Let’s see, so far I’ve had you–” He reached out to tweak her nipple in appreciation–“then cute little Sallie Jing. Then Norma Veney, the gorgeous chink lesbian with the big tits. Then that cunt gook bitch Armina, and now even your best friend Rachel has come around. That’s not bad, Cindy, I have to admit you’ve done pretty well so far. And all to keep me from turning you into a whore.”

“You’ve done that anyway,” Cindy said flatly.

Chad took hold of her hair and pulled on it, wrenching her head back.

Holding her that way, he said, “Are you complaining, Cindy?”

“No,” Cindy said, forcing her words out through the strain in her neck and the pain in her scalp. “No, Chad. I’m not.”

“Good,” Chad said, letting her go. “And don’t exaggerate, Cindy. I know you fucked old Russ Kerstetter, and even what’s-her-name, Norma’s girlfriend, not to mention those two thugs of your father’s, but that was your own choice, Cindy. I didn’t order you to do that, did I?”

“You ordered me to get you my friends. That was the only way I could do it. You know that.”

“How you did it is your business,” Chuck said, grinning. “Anyway, that’s not as bad as what could have happened if you didn’t, right? Better that than having to fuck every guy in school, isn’t it, Cindy? Not to mention anybody else I might come up with. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” Cindy said dully.

“Anyway, like I was saying, we’ve gone through most of your hoity-toity friends, and it looks like Melanie Bryan is the only one left in the big-wheel category. Who are you gonna fuck to get Melanie for me, Cindy? Or you gonna call on old Ben and Jack again?”

“Chad,” Cindy said, “Melanie is a virgin.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. She says she’s saving herself for marriage. She’s kind of religious, you know? And she’s never done it. Really.”

“Well, that’s great!” Chad said. “I’ve never had a virgin. God knows you weren’t one.” And he reached over to tweak her nipple again, this time hard enough to make Cindy draw in a hissing breath. “How soon can you get her for me, Cindy?”

“I-I don’t know, Chad. I-I’ll have to …”

Chad tightened his grip. “Don’t take too long, Cindy. Make it soon. Okay?”

“Yes, Chad.” Her voice was thin and strained.

“Good. Now you can suck my dick.”

When she was finished, Cindy ventured a question. “Chad … after Melanie … when you’ve had all my friends … will you … I mean, that will … I mean …”

“You mean will you have to get me any more girls? Is that what you mean, Cindy? Well, we’ll just have to see, won’t we? There are a lot of good-looking Asian girls in school, you know, even if they’re not in the fucking elite group. And you’re so good at pimping for me, Cin. We’ll just have to wait and see.”


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


Cindy knew she had made a bad mistake by letting Chad find out about Ben and Jack. Actually, it was them she had told about him, since they had insisted on knowing all the details of what she wanted them to do, and it had been their idea to call him over to Armina’s house that night. Now she could only pray that Chad would say nothing about them to her father. Fortunately he and her father hadn’t been in contact lately, and she could only hope it stayed that way. Her father would not be happy with her if he found out, to say the least. The very thought of it made her weak.

But she had to see them at least once more. After they had finished with her the first time, they told her that she had just paid for their services for one night only. Each further service would require her to come back and do them again. There was no way she could argue with them. When Chad had called her about Rachel, she had gone back there. That time, because she wanted them to act immediately, they had used her twice as long as before, and twice as hard. Some of the things they had done to her made her shiver when she thought of them. And before she left they had made her drink their piss. She really didn’t want to go back a third time, but she had no choice. There was no other way she could possibly get Melanie for Chad.


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


Jack, of course, managed to fuck her in spite of his reservations. Both of them did, for a long time, and when they finished she told them about Melanie. She now regretted having told Chad that Melanie was a virgin, for now Chad was looking forward to taking her cherry, which meant she had to persuade Ben and Jack to keep her intact for him.

Jack was not happy with this. “Fuck that,” he snarled. “You want us to straighten out this cunt, we do it however we want. Take it or leave it, bitch.”

But to her surprise, Ben just shrugged. “Big fucking deal,” he said. “We did that with that first bitch, didn’t we? What the hell, we can just get ours afterward.”

“Yeah, well if it was up to me we wouldn’t have waited then either. I don’t like being told how to do my job. You put extra demands on us, girl, we do the same for you, you hear me? You’re not finished here yet, baby. Not by a long shot.”

“I thought you said you were tired of fucking her,” Ben said. “And that was before you practically wore out your dick on her just now.”

“So what?” Jack said. “We’re not the only dicks in the world. I think we should let her fuck some friends of ours too. Might be something to watch, don’t you think?”

Cindy closed her eyes.

“Like who?” Ben said.

“Like Warren,” Jack replied. “I’m thinking about old Warren and his pal, Fred. Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

Ben grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that should be interesting, all right. What do you say, girl? You ready to give it up to a couple acquaintances of ours?”

Cindy sighed wearily. “Do I have a choice?”

“Sure,” Jack said. “You got a choice, cunt. But you don’t do what we want, we don’t do what you want. Be a shame after everything you already did tonight. But it’s up to you.”

“You bastards,” Cindy said. “All right. But then that’s it, right?”

“Sure,” Ben said. “Make the call, Jack.”

They let her take a shower so she would be fresh for their friends, though they stayed with her as she did it, and they entertained themselves in various ways with her body, most of them painful, while they waited. It was half an hour later when the doorbell rang. “That must be Warren and Fred now,” Jack said, and he went to admit the new guests. He brought them into the living room and introduced them.

Cindy almost fainted.

Warren was a tall, broad man in his forties with long blonde hair, whose eyes glittered as he took in Cindy’s naked body.

Fred was a big black dog.





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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