Ms. Chink the Origin
I have not always this way. I was once an independent, modern, urbane Hong Kong woman. But I’ve realized that I am only submissive when I am confronted by a white man. I remember, even as a little girl, I always wanted to be subjugated by a white man. They are all so tall, so muscular, and everyone around me worship white men. I had fantasized about being tied up and used by white men ever since I had an inkling about sex.
My relationships with chink men have been fine but the sex hasn’t been so great. I knew it was my fault so I pretended to cum for the sake of my worthless chink boyfriends. I found I could only reach orgasm while masturbating and thinking of my terrible private fantasies, with a white man. It doesn’t matter if he’s America or Australian or British or German, as long as he’s white. He must be Caucasian of the western European stock. Of full blooded aryan master race. One day I stopped at a bar frequented by westerners. There were dozens of young Chinese women dressed in skin-bare clothes and they were all surrounding themselves with white men, and there was an incredibly obese elderly white man with silver hair who leered at me. His mere look turned my face red with humiliation and my panties were already soaked. When I got home I masturbated thinking about him and I had the most intense orgasm in my life as I remembered the humiliationof being forced to be a whore for white men.
I had never cum from being fucked, until I met Mr. Simon. I was at a party designed for asian women to meet white men when I saw him enter; he was so confident, so powerful it took my breath away. He looked about ten years older than me but could have been older. Tall, ruggedly handsome with dark deep eyes, he slumped in an armchair and insolently looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my breasts and legs, a cold smile on his face.
“Another chink whore.” He sneered.
I could not believe his insolence, and yet was so turned on by the way he said it. I should have been angry. I should have walked away. But I must admit, I was so incredibly turned on by what he said.
“Get me a whiskey and soda,” he said calmly, even naming the brand of whiskey he wanted. I scurried off to do his bidding and returned with the drink. He took it and didn’t ask me to sit down, just watched me as he sipped. I was trembling and I didn’t know what to do next so I waited. “What is your first name?” he snapped suddenly.
I cleared my throat. “Jessica,” I said finally.
“No. Your real name. Give me your chinky-itty-ching-chong name.”
I was stunned and remained silent.
“If you refuse to say your real name, then from now on, you are Ms. Chink. How old are you?”
“I’m twenty nine.”
“Twenty nine?” he laughed. “You are getting old. There’s plenty of young fresh chink meat. Why should I choose you.”
“Because I am very obedient,” I said quickly. “I’m always attracted to white men, and I … I will do anything for you. Please sir, give me a chance. Let me serve you.”
A dark haired Chinese girl who looked like she was only 19 swept across the room and kissed him. “You snuck in,” she laughed, and spoke with perfectly fluent English.
Mr. Simon smiled. “Just got a drink and met another chink. Ms. Chink,” he said directly to me, “this is my girlfriend, Sylvia.”
I felt my stomach knock. “Pleased to meet you,” I recited and she looked at me carefully and then smiled.
“Of course, stupid chink whores are always on the prowl for white cocks” she said coldly and turned back to Mr. Simon. “I know you have to go soon but there is someone who is dying to meet you.” Jealously, I watched her take his hand to pull him to his feet.
They started to walk away, and then Mr. Simon said something to Sylvia before returning to me to say coldly, “I drive a black BMW, I will be leaving in exactly fifteen minutes. I expect you waiting at the curb.” With those instructions, he strode away into the party.
Swiftly, I gathered my bag and rushed outside, scanning the street for a black BMW and felt a surge of relief when I found it. I stood under a streetlight to fix my makeup, brushed my hair and wished I had worn something a little better than the denim skirt, sleeveless white top and woolen coat. Winters in Hong Kong was not always so warm.
The minutes dragged by and I wondered if they were inside looking at me through the window and laughing at how easily I did what he wanted. Although humiliated, I felt my body tingle and the dull desire in my stomach start to pulse. If this was a cruel joke, I knew I would still masturbate while remembering and cum in a huge rush at the humiliation of it all.
The car beeped as he opened it. “Get in,” he said and I hurriedly slipped into the seat next to him, his cologne sweeping over me as the car sped off into the night. Suddenly, he stopped, pulled me to him and kissed me roughly and, at the same time, sweetly. My panties were soaked and I groaned as his hand pushed my legs apart, his finger probing, pushing the wet crotch of my panties aside and slipping deeply inside my pussy. I groaned through the kiss as he finger fucked me, took control of me just like that and I had no choice, just moved on his hand.
That night we fucked in his apartment. I know, I know, he already has a Chinese girlfriend, and he has probably fucked dozens of Chinese girls like me, but I couldn’t resist. I had to give him everything I had. Naked, my large breasts lolling to the side, he roughly forced me back on the messed bed and held my hands above my head by one massive hand, his other hand gripping my hair tightly as his big white cock pounded me, used me, I came with a loud scream that echoed within the room.
We saw a lot of each other after that and I loved it. Mr. Simon would order me around and expect me to completely obey him, no matter how humiliating it was. It was inevitable that I would move into his apartment. It was a beautiful apartment and there were only two apartments on our floor. His Chinese girlfriend Sylvia who I got to know a little and found she wasn’t as nasty as she first seemed occupied the other apartment on that floor with her husband, a wimpish little asian guy who happened to be very wealthy. It seemed a little strange that Sylvia was married and still was involved with Mr. Simon, but the thing is, white men are a very hot commodity in Hong Kong and many Chinese women would cheat on their husbands just to get one. I still worked as an office lady but I also did all the housework in the apartment, Mr. Simon didn’t even offer.
Then the company I worked for was taken over and I lost my job. Mr. Simon said not to worry about finding another job; he would find one for me so I became very dependent on him for everything.
One day, Mr. Simon came home, looked at me as I ran from the sofa to kiss him and said, ” I’m horny, get on your knees and suck me.”
My face burning, I sank to my knees and he coldly looked down at me as I reached to undo his zipper. “Don’t,” he snapped, brushing my hands away. “Don’t touch without permission. Ask!”
“Please can I undo your pants?” I whispered and my panties were instantly soaked.
“So I can suck you,” I whispered, my face hot and my hands trembling.
“Suck what?” His voice was low and menacing, his hand gripped my hair as he made me look up at him.
“Your cock,” I whispered in a rush. “Please can I suck your cock?” The humiliation washed through me and I felt as if I was on the edge of coming. “Ask again, this time call me Sir.”
“Please Sir, can I suck your cock?” He nodded and my trembling fingers unzipped him and released his fat cock, which I hungrily took in my mouth. I felt so servile, so used as I sucked him, his hand in my hair and his cock filling my mouth. His hands gripped me as he fucked my mouth and I tried to stop from gagging and I realized, I had no choice, he had complete control and the thought sent my head spinning.
With a grunt, he came, coating my face with his sticky sperm, drops running down my nose and some almost in my eyes until he casually wiped his cock against my cheek. “You’ll have to improve,” he said coldly, doing his pants up and walking away without another word, leaving me kneeling on the floor, my face and my panties a mess.
I was so aroused that I had to stop myself from ripping the vibrator from the bedroom drawer after washing my face. Mr. Simon smiled at me when I walked back, my face bright red.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” he said and I nodded shamefully. “You enjoyed me taking control?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“That makes you a slut, just like every other stupid chink” he smiled and the word rang in my ears. “I guess the slut wants to cum now?”
I was trembling; his words seemed to be drifting in and out of my head. “Please?’ I moaned. “Please Sir,” I added and moaned when I said it.
“Go and get dressed in your slut clothes and wait for me.” I rushed to strip off my clothes and dress in the black bra, panties and stockings that he loved me to wear.
Thirty minutes later, I was on my back, panties in my mouth and my ankles tied to my wrists so my wet pussy was open, hungrily gaping. I was helpless and so exposed, desperate to cum.
“You’ve been using this without my permission,” Mr. Simon said, taking my vibrator from the drawer, tapping my ass with it. “You don’t use it unless I allow you.” I nodded desperately, tasting myself on my soaked panties and moaning when he slid the vibrator deep into my asian pussy. Smiling he twisted the end and it started to vibrate inside me. “Enjoy while I get a drink.”
No, I wanted to cry out! Touch my clit, please! It was maddening, the vibrator deep inside me, teasing me but there was no friction on my clit, and it was swollen, red and ignored.
Suddenly I heard the doorbell and I strained my ears to listen as Mr. Simon opened the door. “Hi Sylvia.”
“Is Ms. Chink here? I wanted to borrow something.”
To my horror, I heard Mr. Simon say casually, “Yeah, she’s tied up in the bedroom with a vibrator in her cunt. Want to look?”
“Sure,” she laughed.
My face was red with shame when they both walked in, the vibrator so loud in the room. “Are those her panties in her mouth?” Sylvia casually asked, taking Mr. Simon’s drink for a quick sip. “She likes the taste of cunt?”
“I guess. Who cares what she likes?” Mr. Simon laughed and took his drink back. “She just wants to cum. Don’t you, chink?” he suddenly snapped at me and face hot with shame, I nodded. His fingers removed the sodden panties, dropping them on the pillow next to me. “Beg,” he said coldly.
My eyes darted from Sylvia to Mr. Simon; both were smiling down at me while calmly sharing the drink. “Please Sir,” I begged hoarsely, “please let me cum.”
“She has a nice little cunt,” Sylvia observed, looking down at my pussy and the vibrator protruding from it. “And she’s already completely shaved. Mine. Have you had her yellow ass yet?” she casually asked and Mr. Simon shook his head.
“Not yet.” His big fingers removed the vibrator and he wiped it on my hot cheeks, teasing my mouth with it. “Beg to cum, lil’ chink.”
“Please, Sir,” I almost screamed with desperation and deep in humiliation. My head was spinning, all control gone as I slipped away, degrading myself without thought in my urgent need for relief.
“Please let me cum!”
“You’re nothing but a slut, aren’t you?” he demanded as he slipped two fingers inside of me, Sylvia giggling softly.
“Yes, yes,” I desperately agreed, his fingers slowly fucking me. “I’m a slut!”
“She screams when she cums,” Mr. Simon said idly to Sylvia.
“I think I’ve heard her,” Sylvia laughed, “the walls are a little thin. Does she always get this wet? Her thighs are coated in it, for chink’s sake!”
“She gets wet very easily, it’s like turning a faucet on.”His fingers moved in and out and I tried to buck on his hand, to get my clit in contact with something, anything! “Ask Sylvia if you can cum,” Mr. Simon snapped and Sylvia laughed.
“Please Sylvia,” I begged, humiliated that she should see me like this but I was desperate, “please can I cum?”
“Let me think about it,” Sylvia laughed again and Mr. Simon smiled.
“You are a heartless chink bitch, Sylvia,” he said.
“We chinks are very cruel alright,” she snapped, “Yes you can cum.”
Mr. Simon’s thumb pressed against my clit while his fingers penetrated me, the pressure rocking me and I screwed my eyes shut. “Show us how you cum, slut,” Mr. Simon whispered in my ear, pushing me over the edge. The waves rolled over me, intense almost painful as I screamed in ecstasy, lost in my pleasure and humiliation.
I finally opened my eyes and Sylvia and Mr. Simon were standing by the door, smiling broadly. “Bravo,” Sylvia said mockingly, clapping slowly and my face burned with shame.
Mr. Simon untied one hand and I gingerly lowed one leg, the other still tied to my other wrist. “Free yourself and get out to the kitchen. We’d like something to eat.”
I heard Sylvia giggle as they left the room, my stiff fingers fumbling with the rope.