I was having dinner at my future father-in-law’s house when my fiancé got a call from his work place. His boss asked if he could take an extra night shift and he agreed. He didn’t have time to drive me home, so we decided that I’d stay the night in his old room, a small bedroom on the second floor, right next to his dad’s master bedroom. It wasn’t the first time. He and I had slept there before so it wasn’t an issue.
As night fell I slipped in my pajama shorts and a thin, loose-fitting, white T-shirt. Even though the shirt was a bit big, it was hugging my breasts showing my nipples and my body. I was feeling sexy, so I sent a naughty text to my fiancé.
I was watching Netflix in the bedroom room when John, my future husband, the love of my life, the master of my universe, started to voice-chat with me.
He said he was bored and asked me what I would do to his dick if I were there with him. Smilingly, I explained how I would tease him by licking and kissing his cockhead until he would grab my hair and slam his entire cock down my throat. When he was done with my mouth he would force me to stand up and bend over his desk as he did whatever he pleased with my holes. My pussy was getting so wet as I dirty-talked to him and I said that I really needed to be fucked. Badly. I would do anything for him to take me right there and then.
After he had cum, we stopped sexting. Technically he was still at work, so he actually was supposed to be doing something. I was feeling pretty thirsty after all those talking so I thought I would get a glass of water from the kitchen before slipping back under the blankets and then I was going to be getting myself off.
It was about 2:00 A.M.
I figured his dad would be fast asleep. Therefore I didn’t care to put my shorts back on. Wearing just my T-shirt and underwear, I snuck into the kitchen. While the water was running from the tap, I felt a hand gripping my hair and another hand caressing my butt. A warm, whiskey-smelling breathe of air tickled my ear as I heard the words: “So, you would do anything for a good fuck?”
I just froze, paralyzed by the shock of being groped and not understanding what was happening. John’s father abruptly yanked me by the hair from the sink and I fell to my knees only held upright by his tight grip of my hair. It hurt so bad I thought it was gonna fall out. I tried to scream, but no sound would come out. Suddenly his cock was in my wide-open, scream-less mouth. “Lick it,” he said. I tried to shake my head. “Lick it,” he repeated. “Lick it like the good Asian slut you are”.
He pulled out and I quickly closed my mouth and tried to get free, but it was hopeless. He proceeded to smear his precum on my lips. After my lips were fully covered by his precum, like a glossy lipstick, he told me to open my mouth. When I refused he took a big black paper clamp and pinched my nose so that I couldn’t breathe. Finally, I had to gasp for air and that was when he jammed his cock right down my throat. I felt disgusted and gagged a little as his cock was deep in my throat.
He face-fucked me for about 15 minutes making my eyes tear up and sometimes he would stay in deep for so long I thought I’d pass out. The father’s cock is so much bigger than his son’s. When I finally got to breathe properly I coughed and cried and asked him to stop, but he just answered that he knew I liked it and needed a big white dick inside me.
He pulled me up, turned me around and bent me over the sink, shoving my head under the still-running, ice-cold water. His hands pulled down my panties, and I was so wet I could feel my own juice between my thighs. Even though I was scared to death and crying my eyes out, being forced to blow him got me really horny. Plus I was already soaking wet from earlier.
He laughed and said he knew I would love it and that I was “just another submissive asian slut” and needed to be good to him. He ran his cock up and down my pussy and asshole. John’s father had been divorced twice and his third wife was also Asian.
Not knowing when he was going to put it in or where he was going to put it was both terrifying and exciting. Suddenly he was forcing his dick into my pussy, thrusting hard. He grunted and moaned and I felt a sting of pain as he put his thumb in my ass. I pleaded “no” several times but he kept his finger there as he fucked me. Without warning he pulled out and shoved his entire cock in my asshole.
I screamed from surprise and insane pain, but he only seemed to get even more excited by that. He spanked my ass hard, several times, to get me to scream louder. Then he started to breath more and more heavily until he pulled his cock from my ass and came all over my butt. He slapped me on my butt cheek a last time, turned off the tap and just walked away.
I remember trembling as I headed for the bathroom. The ugly black paper clamp was still clamped to my nose and it made me look like a clown. I took it off and my nose had turned beet-red. My hair was all wet. I turned around and saw big red finger marks on my ass. After cleaning myself up and recovering from the shock of what had just happened, I went back to bed and masturbated and came several times to what had just happened. I knew I should have felt disgusted. I was scared and deeply hurt while it was happening, but thinking about it afterwards just made me so horny.
For that entire night I was unable to sleep.
As the morning approached my heart was pounding hard. My face was blushing red and hot to the touch. I kept on thinking back to what happened and by the time it was about 7 A.M. I think I dozed off to a light sleep. And I dreamed a weird dream of John and his father using me at the same time. I felt so dreadful. Then I realized it was just a dream. I wondered how could I ever see both men eye-to-eye again. As I dozed off to sleep again I was nudged awake and I saw John standing right next to me with his cock out. I was startled, but recollected myself after realizing it was my love. Without saying another word he shoved his cock in my mouth and face-fucked me. It was now day time and the sun was beating hot on our naked bodies, reflecting off a golden sheen. Memory of what had happened the previous night made me emotional and I started to tremble and tear up. John didn’t seem to notice as he turned me over on the bed and started to fuck me in my pussy. I was moaning loud and almost screaming as I came. After several more minutes John came too and fell asleep laying on top of me.
I lay awake still wondering how I could face him and my future father-in-law, as my hand slipped beneath the crushing weight of John and started to finger myself again.
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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3 thoughts on “Asian slut seduces her future father-in-law”
Jennifer, I really like this one. Chris
On Sat, Dec 5, 2020 at 1:02 PM A Submissive East Asian Woman’s Dreams and Fantasies wrote:
> jennifer suzuki posted: ” I was having dinner at my future father-in-law’s > house when my fiancé got a call from his work place. His boss asked if he > could take an extra night shift and he agreed. He didn’t have time to drive > me home, so we decided that I’d stay the night in his o” >
Really fantastic post today. Got me so hard ________________________________
Really? You get turned on from reading about rape and cheating. Disgusting