You should date an Asian woman.

Physically small, weak, slender, hairless, with perky tits and round ass, an Asian woman like me was built to be a little sex doll for a white man to pound and unload his semen into. Even if you’re not an ephebophile by nature, you will find yourself beginning to think like one as you grow to appreciate my supple, soft, neotenic body next to your hairy and well muscled form, and marvel how nice and easy it is to dominate me in bed and toss me around like a rag doll.

Looking into my cute almond eyes adorned on my silly pankcake moon face, you will read my submissive devotion. The alien-ness of my oriental features, the minimalism of that nose bridge, the femininity of those hairless and scentless limbs—you will feel captivated by me, who belong to this race of women that is so unlike you, yet so eager to tease and pleasure you; and you will become tremendously aroused by this set of circumstances, and you will feel like a king. You will be my emperor.

Mentally, I am inexperienced and naive about the world, naive about leading a feminist lifestyle although I may know its tenets. I am also introverted and shy, naturally intelligent yet submissive, eager to please because you will be my first white man and that means a lot to me, and I am overall very self-conscious of my race and its position in the world.

Literally, my frame of reference is a 5’5″ spiky haired asian nerd with a 4 inch penis. I will be so grateful that you are a 5’8″ white guy with a 5 inch penis that I will practically not see any difference between that and porn star proportions, because all I can discern is that you are huge and packing.

I’m accustomed to scrawny family members and asian friends with bowl cuts, so if you play in a sports league with friends you will seem like a thrilling alpha sports star. If you’re 5’10” I will think you’re a muscle man. if you dress reasonably well, I will feel like a village girl invited to be a princess. If you have blonde hair and blue eyes, I will call you Ryan Gosling in front of my Asian friends as my pussy gushes at the aryan ideal.

Over the years I have been trained to differentiate between the asian and white guys, but not so much between different types of white men, so it’s unlikely for me o run off with another white man for trivial or whimsical reasons. As a chinky outsider, I will be naive to many of your personal flaws. I will have lower standards, and I will be unable to parse the social inadequacies that a white girl would easily pick up on. In sum, you have more slack with me than with any girl you have had previously.

Over time, you will notice, that I notice a difference between asian and white races, but, don’t worry, such comparisons will inevitably run in favor of the white race. As the white boyfriend, you will automatically benefit from the broad generalizing racial judgments that result from these frequent outbursts of neurotic self-hatred.

Just to let you know, your sexy asian girlfriend does have a chip on her shoulder and will vent about race a lot.

Realize that this is mostly to impress you. Pat me on the head and remind me that you are the white guy (not the bad guy). It will keep me content, and grateful.

You can get away with doing degrading things to me because although I put up a front like I’m a feminist and sick of white guys with yellow fever, but in reality I love to take abuse because I believe wholeheartedly in white superiority and feel most poignantly the inferiority of my own race.

Remember, my dear white lord, that this is a girl who has been obsessed with being owned and bred by a superior race of men since she was a 70 lb. middle school girl who had just talked to a white boy for the first time in her life.

I’ve shared these fantasies with my asian female friends, and even announced them around asian guys and adults, with the corollary that a full asian baby would be runty and undesirable and below what I know I deserve.

This is a girl who knows what she wants, and what she wants is your penis in order to have your seed, your seed in order to have a half-white baby, and that baby for the eugenics of her line and the purification of her womb.

I admire you as more than just a man, but as the benefactor of my future children, as the ticket to interracial bliss and my acceptance into a higher, white society.

My white king, an Asian woman has been conditioned to love the white man, to be caring and nurturing and supportive of the white man, to make him happy and satisfy his needs no matter what. By dating a white man, she is proudly rejecting her own race, and this is wonderfully good for you.

It eliminates or smooths over usual lines of conflict. Now you have something that binds me to you forever, that transcends petty squabbles and usual couples’ issues. It frames our relationship in a grander context and gives it a special narrative. The narrative is that I am fleeing my oppressive native culture, hounded by hateful asian men who feel entitled to enslave me, and you are my white knight savior who has dedicated his time to making everything right. This legitimatizes your feelings of lust when you’re pounding me in the ass and I’m squealing like a hello kitty toy. This makes you feel bigger and stronger than you normally would when manhandling a petite girl whose utmost desire is to please you. This makes you feel good about yourself, my white god, righteous even, and entitles you to make derisive statements about a whole group of people that you have long felt to be beneath your kind—asians.

Because you know, you know what it means to save a precious asian girl from that sinister race, and you know how it feels to sweep her up in your strong white arms as she mews appreciatively about your bravado and how different you are from every asian guy she’s met.

My White God, I’m here to indulge you in your asian fantasies with theroic twist and make your penis feel so BIG.

Date an Asian woman, my white king. Life’s too short to live any other way.

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.

6 thoughts on “You should date an Asian woman.”

  1. We still actually need Asian men – you know – for breeding with Asian women so that white men will have gook chinks to conquer.

  2. I definitely need this girl. I don’t care which girl she actually is, as long as she fits the above description. Feel free to offer yourself to me.

  3. But I have dated Asian! Chinese,Korean,Thai…’Imported and Domestic born..never met Japanese…Filipina to me are not truly Asian..Best of this list..depends….but to Occidental male mind..Chinese are/were the ‘original Asian..

  4. I just want to know where I can get one at. I tried to get sent to Asia when I was in the army, but they sent me to Germany instead. I have always known about the little submissive Asian girls and want one. Now that I don’t travel abroad, I have no idea where to find my little Asian woman. Any suggestions? Any ideas? I would be grateful for any leads or ideas that would lead me to a place I can find my little Asian woman. I have always felt I was supposed to marry an Asian woman and have been waiting to find her before getting married. But I am starting to get older and have had some doubts about ever finding my Asian woman. So now is the time to make this happen and I am using every outlet I can find. Thank you for your time and consideration.

  5. Asian men constantly whine about being assaulted or scammed when they are in foreign countries, blaming it on racism. Yet there are men of other ethnicities with the same size and weight, who are virtually unharmed. Why? Because they don’t have that cultural prey attitude, which is based on Confucian culture of immobilism and submission. Get on the Internet, and you will see Singaporean males blaming their women for being in love with the Indian minority of their state. Is it maybe because the Asian male is the most wimpy being there is? Maybe they should man up and get some courage? No, to these men there is no effort to be done, it’s because Asian women are sluts who refuse to submit to their traditional masters.
    Asian countries force their teens to get in the military, you would expect them to show some courage, but they are more cowardly than the race-mixed Western countries who gave up on high-intensity national service.
    When an Asian man goes aboard, gets self-confidence, charisma and is able to get white women, his words are rejected and he is met with scorn, because he achieved a state of mind higher to the average keyboard warrior Asian male.

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