Pleasing White Man in all his physically prepotent glory is my passion. There is no feeling–no ecstasy greater, no joy more overwhelming to my heart–than the feeling of a white cock slammed into my throat, bulging my tiny esophagus, leaking its pre-cum into my tummy; and, I, in this painful, pleasurable, humiliating process, soaking my pussy.

I’m obsessed with being forced to pleasure White Man, worship White Man, and submit to White Man, even if it means that I will be gagged and that I will struggle with his white meat rammed down my throat, even if it means that I will be constantly starving for White Cock no matter how many cocks I’ve been fed.

Because otherwise I’m useless.

I heard somewhere on a podcast that more than 80 percent of women are having sex with less than 20 percent of men, and this is actually enabled by change in technology and globalization. The argument goes somewhat as follows: less than 20 percent of men are considered unattractive to women. Of those 20 percent, less than 20 percent of them are above 6 feet tall. Of those percentage, less than 20 percent has attractive personality. And of those, less than 20 percent is rich. Etc. Etc. If you do the math, you come to realize than a tiny, tiny percentage of men are attractive for all women, and all the women who are having sex with a man may be ending up, in a limited pool, be having sex with the same man. The vast majority of the rest of men are simply genetic dead ends who will never have sex with women.

And it just so happens that that tiny percentage of men are almost entirely white.

My white owner—my pussy tightens and moistens just at the mention of him—played a game with me and another white-cock-starved Asian girl while we all stayed in a seedy motel together. He told both of us that we were to not make a sound while we were being fucked. “If you make a peep, I stop and switch to the other.” Both of us hadn’t been fucked in a while and so we were desperate to keep him inside us, but we would inevitably cry out as he positioned to drive himself deeper and deeper. He butchered our insides. And yet for him, “It’s so much fun watching you both desperately trying to stay quite,” as he cranked up the intensity of ruining our innards.

Immured in the daily treadmill of material survival, in going to work and leaving work, immersed in, surrounded by, and flooded all round with handsome, solipsistic, imperious white men, the commonwealth of an Asian woman living in the west, whether any of us has any awareness of it whatsoever, consist mostly of deviant sexual escapades with the said kind of men; which can be more or less otiose games without reproduction or childbearing, and yet can be demonstrably luxurious for the soul, and yet, yet again, can be all too often irresponsible and devilish in their consequences.

My white owner had given me daily assignment to watch WMAF porn videos and play with my cunt and clit EXCEPT that my dildo must be inside my ass the whole time. My desperation to touch my swollen Asian clit and make myself cum became unbearable after a couple of days. Although the feeling of desperation made my cunt wet as well.

For reasons that I’ve yet to fully comprehend but depriving my Asian pussy of white cock made me incredibly horny. When I was at work I was too busy and had no opportunity to play with myself, but the other half of me knew that I could make time, by going into the bathroom, in the dressing room, or even inside my car, but my owner forbade me to use my dildo inside my pussy and it made me suffer. One day I even woke up to me rubbing my clit in my sleep. That was how horny I had been.

During the road trip to the seedy motel he made me “show the other Asian girl a video of you being a horny slut while at work.” In that video, I squealed like a typical Japanese slut because I never imagined that he would show it to others. I tried pulling my phone away. I tried turning it off because I was embarrassed, not just for me, but also for the other girl. But he asked me, or to be more exact, told me: who was in charge. He made me repeat it. “White Man is in charge. And White Man gets what he wants.” I was humiliated, appalled; I was made an object of virulent anathema, and yet I was also dripping wet.

Those are not occult notions, that White Men are desirable for Asian chicks. Those feelings are, for an Asian woman, of an immensity of the commonplace. They are, in fact, perfectly pragmatic, experiential and repetitive, each and every time those lines came to me they came to inhabit me, possess me, enter into the sinews of my remembrance and sense of the future, and like a painting transmutes the landscape of my previous perception–my previous perception, in which I considered myself equal to white men, in which I had deluded myself with puerile provenance of my Japanese heritage, in which I had foolishly taken pride.

I felt the impetuous desire that was in me, and a yielding mood like a cloud of thunderstorm had came upon me.

That night at the motel, I was fucked in the ass twice, and yet I still felt like I was having a mild orgasm an hour later. During the process my pussy was on fire, and I had to pee so badly, but instead of letting me go, or use the bathroom with dignity, my white owner held me upside down and made me piss all over myself and my face. My urine went up my nose, into my mouth, and my hair was soaked too because of how much piss came out of me. “She is a nasty slut and she is proud of it,” He bragged to the other Asian girl, who was kneeling by the door of the bathroom, staring in a state of trance, her eyes staring blankly into the abyss.

The other Asian girl went by the name “Jillian”. She is Chinese, originally from Shanghai, about 5 feet 8, with marmoreal skin from the kingdom of White Queen, and long silky black hair like Snow White, works as a regional sales manager for Huawei. During the day she is the patriotic Chinese nationalist poster girl. My white owner had been her secret lover for over three years now. He took her out do dinners, to expensive trips abroad. If you looked through her social media profiles, you would always see pictures of her at fancy restaurants, five-star hotels, and other expensive trips to history-rich European countries such as Greece, England, France, etc., and she is always seen with someone, either dining or swimming or diving, or fencing–because there are always two sets of everything, two sets of dishes, two sets of silver-plates, two sets of hands, and yet that someone is never actually seen. He is invisible. But he is there, and he shows up at night, and creeps out at dawn. Some at her company–all of them Chinese male engineers–gossiped that she is dating a matutinal-crepscular non-being.

Her interests are “food, travel and shopping”. Her interest in my white owner is never mentioned anywhere.

“Being creampied and walking around with your wet, sticky cum filled in my panties is a turn on. I love feeling the wetness rubbing against my cunt all day, reminding me of the incredible fuck I had that morning,” referring to my white owner as “Sir”. She is fully aware that my white owner has multiple girlfriends, all of them Asian, and she is okay with it. However, she would never tolerate a Chinese guy having more than one girlfriend. “Feeling your cum between my thighs as I’m going about my day makes me crave your cock and cum all over again.” Without even caring for my feelings, she said those words in front of me and my owner as if I were indifferent to jealousy. Those are the sentences that arrested my spirit. Her words mapped out the different spaces, the different journeys and histories we have traversed, re-traversed, seeking to quarry, and to inhabit and yet in the end all converging at the same point, as if in a recursive formula, “in-folding” inside the limits of our words, defining the immanence of being Asian.

That night at the motel, both of us got anal cream pies from my white owner. We also sucked his cock right after it came out of our butts for the first time too and it was incredibly hot. Sometimes I had thought that my sex life cannot possibly get any more exciting than it already is, but then, my owner surprises me. The mere knowledge that many other Asian girls are fighting to win his favors makes me even more attracted to him than I felt was possible.

The next morning my white owner decided that he had had enough of me and dragged me by my hair to the bathroom and sadly I knew what was coming. He told me to kneel in front of the toilet and forced his cock in my mouth and started to piss. I can’t explain it, but if you are a perverted dirty little Asian girl like I am then you know that drinking your white owner’s piss is one of the most amazing feelings in the world. Some of it fell into the toilet, and the last mouth-full he made me swallow. As if it wasn’t already humiliating enough, he then demanded that I cup my hands and take a sip of the toilet water and piss that fell out of my mouth, and then he made me repeat the line, “I’m a worthless yellow piss slut.” I didn’t think twice. After I had successfully accomplished my tasks, he petted me on the head and said, from now on, this will be my new morning routine.

Sometimes I need to be reminded of my place in the world, and it’s beneath White Man.