An Asian Sex Education

Asian countries do not teach sex education to their students. That’s a mistake, but not gravely so. Most Asians in Asian countries do not have sex. Asian countries have the lowest birth rate in the world, even without including China, which until just a few years ago still implemented a strict one-child policy. All North East Asian countries, Japan, Korea, Taiwan etc. are sepulchrally below replacement level. Because most Asian women do not wish to have sex with Asian men.

On the other hand, Asian sex education must be offered to Asian living in America. Condoms should be distributed to both Asian boys and girls. Nearly 80 percent of Asian girls cohabit sexually with white men, 7 percent with black men, and 12 percent with Hispanic men.

It’s a misconception that only Asian women have sex. Approximately 51 percent of Asian men engage in oral sex and anal sex with non-Asian men, whether or not they self-claim to be gay or straight. And approximately 49 percent of Asian boys identify as either cross-dressers, or transgenders.

To Asian boys:

It’s your first year in college, and you have lots of expectations. You will be nervous to learn about sex. Well, yes, but sorry to break it to you, yes, you can learn as much about sex as you want, from watching WMAF (white-male-Asian-female) porn in your dorm, or from watching your other more privileged white classmates or white roommates having sex, and more likely than not, they will be having sex with Asian girls.

Sometimes, and I don’t blame you—it’s your natural biological instinct, that you will want to have sex too—but let me guess, your penis is less than 5 inches even when fully erect. It’s also hairy and unkempt. And it’s uncut and full of disgusting smegma. Again, yes, once again, sorry to break it to you, no Asian girl would ever want to touch that. Never have. And never will.

You will, for the next four years of your undergrad education, brood in resentment, bitter loneliness and sexual frustration. Knowing that no Asian girl will ever love you or have sex with you, you will want to, and perhaps even try to, approach white girls, but, sadly, nearly 100% of white girls will ignore you. To them, you don’t even exist. They will never even look at you. The rare, singular white girl—the less than 0 percent—who so pities you as to look at you, will still see you as a sort of eunuch, a neutered little freak who ought to be kept in an animal shelter instead of being treated as a human on campus. She will perhaps show curiosity toward such an unsightly creature as an Asian “man”, but she will never consider you for romantic love, for obvious reasons.

Perhaps you will convert all your sexual frustration into studying, getting good grades and getting a good-paying job in the tech world, eventually ending up to work as a software engineer, or a research scientist; and with all the savings your parents give you, you will find a wife from your home country such as China or Vietnam, sponsor her to come to America and marry you. Perhaps she will even love you.

And this is the best scenario for you, if you are smart in science and stuffs.

For Asian girls:

It is in college that you will learn, you are the most desirable female-type on earth, well, at least for a certain type of men. You will, for the first time, be out of the sight of your strict Asian parents, be out of the control of patriarchal Asian men, and be able to be the real you. You will start to explore. You will start to learn about applying makeup, putting on sexy clothes, black stockings and high heels, and you will learn to seduce men, superior men, white men, who will take you out of your league, who will rescue you from your inferior Asian class in which the men are worthless, tiny and effeminate.

You will be—and you will want to be—surrounded by high-quality men, white men, from wealthy, upper-middle class and you will be in shock and awe; you will gasp collectively at the immense difference between your lowly Asian background and the truly superior white world, the upper echelon of the ruling class, to which you will be a novice, to which your white lover will be your guide like Beatrice to Paradiso.

You will experience your first white cock, and you will become addicted. For the rest of your life after that, you will swear to only love white men. Like a bird freed from its cage, you will soar and forever leave the Asian boys in the dust bin. You will never have to deal with them ever again. You will enter the white world.

In mandatory general education classes you will be taught about western imperialism, colonialism, post-colonialism, and other cool white-liberal stuffs, and, perhaps for a brief period of time you will become resentful too, full of righteous indignation at the domination of western thinkers, scientists, philosophers, creators, builders of civilizations, breakers of traditional values, harbingers of brave new worlds, conquerors, and en-slavers of other races. And as you and your white boyfriend—laying in bed, naked and cuddling each other—discuss those cool things you are taught in class, about those evil white men, your pussy will spasm and tighten and you will turn over, face buried into the pillow, and love the feeling of your boyfriend’s big white cock, the sword of your conqueror, cumming inside you, giving you the seed of masculine, world-conquering white gods.

You will never even want to look at an Asian male in the eyes afterward. You know you are superior to the rest of Asians, but you will also know that you are still inferior to white men, and you know, after college, that you will rather be working for a white man than for a smelly Asian man.

To Asian boys:

You will for the first time learn what’s like to be lonely, more lonely than you have ever felt in your entire life, up to now, and you will learn that this is just the beginning of the rest of your pathetic, transitory existence on this earth, from which you came with nothing and will leave nothing behind. Most likely you will never breed. The lucky few, the one percent among you, might become super-wealthy and be able to find a wife, but the 99 percent of you will either die as lonely virgins or become gay and/or transgender, if you do not already like Cassius choose to deliver yourself from this bondage prematurely, or like an antique Roman rather than a Dane. Your guiding philosopher will be Schopenhauer and your new hobby will be counting the number WMAF couples you see on the street and furiously masturbate to their images in front of your computer at home.

For Asian girls:

You start to comprehend the power you have over men. A single sexy photo will get you hundreds of likes on Instagram and every single day your inbox is flooded by desperate men who say they will sacrifice their lives for you, who swear to love you until the earth shatters, and who are willing to give all their livelihood to you just to be with you for a brief second of their otherwise meaningless lives. And out of those hundreds, thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands, you will choose one and that one—you will make sure that he is the cream of the crop, the best of the best, and wealthiest of the wealthiest, the most humorous, the most high-quality of men, and of course, he will most likely be white, or the cream of the crop from some other race. Perhaps a legendary football player like Pele (married to an Asian woman), a legendary comedian like Dave Chappelle (married to an Asian woman), or some other multi-billionaire, most of whom are married to Asian women, except for Elon Musk—though, rumor has it, he’s actually half Chinese himself.

To Asian boys:

When you are in the locker room with other boys, especially white and black boys, you will notice that your penis is much smaller, and that your testicles are much tinier. You learn that you are genetically disadvantaged as a biological male. Nature cheated you. Even if you do not go into a locker room, you can already see on campus that every non-Asian boy is much taller than you, and those real men, mostly white men, are not just much taller, but also much more muscular. They have big biceps and wide shoulders and can lift you up and drag you around like a sack of potatoes in a fight. You will learn that you are not really a man in comparison, at least in the west; the jocks will once in a while joke about you bending over and taking it up the ass. “All Asians look like faggots,” you will hear it whispered around you. You are much better off being born a girl, you will lament. And that’s normal.

You might just as well start putting on makeup and shaving your legs and asking those big, scary white men if they would have sex with you like you are a girl.

In addition to giving blowjobs to white men, as you secretly do, you also learn to enjoy being anally penetrated. It’s the only kind of sex you will get as an Asian.

For Asian girls:

Your body is growing and you start to like admiring your own naked body in front of the mirror. You admire your own breasts and curvy hips and you couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of a strong, muscular white man coming to take advantage of you. You turn blue with jealousy when you see your white girlfriend bringing her tall, handsome white boyfriend to your dorm and have sex with him. You want a white boyfriend of your own. You have an advantage over the Asian boys. You have three holes to please white men.

You are sick and tired of going to clubs full of Asians and you beg your white girlfriend to take you and your three other Asian girlfriends to the real club, where the music is loud, the booze is real and the guys are white. And when she eventually takes all four of you, you notice all the white guys are hooking up with white girls and once again you feel a jealous rage. You go back to your dorm and start reading more into Foucault, Marx, and other Communist-Feminist required readings for your class and you think about becoming a social justice warrior. And thankfully there is a white man who’s there for you just in this kind of situation. He’s weak, short, and effeminate, a white-version of an Asian man, and no white girl likes him, but he’s taken a shine on you and, out of loneliness and desperation, you start going out with him. He may be shy and timid outside, but he’s a closeted homosexual and a connoisseur of Asian SM pornography and wouldn’t ever take no for an answer, not from an inferior Asian.

In order to please your white boyfriend, you will need more than giving him blowjobs. Any Asian knows how to do that already. He has had multiple Asians giving him blowjobs, from both sexes. He asks you if it’s okay to bring a friend, and teach you about double penetration.

You browse the internet and you learn that even though Asian boys treat you like a goddess, you still pall in comparison to white girls. You do not have big supple breasts like white girls, and you do not have the outrageously curvy hips as white girls do, and so in order to attract top-quality white men, you compensate by being more obedient, more docile, and more kinky in bed. You will start to learn how to enjoy being spanked and, hogtied. When that cute white boy from your class asks you on the second date: “Do you enjoy Japanese bondage?”, you don’t even pretend to be offended. You lower your head and bite your lips as you put your hands around your lap and gasp and moan. This is your third boyfriend in three years. You are going to become a senior in next year.

To Asian boys:

In the four years of college you made no friend, and has never had a girl even looking at you or smiling at you. You sense that maybe this is the beginning of the end, you are doomed from now on to live your life as an involuntary celibate.

Your GPA is dismal and you either have to drop out of college, graduate without any job prospect, or take a few more years of drubbing in solitary. You go back to live in your parents’ basement and spend all your time online watching WMAF porn.

You find a low-paying intern job and you realize your life cannot get any worse. Every colleague at your intern already knows that, as an Asian, you never get laid, and that you are probably a closet-tranny or cross-dresser. You try to hide, but the big, tall, domineering black guy at your job slaps you on the ass and makes you bend over. “Chink boy, I’m gonna whoop yo ass.” You realize white boys are so much more gentle. Your life has no meaning and your life is worthless, you repeat those mantra back to yourself.

For Asian girls:

You get a high-paying intern job at a prestigious company and when you arrived everyone treats you like a royalty. You are the only female in that department and you are praised to the roof. You had no idea how popular you can be. All the men are hungry for you, desperate for your approval, and your boss offers to give you a full-paying position and promised bonus, and promotions, and more salary in a year just so you can stay. And you already get even better offers from other companies. You are on top of the world, and you are only 23.

You move in to your own apartment and you found a fourth boyfriend. He’s older, successful, and handsome, and a mutt of all races: a mix of Irish, Scottish, Italian, and German. He comes over to have sex with you whenever you text him. He’s obedient like a dog, and aggressive like a beast in bed. And you know, and he knows, that you can ditch him and find any other man at any point. He satisfies all your vainglory dreams, all your romantic fantasies; you feel so proud, so strong and so independent—I’m an exemplar of modern Asian woman, you say—when you introduce your successful, handsome white boyfriend to other girls, especially white girls, who turn purple with jealousy. You satisfy all his sexual fantasies in return, becoming a docile, submissive Asian slave in bed.

You learn the many advantages you have as an Asian woman. You will never grow old, in the eyes of white men. You will probably never gain as much weight as white women. You are also much smarter than your average white woman which means you excel in subjects like math which completely befuddles the brain of a dumb blonde girl and so you compete with other men in male-dominated fields like finance and engineering, and you become the icon for breaking glass ceilings and the poster child of diversity and inclusion.

What’s more, you are surrounded by successful men who pamper you like a goddess and you have an unlimited dating pool.

Your life cannot get anymore happier.

To Asian boys:

Your life cannot get any worse. You are fired from the last internship you had. You are still living in your parents’ basement. You have never had a girlfriend. All day and all night you are tormented. You think you are going crazy. One day on the street you see another WMAF couple, a really gorgeous Asian girl and an older, white gentleman and this is the one hundredth WMAF couple you see in a week. You have a mental breakdown in the middle of the street, the cops get called and you are sent to a mental hospital.

For Asian girls:

You have so many choices you feel overwhelmed. You love your fiancee, but you also value your career. You are a strong, independent, modern Asian woman. You make 100K every year. You have everything: love, career, happiness, sex, and all you lack now is a happy marriage and a litter of children. You decide to wait. You are only 26. You still have plenty of time. You can have a cat in the meanwhile. Or two. You decide to have two cats and call yourself their mommy. You are seeing your fifth boyfriend—”Perhaps he is the one?”, you question—after you switched to an even better-paying job from the last company you worked. This is the third company you worked for since you graduated from college.

But you are ambitious. You want to go back to college to get a master degree. You weigh your options. My company sponsors me to get a master degree, but I will have to take a temporary deduction in pay. Or, I can work full time and not go back to college and continue to build up my resume on experience. Should I go back to college? Let’s make an analysis. That’s what I’m good at. … Oh, let me tell you, you should, your fifth boyfriend chimes in. You are young and you have the energy and the mental capacity. When you get older, it’s going to be harder for you to go back to school. But, ultimately, the choice is yours. The sky is the limit for you, sweet girl, the apple of my eye, the lighthouse of my sail, the bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh. You are too clingy, you tell him.

You decide life is so much easier when you live alone. You want to be independent. You do not want to settle down yet. Your fifth boyfriend constantly begs you for marriage. You decide to cut him loose and move to California and choose attending Berkeley. Both NYU and Columbia offered you acceptance letters but you want to get away from New York for a while.

For Asian boys:

You are given a daily cocktail of antidepressants and other stabilizing drugs and you finally come to your senses. You decide to transition and live the rest of your life as a woman. You wish you had come to the realization sooner. After taking female hormone therapy for a month you are cleared to leave the mental hospital. You go back to living in your parents’ basement and start to receive government cash assistance and food stamps, but you are no longer a boy. The life of an Asian boy ends.

To Asian girls:

You find a sixth boyfriend in California. He’s much older than you, old enough to be your grandfather, but the sex is amazing. Sex is 90 percent mental and 10 percent physical, he tells you and he’s able to get into your head. He is dominant and you love to follow his orders. He calls you his “Asian slut” and makes you “Serve your White Master” and, without fully understanding why, you are so excited and stimulated and at the same time so degraded and humiliated and yet you had the best sex you ever had. The role play scenarios he concocts drives you out of your mind. He invites all his friends from Senior Living Facility, tells them you are a “cheap Asian whore” and make you give them foot massages. They each pay you 20 dollars and thank you for your service. Then your white master tells them that you offer more: “She sucky sucky too!” Your face turns beet red and you glare at your master and you want to storm out of the house, yet physically you stay put. You cannot move. A spell has been cast over you. You crawl over and start sucking their smelly, dirty cocks one by one and tears formed at the corner of your eyes and yet you cannot stop. They pet you on the head and shoot their load inside your mouth and you swallow. The humiliation is so great you start to cry and the crying becomes sobbing and you cannot stop. Your master walks over to you, without saying a word, flips you over on your back and start pumping in and out of your vagina and you had a screaming orgasm. Then he puts a dog collar around your neck and makes you crawl into a dog cage in the backyard and, panting, moaning, and crying, you obey, and you rub your clit and nipples as you crouches inside the dog cage in a fetal position and your white master takes pictures of you. You don’t care and you rub yourself to another orgasm inside the cage. After you have rubbed yourself to the third orgasm he releases you from the cage and tells you to go home.

You were completely naked and your clothes were thrown outside on the ground.

You put on your clothes in front of the gate to his house and you can still taste the cum from the three old white men you had sucked off. You take the subway and go back to your apartment and you couldn’t get out of your mind what had just happened and you rub yourself to another orgasm.

All week you keep on thinking about what will happen next week and when the weekend finally arrives you take the subway to his house and the anticipation of what is to come drives you crazy your legs start to shake. He strips you naked and ties you up in a spread-eagle position and starts to whip you with a belt. You whimper and moan and scream in pain. Then the door opens and several white men show up and your stomach knots and you start to cry from both ends. Your eyes are filled with salty rivers and your pussy is moist with love juice. Your white master notices. He wipes the juice from your pussy with his fingers, and then wipes them against the side of your cheeks. Your master and several other strangers take turns whipping you with their belts, smacking your with their hands, and then they take you down and tag-team on you in all possible positions.

There was not a moment when your holes were not filled with cocks.

Your master says you are his three holed fuck toy: “You are built to have all your yellow holes fucked. Look at yourself in the mirror. Those thick fat pussy lips, your tiny body and wide hips. I should put you on display and whore you out nonstop.” And you cum again.

After the gang bang your master makes you lick his asshole. “The greatest taste for a worthless slant eyed chink is the flavor from a white man. A white man’s unwashed asshole is musky and tasteful to a chink like you. You are born to be not just a cum rag for white men, but also as our ass wipe.” He says. With tears in your eyes you obediently crawl over yet again and starts to lick his asshole. The taste is salty and you are disgusted with yourself but you cannot stop. The image of yourself being degraded like a cheap Asian slut makes your mind explode with pleasure.

You become a regular at the “gangbang my Asian cunt” parties on weekends, where white men with Asian partners bring their wives/girlfriends over to be gangbanged. None of those Asians were prostitutes. Almost all of them are just like you, professional Asian ladies who graduated from top tier Ivy-League-level colleges and hold prestigious jobs in finance, technology, Silicon Valley, etc. The Asian women dress up in sexy lingerie and sometimes also cosplay as characters from anime and video games. Some cosplay as Chun-Li, some as Mai Shiranui. Your white master decides to make you wear a Cheongsam mini-dress with the sides cropped all the way to your hips and without wearing any bra or underwear, so as you serve drinks to the guests, anyone can see your naked pussy and ass flashing as you walk. You become acquainted with other Asian women at the party and make great friends. When their husbands/masters walk over, they ask you to perform lesbian sex acts with their Asians and your master approves.

You have never had lesbian tendencies but you are curious to try. You and another Asian woman—a 27 year old Japanese woman from Osaka—were placed in the center of the living room floor and you start to kiss and fondle each other. “Speak some Japanese to each other,” The party goers hollered. You both start conversing in Japanese and the people laughed. “Lick each other’s pussy.” The other girl crawls on top of you and starts licking your pussy. Her pussy is right on top of your face and you venture your tongue out to give it a taste. It’s sweet smelling and delicate, unlike the musky, salty taste of your master’s asshole.

As a cock enters your pussy below, you see another cock entering the pussy you are licking. “Keep licking,” a voice tells you. You get a close-up look at the action of what’s happening to your pussy vicariously. “It’s so much fun!” You laugh to yourself, and before you know it, the cock inside your pussy pulls out and another one is replaced. You feel cum oozing out from underneath and wonder how many white men will be breeding you tonight.

“How did I end up becoming like this,” sometimes you wonder. By the age of 30, you are still not married, and, though your parents and other relatives don’t say it quite openly, they know you are no longer a virgin. You tell them that you don’t have a boyfriend, but behind your back they all know you are seeing someone, most likely a white guy, and they are just too embarrassed to surmise the things you do with those secret white lovers that you have. It’s not like that they don’t have inklings of what you do. There are clues here and there, and besides, you have another cousin who is just like you. She did not marry until she was 36, but she had several secret white lovers before that. You open your Facebook once in a while and you see lots of the Asian girlfriends you had before who are your age and they are either single or married to some non-Asian guys, mostly white guys. But you don’t really care. Your life is transitory, contemporaneous, without remembrance of the past or worries about the future; or perhaps, like the characters from “100 Years of Solitude”, you just don’t have a past. You have forgotten everything before. You do not even think about the people who used to know you. Perhaps once in a while you will confabulate and concoct stories about your personal life during fits of mythomania just to impress the white men you are sleeping with, or to satisfy the curiosity of prying colleagues, but, truly, in full actuality, you live a completely solitary lifestyle, without anyone knowing in totality what exactly you do, or who you really are. Because not even yourself knows exact who you are or what you do anymore, because you have no relation with anyone from the past, no childhood friends, no relatives, no former classmates, no connection to anyone else who knew your past. You are just a shadow, and you are living in your dreams, and since your dreams themselves are shadows, then you are perhaps, like Hamlet would say, just a shadow’s shadow.

But I do not feel any sadness. I do not feel any emptiness. I do not feel any of the existential qualms that you make my life seem to be, you argue. I’m happy living this way.

But I’m not. A voice says to you, but will you ever hear it? Probably not. Besides, you don’t really know or care whose voice that is anyway.

My life is happy and that is all I care. You say. And never hear that voice ever again.

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.

8 thoughts on “An Asian Sex Education”

  1. …so, just wondering, why are the vast majority of sex crimes worldwide (rape, pedophilia etc) committed by white males if asian males are so frustrated with their sex/romance lives?

  2. I’m still unsure if your writing is all fiction or based on your own life experience or other Asian ladies experiences. Personally, I love Asian women and could never treat them with such disrespect the way “white men” do in your stories.

  3. Good job describing the life of asian men. It’s only natural that now that asian women have other options they won’t choose ricemen. Asian women will filter the bad genes with superior seed of other races, mostly found in white men.

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