I’m an Asian mother with two children and a loving family, and yet there I was, naked, collared, on my knees humping the leg of a white man, like a bitch in heat …

1.

By the time I turned 35, I have finally come to the realization, that I can’t enjoy sex unless I’m being treated like a whore.

All my life I’ve been living in denial, in denial of who I really am.

Once I’ve tasted that elixir of sexual orgasm achieved through coercion, humiliation, physical violence, and torture, nothing else in life can satisfy me. I become starved when I’m not in that state of bliss.

There was a period of my life when I was seeking 7 different guys at the same time. And what follows is a description, a mixture of diary and reflection, lived experience and introspection, of what it means to be an Asian slut.

2 of the 7 guys I was seeing were my doms who trained me to be submissive. The rest were friends with benefits (fwbs). All of them were different shades of white: Italian, Irish, British, Scottish, even Jewish and white Hispanic (Brazilian by nationality, German by ethnicity). I let those men take turns using all my Asian holes.

And when I’m not being fucked, I masturbate myself at home. I knew my son could hear my moans as I masturbated. I didn’t feel the need to hide my sexuality from him. He is 18 years old and he should know that Asian women need white cocks.

2.

On a Friday evening, I went to see my fwbs, and as soon as I met with my fwb #1 inside a diner, I was flushed from head to toe with a rush of horny. The thought that after the beef steak and the salad, I would be eating his BWC for desert made my heart jump and my face melted and contorted and if I weren’t in a public place, I would have started to rub my hands against my clit and nipples which were already hard like rocks. There is a saying, when a woman approaches 30, she becomes ravenous like a wolf. When a woman approaches 40, she becomes aggressive like a tiger. I didn’t realize the truth of those idioms until now.

3.

I couldn’t wait anymore. As soon as I entered his apartment, I rushed to strip off my panties and let my fwb #1 stick his hardened penis inside my vagina. As soon as the tip of his cock head touched my pussy lips, I murmured OMG it feels good.

And just then, as his cock thrust into my pussy, suddenly the image of my son masturbating at home and smearing his cum on my panties and bra flashed through my mind and at the same time an orgasm flooded through my entire body.

I felt guilty to be honest. I felt angry with myself. I felt scared that my fwb’s cum had been deposited inside my vagina. I loved being fucked bareback. Being cummed inside made me feel alive, but post-coitus anxiety also was very real for me. After my night of debauchery, when I went home, my son always asked me “Where have you been all night, mom?”, with his eyes wide and round, and a flicker of devilish smile on the edge of his mouth.

With cum still dripping out of my pussy, I went over to fwb#2 and we “watched netflix and chilled”. My fwbs ranged from guys in their twenties that could potentially be classmates to my son to guys in their eighties who were older than my granddad (if he were still alive). My fwb#2 was near the age of retirement, single, living with just a dog and a “stepson” that he adopted from China ten years ago.

6.

While I was out bar hopping with my fwb #3, my son texted me and asked me where I was. Sometimes he texted. And if I didn’t respond to his text, he called. Even when he didn’t text or call, he peppered me with questions when I got home. So this particular Friday I texted back telling him that I was hanging out with a few girlfriends and that he should go to sleep now.

I know I talk about my son a lot. For those of you who do not have kids, let me tell you having children changes you. It absolutely does. My son is my entire life and I love my son, and even though I do enjoy the company of other men, and I indulge in sexual escapades with many of them, at the end of the day, my connection to them is merely physical, and if they become too romantically attached to me, or displeases me in anyway, I leave. On the other hand I will never leave my son. My spiritual loves belongs to my son and only to my son. No body else comes even close.

7

Being a virile young man of half white and half Asian heritage, my son is naturally curious about sex, especially about Asian female sexuality and is very eager to experiment, and I’m actually very happy to participate and I have served as his guinea pig on various sexual experiments that he is interested to perform.

I have so far allowed my son to freely examine all my sexual organs so he does not have any mystery about Asian females in general. I let my son play with my nipples, ass, and pussy whenever he wanted. Initially I was hesitant about letting him touch my pussy, but it seemed to me that the more I refused him, the more he wanted to touch it, and so I ended up yielding to his wishes. I told my son very explicitly that, if you ever felt the urge to play with mommy’s pussy, all you have to do is ask, and I will gladly drop my panties and spread my legs for you.

This is what I do for any white man ayway. And being half white himself, my son gets the entire privilege to have free access to my pussy. And of course he has taken that privilege very well.

Right now he is not content with just playing with my pussy using his fingers. He has tried to insert various objects inside my pussy to test the depth and holding capacity of it. And I’m as always very happy to assist in his exploration.

The fact of the matter is, letting my son having a free rein over me is causing me to be sexually aroused all the time. For instance, when my son plays with my nipples and then plays with my pussy, my nipples are hard like little marbles, and my pussy became very moist and discharges transparent goo. He notices it of course but he doesn’t seem to fully understand what it means. He is very curious about the wetness and the liquid. A friend of his suggested that he put small marble balls inside my pussy and see if it gets wetter and this is exactly what my son plans on doing.

8

By the time fwb #3 and I made back to his place, it was close to midnight. We showered together and then I went home. Sometimes I chose to stay overnight. But it depended on my schedule, and whether or not fwb #4 was available.

9

Natural life is the nourishing soil of the soul. Anyone who fails to go with life remains suspended, stiff, rigid in mid air. That is why so many people get wooden in old age; they look back and cling to the past with a secret fear of the future in their hearts. They withdraw from the life process, at least psychologically, and consequently remain fixed like nostalgic pillars of salt, with vivid recollections of youth but no living relation to the present. From the middle of life onward, only she who remains vitally alone is ready to die with life.

Sometimes I feel I didn’t begin to live until I turned 35. I became more nervous, edgy, and neurotic. My mood swings became more violent. And at the same time, I became more submissive toward men. I suppose it is the realization that I’m no longer the beautiful woman that every man once adulated, worshiped, and would have died for just to be close to me. And as Carl Jung would have said, now I must confront the other part of life, the inevitable coming of death. Fear of death is fear of life itself. I would rather that I leave this world without any regret.

My fwb#4 has the biggest cock and at the age of 21, he was in the same age range as my son. His cock stretched my pussy to its limit and when I was being fucked in the cowgirl position, I could see my own pussy lips gripping onto his cock like a suction cup. Which cause me to orgasm immensely.

I never ask my fwbs to use condoms because the feeling of a white man’s dick cumming inside me is my biggest cravings. The feeling is surreal: his cock throbbing, the short, violent, final thrusts as he chased each pulsed shot of his ejaculation. The feeling of his flesh hardening into me, stirring, and not knowing when it would happen but predestined to be happening anytime soon. And the fear. The risk.

Of course I’m fully aware of the risk. If I did not take those risks, I could not have become a mother by now.

But the risk made it all the more thrilling.

10

On Saturday morning I met with my dom #2. As soon as I entered his house he made me crawl with a dog collar and leash and took naked photos of me. He also had a basement where he had lots of BDSM equipment like pillories, cages, and he had his own photo studio. Dom #2 was married and his wife was interested in me as well. After my session we—me, him, and his wife–all had lunch around 3 PM and I went home.

11

On Saturday evening I met my dom #1. My dom #1 turned me on the most. He was rough, aggressive, and while I did appreciate men who were nice and kind, which all of my other fwbs satisfies, I got truly turned on when I was being degraded and humiliated, and which was what my dom #1 did. He not only verbally degraded me, calling me very degrading nicknames, but also treated me like a piece of garbage and it just got my aching cunt really wet.

The backdoor to his house was always unlocked and at our arranged time I let myself in and the second I walked into his presence I ceased being a person. I was his “bitch, whore, slut, fuck toy, cum dump,” and whatever other degrading names he wanted to call me.

My dom#1 didn’t ever fuck me. He only used me. For dom #1 I was only good for humiliation and abuse.

I licked his armpit, his feet, his asshole, and his balls. I was not allowed to suck his cock without permission. I prostrated before him, like a bond slave, and begged him to use me however he wishes. I begged him to spank me, flog me with his belt, and used my mouth as his ashtray.

He and I always found the most creative ways to humiliate me. Example: It was my idea that he should use my mouth as an ashtray. He came up with the idea of putting a flesh light in my mouth. When he watched porn, he fucked the flesh light that was stuck inside my mouth.

We often watched porn together and we watched a lot of SM, gangbang, interracial WMAF, mostly amateur ones. And we often came up with ideas and scenes inspired by those porn.

It was my dom #1 who trained me to drink piss.

Like Dostoevsky’s idiot, I initially was repulsed by the idea and of course refused. After the initial refusal, I began to fantasize about it. But no matter how strong the impulse, implementing it in real life made me hesitant.

But my dom was the asbolute gem in obedience training of sluts like me. He was patient, generous, and unique in his abilities to soothe and adopt.

The first time: he mixed his piss into my fruit punch. I couldn’t taste it at all. But I knew that there was his piss in my drink. The lack of smell and taste helped me overcoming my aversion towards drinking piss.

Then, he mixed his piss into the food I ate, and this time in higher concentration. I definitely smelled and tasted his piss, but if I ate my food without complaining, I was rewarded with an orgasm, and if I stopped and gagged, I was slapped. Motivated, and the fact that it was my favorite food, I became used to the taste of piss in my mouth.

The next morning I ate my cereal mixed in his piss and nothing else. By noon time I was sent home with a water bottle filled with his piss and I was told to drink it in small quantities throughout the day.

Once at time I was instructed to drink my own piss by pissing into a cup first.

After a week of training, I was able to drink my dom’s piss directly from his dick without any complaint.

To celebrate my achievement, he took pictures of me drinking his piss . He said one day he would like to have those pictures sent to my family.

Sometimes I would fall asleep and awake in the middle of the night for short snatches, thinking that he has finally done it and I can’t stop rubbing my clit over the excitement of finally becoming a ruined whore.

And during those fitful hours at midnight, I heard the irregular beating of my own heart, and I opened my eyes to settle upon the shifting kaleidoscope of my own dark depravity.

In addition to those pictures of me drinking piss, I have tons of pictures and videos of me sucking cocks, being fucked by different guys, double and triple penetrated, etc. There is a secret stash of my lewd selfies that I keep on my phone and laptop.

12

One time we watched an amateur porn where an Asian whore was holding piss enema inside her ass and he decided to try it on me. I laid down in the bathtub, with my feet over my head and then he put a speculum inside my asshole and aimed his piss at my asshole. Piss dripped all over my body, my mouth, my face, my tits, and my hair. Some of it ended up in my rectum, but not all of it. It was good enough. He pulled out the speculum, replaced it with a butt plug and made me hold it in place.

The piss inside my rectum made me feel so dirty, and yet so horny. And when the horniness passed, I felt a sickness inside my stomach thinking about the level of depravity I have stooped to.

13

I worship White Men. I exist just to serve White Men. Not just in the sexual sense. I am White Men’s 24/7 slave, domestic, sexual, no-limits, no-bars-hold, no rights, no human dignity, total, complete consummate slave.

White Men are literally my gods.

There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for my White Men and I want White Men to know that they deserve nothing less than total submission and devotion from a yellow slut like me.

I worship the ground White Men walk on. I kiss White Men’s feet, suck their balls, I let White Men use my mouth as a urinal, I eat White Men’s asses in front of all my Asian family members.

I strive to fulfill all the fantasies of White Men no matter how depraved they may be. I bring other Asian girls for White Men to fuck. I give massages to White Men, let them use me as a cock sleeve while they watch porn or look at pictures of other women.

I want White Men to do anything they want to me. I want to give White Men complete access not just to my body, my soul, but also to my bank accounts, my house, my personal data, etc. I want to crawl between White Men’s feet like a bitch in heat. I want to stay at home and cook for them, clean their houses, wash their clothes while they go out and fuck other women and have fun. I will clean White Men’s toilets with my tongue. I will polish their shoes with my mouth.

I want to forever remain an inferior Asian slave and serve my superior, powerful White Masters and deify all the White Men to become gods and turn all the Asian women into their whores just like me, because that’s what White Men deserve.

This is a mantra for Asian sluts that I wrote for my dom at the time. I found it in my diary and I decided to include it here. I love writing manifestos, mantras, and other erotic-philosophical treatises like those above, and when I’m over at my dom’s place, I strip naked, kneel before him, and read those out loud as he videotaped me.

I promised my dom #1 that one day I will give those videos to my son and daughter so they could learn from their mother on how to become a proper Asian slut. My daughter is 21 and currently attending MIT in Massachusetts. I’m very proud of her, and, of course, she only dates white guys.

14

I courage my dom#1 to come up with creative ideas to humiliate and torture me, and in some sick and twisted way, I see in my dom#1 qualities which I have been nurturing in my son.

I love the fact that both my dom and my son treat me as if I were a worthless whore and order me to do whatever they were pleased and not caring a thing about what I want. Of course I would never admit it in words to them, but I guess they both knew that I was okay with all this.

One time my dom made me dress like a cheap whore and drove me to that part of town where there were a lot of Asian prostitutes and made me stand on the street corner and pretended that I was one of them.

It was one of those “Chinatowns” in New York City and there was a particular street which was lined with lots and lots of massage parlors and Chinese hookers walked around asking men to go inside. You could easily tell that they were prostitutes. Something about the way they looked at men, the way they stood, the way the dressed.

When I saw those Asian hookers I was immensely humiliated and to become one of them made my heart sink and my pussy tingle. It was one of those things that I’ve always wanted to try, and my dom #1 decided to help me fulfill my sick fantasy.

I use the word “sick” because that is what I was told. I was told by the polite society to hide those “sick” urges because they are not proper, “good”, “normal”, or “healthy,”, but my dom#1, whom I loved as much as I loved my son, never felt that way about me. He was always supportive of me, and told me that there was nothing wrong with pursuing my desires and helped me become the “depraved asian slut” that I always dreamed about.

I was wearing a tight miniskirt, no panties, and a top without a bra and it was in December. He told me to go walk on the street and before I got out of the car he gave me a remote controlled vibrator and told me to stick it inside my pussy and hold it in by squeezing my thighs together. I wore heavy makeup so no one could recognize me.

I knew I looked like another cheap Asian whore on the prowl for cocks and it made me excited. My heart was fluttering with the absurd notion that I could run into an old acquaintance, a former classmate, a friend, or even a family member. I thought that my ex husband might accidentally walk on the same sidewalk, grab me by my shoulders and ask me “Are you really who I think you are?” I even thought about the absurd situation where my son and daughter might accidentally saw me like this.

As I stood on the frosty December wind, at least a few hundred men and women passed by me. Some women sneered at me. Some men completely ignored me. They passed by me as if I was invisible as the air. Then there were men who ogled at me.

Those men stopped in the middle of the street and stared at my tits and ass, leered at me, catcalled me, made gestures to my naked legs and grinned and spoke nasty words.

In those strangely inspired, misshapen adventures, the cosmos of my own sexuality was made the object of my virulent exegesis.

15

There are certain desires, confined to the soul, which, as soon as we have allowed them to grow, insist upon being gratified, whatever the consequence may be.

I was surrounded by a dozen men. They first degraded me with nasty remarks. Then they started touching me. One guy touched my shoulder. Seeing that I offered no resistance, another caressed my bare legs. Within a few minutes, another emboldened predator pinched my nipples through my top and then another person from behind me lifted up my skirt, revealing my bare pussy and ass. I was now sandwiched and I had no way to escape. The thought that I was going to be gang banged ran through my mind. I thought they were going to strip me completely naked in the middle of the street, take me by a leash and publicly humiliate me like they did in those ancient times.

Besides being a slut, I’m an avid reader. Right now I’m reading the works of Walter Benjamin, the collected works of Carl Jung, classical erotica written by Anais Nin, etc. I love reading, and when I’m not reading the life and experience of others, being as old as I am now, I want to experience life. I want to live life to the fullest.

My dom watched me from the car. Our eyes met and with my hands I desperately peeled away the crowd and ran toward the car. The vibrator that was stuck inside my pussy fell off and all the men behind me were laughing hysterically. I was humiliated, shocked, horrified. The whole episode left me badly shaken. I had been introduced to a seamy, seedy, tenebrous side of sexual life that I had not known existed before—the excitement of being a real whore. At that moment I became so horny I had trouble standing on my legs, not to mention walking. I would have crawled back with my ass and pussy fully exposed.

Thinking back now, I might have had a mini orgasm as soon as I ran toward the car.

I pulled on the car door but my dom had locked the door and I was holding the vibrator with one hand and banging on the window with the other. After a few minutes of me pitifully begging he finally relented and let me back inside and as soon as I was in the safety of my car I masturbated myself and cummed the most hardest cumming I ever did.

At that moment, with my fingers on my clit and my other hand rubbing my nipples, on the backseat of my dom’s sedan, I felt completely isolated, and with a moat or lacuna or sexual tension all surrounding me I lost myself in an island of bliss. I was then a woman without a past or a future. I lived in a single moment of being, in bliss, in ecstasy, in pure freedom.

Outside the car window the men had followed me and were watching me. They stared and hollered and growled and yet their existence became to me mere reduction s disconnected, incoherent flux of spatial phases and temporal aberrations.

My dom drove me off and as we drove off the men behind the car became distant shadows.

After I went home, I masturbated myself several more times recollecting all that had happened. And then, I got on my knees, crawled to my dom, thanked him, and rubbed my pussy against his legs until I cummed again. I have never felt happier and I had never experienced so much sexual freedom as I was enjoying then.