When I was younger, I used to be ashamed of those feelings. Feelings that I get when I was humiliated, degraded, made inferior in front of white men. Yet after the feelings of shame washed away, I always ended up coming back and asking for more. I crave the sexual humiliation in front of white men even more so than the actual sexual act itself.

As I got older and even became a mother, I had thought, those phases of my life would pass, and it was true, those feelings did pass for a while, while I was married, and yet like a recurring nightmare they came back, crawling into my brain like a parasitic infection.

I once thought I wouldn’t ever come back, to stoop so low into such depravity. I once thought I wouldn’t ever get off from being verbally degraded, physically abused, and sexually molested by white men, again. Yet here I was, whored out to white men who were not just racist to me, but who outright treated me like garbage.

Eventually I learned, I stopped fighting my sick urges, those urges that have always accompanied me since my teenage years.

I suppose I need to accept myself for what I am. I need to be made feeling inferior. I need to be made feeling worthless. I need superior white men to treat me as a punching bag, taking out their frustrations pounding my holes, human toilet, relieving their urine into my mouth, my pussy, and ass.

Perhaps you are right, I’m sick. I need help. I’ve been destined to this road down to depravity since I was born.

I now accept myself for who I am. An inferior Asian slut who craves the dominance of my white master.

2.

Today I fucked up. And my dom decided that I need to be punished. A group of his friends wanted to see me, “we want to see this inferior ch**k fucktoy you got”, and my dom had ordered me to clamp my nipples and meet them over zoom. Instead I told him I was too tired and took a nap.

Well, my dom was very displeased. I had embarrassed him in front of his friends. He came home from work. My kids had gone to bed. In a stern voice he ordered me to go to the bedroom, strip, and spread my pussy lips wide and wait for him.

When saw me, with my hands splaying open my pussy, spread on bed, he said I didn’t do a very good job.

He took out those large, black, paper clips that you use for office supplies and clamped them on my nipples, clit, and pussy lips. Gagged my mouth with a penis gag. Took out two dildos and stuffed them inside my pussy and ass. With all my holes plugged, I was ordered to lay still. Then he took out a thick black marker and wrote “CH**K” in giant letters across my chest.

Worst of it all, he was not going to fuck me. He brought another Asian woman home and fucked her as I lay naked, clamped, and plugged, watching them defiling my own bed.

He fucked the Asian woman to multiple orgasms. After he was done fucking her, he whipped my ass with his belt and didn’t stop until I was a sobering, whimpering mess.

I was aware that my son was able to hear everything that was going on in my bedroom.

3.

It was perhaps not the best decision in the world that I allowed my dom to move in with me. In fact, during his interactions with my son, he had encouraged my son to have no respect for women. He told him that “women, especially Asian women like your mother, are nothing but a set of holes.”

“She is just a set of holes. And she is built to have all her holes fucked 24-7, preferably at the same time and with plenty of big hard cocks in queue to replace the others that are finished. Asian whores like your mother should be put on display and whored out non stop, wouldn’t you agree? What are you, a faggot? Aren’t you proud to have a whore for a mother?”

This was a typical conversation my dom had with my son.

Instead of becoming angry, my son actually agreed with my dom in his very misogynistic treatment of women and became an eager complicit in his endeavor of debauchery.

“No, I’m not a faggot. I’m a white man. A white man deserves to use an Asian cunt like my mom. We should hold a gangbang party for my mom on weekends. Only white men will be invited. She will serve drinks and mingle with all the guests, and they will grope and fondle her while she’s serving them. We should put a gyno table in the middle of the living room, and as soon as I ring a bell we put her into the chair and put her legs up in the stirrups. All the partygoers would watch as she masturbates herself with her dildo. After she fucks herself, we should all take out our cocks and fuck her.”

“You don’t care she is your mother?”

“She is my mother but she is also a slut. She deserves it.”

“That’s a good boy.”

“I’m not a boy. I’m a man. I’m a white man. Asian whores like my mom should be serving me like she served my white dad.”

4.

Daily my inferior Asian cunt craves the dominance of the superior white men. When I’m not being put into my proper place, I feel irritated, restless, and neurotic. The strong, hard slap from the hand of a white man, on the other hand, instantly cures me of my insecurities, my mood swings, my depressions. I crave this kind of treatement. It makes me comfortable in my inferiority, let me breathe in it, drown in it, stew in it.

After the restless night, I cowered myself into a fetal position and eventually fell asleep, my mind and body numb from the humiliation and abuse.

Around noon time, I finally was able to get up and went about my day. My dom had already left for work and I cleaned, cooked, and cried a good cry as I masturbated myself to an orgasm.

My phone rang in the afternoon. My dom told me he was going to bring his friends over and I was to “prepare myself.”

Evening.

I donned my nipple clamps, anal beads inside my ass, dog collar with a big O ring dangling in front of my chest, wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs clicking against each other. I greeted my dom and his friends in front of the door.

My dom was pleased.

My dom and his friends had no respect for me nor for my family. And yet the more they humiliated me, degraded me, the more turned on I was. I’ve put myself in dangerous situations before, but not like this. I woke up in the middle of the night, imagining that if I were ever the premier or the president of some Asian country, I would declare total and complete defeat at the feet of an American president. Inferior Asian whores like me are not fit to lead, but only to be subjugated.

My dom let my son control my remote vibrator.

Once, to satisfy the sick and depraved wishes of my dom, I brought one of those wearable remote vibrators that pair with an app so someone far away can control it. I was out for some errands and my dom and my son were home alone. Unbeknownst to me, my dom had told my son about it and he told him that it would be “hilarious if I got my mom to use it in public and I get to control her vibrator.”

My dom called me on my phone, put it on speaker while my son stayed quiet and worked the app while he talked to me. They both listened to me cumming my brains out in a grocery store.

I was floored when I found out the truth. However, that was not the end of my humiliation, but the beginning. My dom was previously married to an American women, and he had two sons and a daughter. After letting my son control my vibrator, he had passed the game onto his sons. After that, he passed it onto guys he met at bars and clubs.

5.

I had all my life had been accustomed to harbor thoughts that were forbidden to be voiced. Those thoughts, formless, mindless, and shapeless, became the basis of my struggle throughout my adult years. They belonged to me and were mine own, and I even entertained the conviction that I had a right to those thoughts because they concerned no one but myself.

Even when I’m alone, all by myself, as I walked down the street, fully clothed, those thoughts come rushing toward me, like hands poking though my cunt. The hunger inside my womb was like a raging fire. I thought I it would drive me insane.

I was and I am now forever a slave to white men. White men rule over me as kings. My pleasure was subordinated to theirs.

Those thoughts formed words and whispered to me.

I am still infatuated with white men. I had tried to forget about white men, realizing the futility of remembering. But those thoughts are like obsessions, ever pressing themselves upon me.

Flashes of all the white men who have fucked me appeared before my eyes. It was not the details of our acquaintances, our passionate nights together, that dwelt upon my mind. It was their being, their existence, which dominated me, which, sometimes fading, sometimes lucid, eventually melt into the mist of forgetting; then, out of nowhere, reviving again with an intensity which filled me with an incomprehensible longing.