Being gangbanged had reawakened in me that aspiration, that youthful dream of my girlhood, which, for many years, had been dissipated by the frivolities of my failed marriage, pregnancy, and motherhood.

It is true that I had dipped my toe into motherhood, and then tried to step out of it. I’m a failed mother, but what is more important to me is that I am a woman, and I have my needs as a fertile Asian female who craves freedom, and I want to pursue my dreams and ambitions. Without men and their cocks, I feel so alone, so lost, like a solitary ship in the open ocean, disoriented, desperate, clinging hopelessly to my engine, seeking the safe harbor of my soul. It is true that my divorce had destroyed that part of me that I’ve tried to pretend for nearly my entire adult life, and I no longer wish to live according to others’ wishes, opinions, and judgements anymore. 

And being gangbanged made me feel useful again. Being gangbanged made me forget that I’m a mother. In the moment of being gangbanged, I ceased to be a person. I was their toy, their slut, their fleshlight, and I felt so alive, so free, so valued, and so loved. 

In the midst of my gangbang, one of the guys took out his phone and started to film me. He told me that I “looked so hot” and he wanted to “share with the world” and that he wanted to “keep it as a memento of the great times”. Indeed, for those young white men, the great time has only just begun, while the rosy candle of my life was slowly tapering and withering, half-extinguished and deadened in its diminished light.  

Those men were not gentle with me, and that was exactly what I loved most about them. Those men were young, white, and not slightly or even subtly racist. No, they were openly racist toward me, and even though I knew it was wrong, I can’t deny that I was incredibly turned on by how racist they were. They degraded me racially, and they slapped my face, my tits, and my pussy as they fucked me, and I was so incredibly turned on by what they did to me. They treated me like a cheap Asian whore and after my gang bang, I ended up drinking their piss. Their piss felt warm to my face and tongue, and I was too exhausted to resist. 

I was in no position to tell them “no” when they wanted to film me. I was having one orgasm after another, sometimes the orgasms were stacked on top of one another and sometimes even folded within one another, with a small orgasm nestled inside a bigger one. A woman will never be able to resist men who make her cum. For a very long time I thought I was sexually inactive, but then I discovered the virility of white men, and that led me to endless sex, and ever since then, a lifelong obsession has enveloped me. Big white cocks have given me the most powerful orgasms of my life.

And when they were not fucking me, they were making fun of me. They made me crawl around their feet naked, wearing a dog collar and leash, and they joked that “chink whore will get tasered, and sent back to China” if I didn’t do as they ordered me. I was scared, but I was also turned on. I loved their aggression. I hungered for their savagery. The lights from their eyes streamed onto my naked body like refulgent glory of the dawn and even though the rain outside the windows were still drizzling, I felt hot inside me. 

Am I a sick woman? Am I a bad mother? Sometimes when I’m alone, feeling my pussy so sore from being fucked, my tits, and my ass all pinched and slapped red, I cry to myself thinking about how ashamed I should be, how immoral all this is. And yet I cannot stop. Being gangbanged is the convalescence my hurt spirit needs. 

The truth is, I’m in thrall with myself more than anything else. When they send me pictures they took of me, my eyes feasted upon them with deviant gluttony. I buried myself into the imagery they provoked inside my mind. The nondescript, resinous, dull, and indigestible smell and taste of their cum, mixed with my own pussy juice invaded my senses as images of my gangbang returned to me, wafted to me in the wind, and I felt alive again.

“You are our property now,” they said. And their words echoed inside the chamber of my heart and I found myself trembling with that subtle pleasure inside my pussy again. I wanted to spread my pussy lips with my fingers to release the tension inside my soul. I remember someone once told me: “The path to a woman’s heart is through her pussy,” and in my more naive periods I thought those were just the canard of misogynist and sexist trope, and yet, yet, as I grew older, I began to unfold their verisimilitude through my own actions and deeds. Belatedly and begrudgingly, I admitted to their veracity, with my lips bitten between my teeth and my hands tugged between my thighs.

Indeed it is true. I’m their property now. I have no means of escape. I love their white cocks so much, and I love looking at myself submitting to their superior white cocks. I’m a slave to my sexual desire.

After my gangbang session, some of their sperm had leaked out of my pussy but the majority of them had been left inside me, inside my vagina, my rectum, and my stomach. Sometimes I felt so dirty, and yet I also felt weak, knowing that I’m a marked property. I’ve been marked with their cum. They shared what they filmed with their friends and they said that other guys are now interested to join for my next gang bang session, and asked me if it’s okay. Timidly, I agreed. I no longer know what limit I will be.