Asian sluts love being used by white men.

There’s nothing like having a strong, tall, White man just completely taking control of their small, frail bodies and using it solely for HIS pleasure. It’s when an asian is acutely aware of how tiny and feeble she is compared to a real man.

When a White Man really uses her and fucks her as rough as he can, she comes to terms with the worthlessness she feels everyday when she looks at her slanted oriental features, her tiny slit eyes, her tiny asian breasts, her flat face and her tomboy-like flat body. Finally, she is being treated like an inferior being that she has always known she is. No more political-correctness bullshit that tries to coddle her feelings … in the bedroom, the White Man finally puts the asian in her place.

The small chink slut gets slapped, spat on, and finally passes out. It is absolutely degraded and abused. And when the White Man finally tells the whimpering, sobbing chink slut to fuck off, he smiles to himself knowing that the chink slut will come back for more.

A chink’s life

A chink’s ultimate goal in life is to be fully owned by a White Man. Not just in sex. But to have her whole life and decisions dictated by the White Man. Nothing feels better for a chink than to surrender all control, all desires, all needs, all independence; just obey and serve a White Man.

Once you feel that collar around your neck and you hear the latch click. Once he puts the cuffs on your wrists and the chains on your feet. Once you see Him throw the key drown the drain. Then you know, you can serve with dedicated purpose for the rest of your life.

You wake up in the morning in your cage. Shackled and blindfolded. Your body clock has adjusted to your Master’s daily rituals and you know he’s waking up. You hear him stirring in his bed. You know he’ll be hard and horny. He gets up and you hear the footsteps coming closer. He opens your cage; he doesn’t need to lock it ’cause he knows you’ll never run away.

He takes your blindfolds and shackles off. The keys to your shackles are inside the cage but you never touch them. He looks at you and you remain silent. You learned the hard way that one time you spoke without being spoken to. He looks angry, like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. You brace yourself for a rough morning.

He grabs your collar and yanks you from the cage. He drags you across the floor as the collar chokes you. You gag and cry as you hold on to the collar while trying to gasp for air. In one swift motion, he pulls your thin 100-pound body in the air with his massive arm and hurls you onto the bed. You land hard and get winded.

In a second, he’s on top of you and pinning you down. You know he won’t use lube this morning. He ravages your cunt and asshole and fucks you dry. You scream and cry but you take it. He’s in a bad mood and the tiniest bit of resistance would mean being locked in your cage for days on end.

He fucks you hard, grunts loudly, and cums inside you. He spits in your face. He drags you by your collar again and puts you back in your cage. He puts your blindfold back on and shackles your wrists once again.

He speaks. “No food for you today. I want your asshole perfectly clean tonight.”

You nod as your stomach rumbles in hunger.

Good chink,” he says.

You smile.

the diary of a white-cock-worshipping asian slut

His strong arms pinned my legs down before I could react. I was folded up, as if I was a toy to be played with. I looked even tinier than I normally was, and I was already especially tiny for an asian.

I always wondered why asian people are smaller than white people in general, like how asian boys are much shorter and small than white boys, and not just with penis size, but with asian girls we are even tinier. It’s as if asians naturally have smaller frames since we are destined to be used and subjugated by the bigger white men … the hierarchy of race, I guess.

His arms were wrapped around my legs and I was completely immobile. I knew resistance would be futile and I just steeled myself for the pain that was about to come.

“You ready chink?” he said, the lust and anticipation in his voice clearly evident.

“Yes Sir!” I lied. One could never be ready for a white cock … tiny asian bodies were never built to handle the size of a white cock, but our asian minds make us hunger for it, so we brave the pain just to be able to serve.

His cock went inside me faster than I anticipated and a jolt of pain surged from my pussy and throughout my body. It hurt. it felt like someone was punching me inside.

“That’s it … you’re gonna take it whore!” he said as he started pounding me harder.

Before I could stop myself, I started to sob. The pain was unbearable and with his every thrust, I left out a feline cry.

“Shut up bitch. I told you if you make a noise, I’m going to fuck you harder” he said as his thrust went deeper and faster. The pain became intolerable.

I had to stifle my sobs. I didn’t want a repeat of last time when my sobs were uncontrollable and he just ravaged me until the pain made me black out.

“That’s it chink, you’re a good chink.” he said as he slowed down again. I was relieved as the pain became manageable again. I was sure he would punish me for that sob I accidentally left out.

He leaned closer to my ear and whispered, “But I explicitly told you before … not one single sob ever again. You let out a sob again today, and now you will be punished.”

My eyes darted in fear as I started to plead, “No … no sir … please I’m sorry … no!”

His arms held my legs tighter as he fucked me harder and stronger than ever before.

The last thing I remember were my sobs coming back before I passed out.

When a Shanghai girl meets an Aussie boy …

当上海女孩遇见澳洲男孩。。。

I was on a working holiday in a small farming town in the middle of the Australian Outback …

I was born and raised in Shanghai and I consider myself to be an urbane, well-educated, modern Chinese woman of upperclass bringing, but I was excited for some adventure. Australia always allured me with photos of its culture, its European heritage, its marvelous architecture, its natural beauty, and most importantly of all, men, European men who were once criminals, destined to perish in cold, damp, solitary prisons but were set free in the wilderness of Australia and overcame all obstacles to survive, and not only survive, but to have built this once savage nation into a country on par with their ancestors, Europe.

White European Men, descendants of Charlemagne, who seemed to be the epitome of masculinity with their tall, tanned, and muscular bodies. It was a dream come true to finally travel to Australia.

I found a small idyllic farm, like the one described in Flaubert’s novel Madame Bovary, its rugged western scenes like it were in Thomas Hardy’s The Return of the Native, which my professor taught to me in my English literature classes at Fudan University. The farmer was an old, wrinkled white man but from his features I could tell, in his younger years, if he wished, he could have had any Chinese woman he wanted. He was quiet, rarely talking to me aside from telling me what to do on the farm.

Every day I would voluntarily go out to the field and help out in any way I can, as a good Asian guest, and everyday I saw his son. His son was perfect and attractive and I was smitten. He usually tended the field without his shirt on and I could see his muscles rippling as he operated the tractor.

He never spoke to me and I wasn’t sure if he caught me staring. He never as much gave me a glance. Every night when I went back to my bed in the barn, I would think about him, imagining what it would be like to kneel in front of him and suck his white cock.

On one hot summer day, the work at the farm was especially grueling and his aryan son was working hard in the fields. I couldn’t stop staring at his physique and I was so enamored by looking at him. I would have stayed there the whole day staring at him but the heat was unbearable. I decided to head back to the barn and take a nap.

My eyes slowly fluttered open as I heard a deep voice awakening me from my nap.

“Oi, chink.”

I looked up and there he was. Sitting in front of me with his shirt off and his pants down. He had a cigarette and he was flexing his huge arms. His massive thighs were like tree trunks and they were spread wide to reveal his hard white cock … his cock was even bigger than what I imagined. It was thick and veiny, and erect like a tower. His huge balls hung low at my eye level.

I slowly stared up at him and I was speechless.

“Yah think I didn’t notice ye looking at me? That’s right, I know yer a slut for white cock. Yah want some of this Aussie cock I reckon. Fuckin rice cooker. Come on, I know yer kind, you better suck this cock good, and don’t you dare walk away while you are sucking me off, chink I’m going to bloody fuck you like the fuckin cunt that yah are and I’ll blow heaps of cum right inside. Now get started.”

I nodded silently, knelt in front of him, wrapped my lips around his enormous Aussie cock, and began …

The feeling of a White Cock in your Asian pussy …

The feeling of a Big White Cock sliding in your asian pussy is absolutely amazing.

To feel every inch going deeper and deeper is simply not possible with an asian guy’s cock. White cocks have that length and girth to completely fill up a tight asian hole. To stretch it wide until it is left gaping wide enough for a White Man to just easily withdraw and ram his cock back in. Only White cock is long enough to completely penetrate deep in an asian hole and hit the spot.

And ultimately, it is the thought of having White meat sliding in your asian pussy that just turns you on the most. To know that a REAL man is using you is better than any feeling his cock can give.

Just listen to your moans and whimpers when you get fucked by a White Man. When it’s an asian guy, your moans are perfunctory and fake, like acting out a scene in a porno. But when it’s a White Man fucking you, your moans come from deep within. It’s a guttural high-pitched sound that you cannot control. It naturally comes out once he slides into you.

It’s the moan of true pleasure.

It’s the language of being Asian.

I put the Big White Cock in my mouth and close my eyes …

I am not worthy to see what a real man looks like.

Memories of my childhood come rushing back to me. Of how I’ve always looked at White Men and wished I could be around them. Of seeing the white boys among my classmates going through puberty, seeing them grow tall and muscular, seeing their chest hair underneath the collar of their shirts … seeing them grow from boys into men, White Men, seeing how big a White Cock really was the first time I got fucked. … Of realizing as an asian girl living in America, I was destined to be their whore.

I hold on to His shaft. It’s thick and I grasp it in my tiny hand. It reminds me of the broom handle at home that I use to sweep the floor with as my father watched Asian soap opera on the television in the living room.

I smell the scent of His musky pubes. His pheromones linger in my nostrils and I think of the sweaty white athletes in my high school. How they all smelled of grown men while they were just teenagers.

I taste his pre-cum as I slid my lips further down his hard cock. It was thick and I can taste the bittersweet flavor. It reminds me of the bland congee my mother made for me growing up.

He calls me “chink”. And I’m reminded of all the white men I’ve met in my life. My teachers, my professors, my superiors at work, my supervisor, my thesis advisor, my boyfriends, my hook ups … all the White Men that have revealed to me my own inferiority as a white-owned asian slut.

Finally … I open my eyes. I look up to Him. My Master, my King, my God, my reason for existence. I see every inch of his thick cock extending from my lips all the way to his blonde bush. I raise my eyes, past his treasure trail and hairy chest, up to his thick neck and rough beard, and finally meet his blue eyes.

I lose myself in those deep blue eyes. Like an ocean threatening to drown me in my powerless position. Twin tidal waves making me gag and lose my breath. I am a chink lost at sea, and the White Man is my lifesaver and weight, lifting me up with his powerful hip and pulling me further down with his muscular hands, marking with his urine over his property, handing my life over to Him as an asian bitch for White Men.

Sooner or later, White Men must learn: not all races are created equal

When the founding fathers of the white gods that created white civilization gave white men such invaluable assets such as human rights, equality, freedom, etc., they only meant for those things to be applied to other white men. Human rights should only be applied to white people, and not to inferior races of nonhumans. Freedom only meant that white men should be free, not that white men should go around doling out freedom to natural slaves.

Races are as genetically different as species.

Whereas some races are barbaric savages that should be catapulted into space or cloistered to Africa, or otherwise quarantined, some other more feminine and docile races, such as Asians, who are beautiful with light skin, highly intelligent, exquisitely delicate and extremely submissive, should be kept as pets for white owners. Asian females are considered very pretty and know how to worship white men and so should be used as concubines or sex slaves for white men’s sexual entertainment, whereas Asian males, if they are effeminate and docile like girls, should be shot full of estrogen and be turned into sexy shemales, but if they are rebellious, should be fully castrated and serve as enunchs. They will be happy that they are spared and be allowed to live, because white men are merciful and full of the milk of human kindness.

I lost my virginity to a white man

PART 1

I was romantically involved with an Asian boy when I was in high school, but we were just friends. I knew he liked me, and he knew I liked him, but we were both too scared to admit it. We never even held hands or hugged. We were platonic friends. After he graduated from high school, he tried to contact me, but my mother forbade him to ever talk to me again. I heard that he became extremely miserable and tried to commit suicide a few times. At the time I was also in college and I was miserable too. I was depressed and I took out all my energy on studying. I excelled in college and landed a job as an associate manager for a five star hotel corporation, and I was dispatched to Shanghai, China. At this point in my life, I had yet to have any sexual relationship with anyone. I always wished that I could save my first time for that Asian boy I used to know in high school. I had never heard from him again ever since. He had no facebook, no linkedin, no twitter, no social media presence at all. I heard from some classmates that he had dropped out of college. I was very depressed and I always had hoped that he would contact me again, but never ever again did I hear from him.

Then my boss, a white expat from England, came into my life. The five star hotel in Shanghai that I worked for was almost exclusively serving foreigners, white foreigners from Europe, North America and rich Middle Eastern states such as Saudi Arabia, and all the staff were Asians. They were Chinese waitresses, servants, housekeepers, greeters, etc. They were all very servile and you can almost feel the racial dynamic if you had stepped into the hotel. It was an exorbitant hotel, with enormous dome-like hallways and golden rims and large crystal lights, and all the guests were white, and all the servants were Chinese.

Long story short, I became sexually involved with my boss from England, and lost my virginity to him. Every night after work he brought me into his penthouse at the top of the hotel and ravished me hours and hours. I had often cried as he penetrated me, as the memory of that Asian boy I used to know in high school resurfaced in my mind. He took me out to the deck with his massive hairy arms around my thin waist and I can see all the Asian staff gawk and stare in shame and humiliation–yet another young, beautiful, smart Asian girl conquered and subjugated by the bulky, superior white western men. The young Chinese men–all handsome and good looking–looked down in shame. They knew that they were no match to a white man like the boss who took my virginity. They were poor, they did not go to colleges in America, and they were Chinese. I was educated in America, in a prestigious college, and I make more than 10 times what they make, and my boss makes 100 times what I make. Even if they liked me, they would not dare to approach me, because they would be intimidated by my education, my salary, and my status as an American citizen.

But in front of my boss, I was nothing but another worthless Asian whore. He would wave his big western cock in my face and smirk and tell me how small and pathetic I was. I felt so humiliated and ashamed of myself. I felt so inferior in front of him, which made me all the more sexually aroused, and I had the most intense orgasms as he fucked me.

Then one day, as I was checking my email, I saw a message from that Asian boy I used to know in high school. He wrote that for the last 10 years of his life he has been thinking of me. He wrote of how miserable he has been. I cried. I cried. I cried. Yet there was nothing that I could do for him anymore.

I had lost my virginity to my boss, and I am now a white man’s little asian whore.

I blocked him and never heard from him ever since, but deep inside my heart, whenever my white boss fucked me hard, spanked me, whipped me, or used a dog collar to lead me crawling around the room, I remembered him and tears rolled down my cheeks.

PART 2

I lied when I said that I never heard from him again. I wished it was the case. He used a different account and contacted me again, and this is what he wrote: “Are you really going to let me live in this misery for the rest of my life? Give me a release, please. It’s been 10 years. At least let me know if you are married so I can know that you are happy and that you have moved on. All those years, I have been living in misery. I wished I can forget about you, but it’s been impossible. I tried so hard to forget about you, I tried so hard. I was so depressed that I tried to commit suicide.”

I still remember the morning when I read this message. I had gotten out of bed, tearing my naked body away from the hairy arms of my white boss. It was my daily routine to check emails before getting to work. All of a sudden, when I saw this message, my face turned pale and my whole body started to shake. Without even realizing it, tears started to flow out of my eyes like rivers. I immediately rushed to the bathroom to clean myself. I was completely naked and my boss was laying in our bed, his hairy Caucasian belly and his massive, hairy white legs and feet were completely exposed. I felt so ashamed. I almost felt like as if he could see us and I didn’t want to imagine the misery he must have been living through. I sobbed uncontrollably and tried my best to cover my mouth to not make a sound. I was scared that my current boyfriend might see me in this state. I did not know what I would tell him. I did not know how I would be able to explain, why all of a sudden his precious little Asian jade is all crying for no reason.

Deep inside, yet at the same time, I felt a tinge of happiness. He loved me for all those years. He really did. I smiled to myself. Then the realization that I will never be able to see him again made me cry again. I was crying and laughing to my self in the bathroom.

I don’t know if I am making any sense now because as I remember what happened, it feels as if no amount of words can heal the emotional wound that has been my heart. It feels as if no matter how much I write, how matter how hard I try, I can’t forget about this feeling.

I did not block him this time. In stead I changed my name. I changed my last name to just one letter. I changed my first name to my generic English name. I deleted the name of the high school that I went to.

I can’t bare to hurt him again. But I just can’t ever be able to talk to him again. I hope he can forget about me. I hope he can find another girl whom he loves more than me.

Because his once chaste, virginial jade is now no longer what he remembered. This once prudish, innocent Asian girl who refused to even let him touch her, who once only knew love in the vaguest sense of the word, is now nothing but a dirty little chink whore for a white man. She is just another cheap asian whore who will do anything to climb the corporate ladder. Only the memory of me will be able to live in his mind from now on.

PART 3

I suppose the story does have a happy ending. I tried so hard to hide the message that he sent me from my boyfriend, but I looked at it everyday and my boyfriend suspected that something was wrong. He saw me staring over the laptop over and over and crying, and he grabbed my laptop over and saw what I was reading. He said that, first of all, he couldn’t believe that I would still be having feeling for a loser like that asian boy, and that I would be very severely punished, more severely than ever before. He had considered what he had done to me before to be merely part of a game in the bedroom, but now he was angry, and jealous of the fact that my heart was not 100% devoted to him, and he wanted me to be taught a lesson that would make me remember for the rest of my life. Second, this was considered stalking–what he was doing, that is, sending me a message even after being blocked, and trying to elicit pity from me by allegedly threatening me with suicide, so my boyfriend decided to report the incident to the police, and have him either arrested or put out a restraining order so that he would never be allowed to contact me again.

To be honest, there was no way even after high school that we would be together again. Originally I had gone to a state university just like he was, and that was when he first tried to contact me, but he did not go through. Once again he got scared, and he quit. If he had got hold of me back then, we would still be able to be together. But after the second semester I transferred to NYU a top-tier college that’s almost the equivalent of an Ivy League school, and at that point, there was no way that we would be together again.

The whole reason that I liked him in the first place was because he was the smartest student in our high school. He didn’t just have the highest GPA, he was also very handsome and good-looking, but this all changed after the April of our senior year. He did not get into any Ivy League School and he did not become the valedictorian. Meanwhile a lot of our classmates who were more mediocre than he was had gotten in. From what I heard, he was rejected by many of the Ivy League Schools that he applied to and was wait-listed at a bunch of other elite schools and they would all eventually reject him. He lashed out at his classmates, and became very unstable emotionally. No one wanted to talk to him anymore.

In Asian culture a woman must be inferior to man. In Asian culture, a woman almost always seeks out a man that is stronger than her, taller than her, makes more money than her, and has a higher status than herself. Sure there are perverted women who do not adhere to this rule; what they are doing is perverting the natural order between men and women. And in our circle, in the circle of the good Asian students, college is one way to measure that relationship. Those colleges are ranked, and it’s very important to us who got into the highest ranked school. Because I had gotten into NYU and he was only languishing in an elite state college, that meant I was at a superior standing in relation to him, and there was no way he would be able to deal with it anymore.

When he added me on facebook, that was another semester after our first year of college, I did not add him, and he thought he had found the wrong person. Because he didn’t know I was at NYU and I did not have a profile picture. That was when I changed my name. I knew we would never be able to be together, ever again. Even if I wanted to be with him, even if I still loved him, which I didn’t feel anymore at that point, the fact that I had gone to NYU meant that he was now inferior to me and he would not be able to balance his emotion. No, not him, that poor little freak who was always so emotionally unstable and who would never be able to succeed in life. Looking back, I suppose I had shown love to the wrong person. He wasn’t the smartest person in our high school after all. If I had known who got into Harvard, I would have dated him, but at the time everybody thought he was the one who was going to get into Harvard.

My boyfriend, my boss, the man from England who went to Cambridge and worked as a trader for Wall St. and now is the Chief Executive Officer of the corporation that I worked, wanted me to be hurt. He tried whipping me with his belt, but he had realized, I would get scarred too easily. My skin is too thin and I would bleed too quickly. So he stopped whipping me. He wanted to humiliate me. He made me strip naked and kneel inside his apartment for an entire day. He handcuffed my wrists and my ankles behind my back so I couldn’t move. At evening he brought back a cage into our apartment and told me to sleep inside the cage. I hadn’t eaten anything for an entire day and my head was dizzy.

In my fainted mind I once again reminisced to the days of innocence, when we were all just about to grow into adulthood. That was the last period of my life that had so many intense meaning, before the onset of a hopeless, meaningless humdrum had taken over my life. The images of him flashed before my eyes, and tears rolled down my cheeks once again. I did not think I loved him anymore. Yet the memory of him brought back so much pain. And whenever I was suffering, whenever my boss punished me and tortured me, I remembered him. It was the pain that brought back the memory of him. That pain was purely emotional and it was a thousand times worse than any physical pain. I guess deep in the deepest chamber of my heart, I still ached for him.

After spending a night inside cage, the next morning, a group of white expats showed up in our apartment. Some of them were old, some young, some tall, some short, all in all there were 15 of them. Then my boss stepped over and said that I would be gangbanged by all of them.

Submission oozes out of an Asian woman like no other women in the world, my boss had always said, and he loved me precisely because of my submissive nature, knowing that I would never dare to disobey.

They took turns going in and out of my vagina, my anus and my mouth and I felt cum being scooped out of my vagina, and then another dick was inside me. I had never felt so disgusting as at that point in my life. I felt like a public urinal.

Afterward I stayed in the shower for all 6 hours, and no matter how much I scrub, how many times I rinse myself, I could not get the feeling out of me. I had been soiled from the inside out. I did not just need a shower to cleanse my body, I also needed a shower to cleanse my soul, but what soap do I use to cleanse my soul?

This was the punishment that he had given me, and afterward, he said, since I had been sullied by so many men, I was no longer his girlfriend. He would allow me to continue to serve the corporation in my current role, but he would no longer allow me into his apartment. In fact, he said, he would give me to one of his subordinates a very old white man who was bald, and weighed over 300 pounds. Our relationship ended. Just like that, I was taken out like trash, and, the next day, another Asian girl took over my spot.

At least I kept my job.

Yesterday I dreamed of my first love again.

PART4

In my dreams I still dreamed of that asian boy. I dreamed that he became a mutli-billionaire. I dreamed that, twenty years later, he came back again. This time, he was no longer the derelict, hopeless young man that he once was, and probably still is now; this time, he came back. He came back with all the power in the world. He came back on top of the world and everyone else is beneath him. He became the most successful man in the world. And he came back. He came back. He came back to see me again. And I would never be able to forgive myself. I would kneel before him, supplicating before his feet, and I would wipe my own tears with my hair as my tears drip onto his boots. And of course he would no longer love me. At least he would still want to see me, to see how miserable, how broken I have become. And he would smile. I dream. I dream that he has overcome all odds to succeed.

It’s easier for a woman like me to get the kind of jobs that I do, because I pose no threat to the men in power. I am nothing but a pawn to them. But he is different. He is a menace to them, so that is why they must do everything to destroy him. So that’s why he must suffer so much. But in my dreams of dreams–oh god I wish he would succeed. I wish he would clear all obstacles and become the most powerful man in the world. Is it too much to ask for? Is it going to happen? How much I wish! How much I wish.

But at least I can still dream. I dream. I dream.

He was the smartest boy in our class. He was. He really was. Even the ones who got in Harvard and MIT knew he was a genius. Oh, please, please overcome! Because I still believe in you. I believe you can do it. I can never tell you now. No, I can’t. But I know you will succeed. Please god let this happen. I will give my life to see the day when he comes back as the most successful man in the world. I pray.

Meditations on the Power of White Cock 7

I fumbled with my phone as I tried to open the camera. He was pounding me hard and it was difficult to get a grip on my phone.

It was a dream come true. To be fucked by a WHITE MAN. Not many asian girls get to achieve this feat; the number of white men into asian girls is incredibly small and the percentage of those white men who were a 10 were minimal but I landed the jackpot. Granted, he was quite drunk and I practically offered myself to him as a free fuck—and I feel ashamed of being yet another easy girl for white men, but hey, what’s an asian girl got to do? I’ll never get the chance to be fucked by a true alpha muscular white god.

I started taking videos. I needed to document this once in a lifetime event. To show my asian friends and make them jealous. Some of them haven’t been fucked by a white guy in months and they’ve grown bitter and cynical, thinking they would never land a white guy anymore. Well bitches, I’ve hooked up with this amazing hunk and he used me good. Funny how asians get catty with each other, but it’s a highly competitive environment when there’s so many asian slaves and so few white doms willing to fuck us.

I know deep in my heart that this white man wouldn’t fuck me again. It’s always the same with all the good white doms, they use you once and throw you away. But I have this video now and I would finger myself to this moment for the years to come. To remind myself of the greatest moment of my life. The moment I achieved the asian girl’s dream and to be fucked by the epitome of power and superiority.

Meditations on the Power of White Cock 6

One type of men that asian girls always lust for are white, older, hairy, muscular men. It is the complete contrast to what an asian “man” is and fully explains why so many asian girls refuse to date asian … an asian has ugly asian features, accentuated by feminine traits that make them look young. They are smooth and hairless and have no musculature at all. I guess that’s why so many white man loves to fuck asians so much. It’s everything they’re not and everything they could never be, and the asian girls crave what they do not have.

These asian girls crave for attention from their white “daddies” because they know they have disgraced their traditional asian families by being a whore for white men and their real fathers will never love them. Hell, their asian fathers might even have disowned them and kicked them out.

So those poor asian girls seek out other daddies. The big white ones that will make them feel safe once they are wrapped around in their big muscular arms. But most of all, they look for the ones that will not just fuck them hard but also make them hurt, stick them inside tiny dog cages, whip them with their belts, strip them naked and tie them up and exhibit their asian flesh for all to see. Because, in some twisted oriental way, those asian girls want to be punished and abused. To be treated like dirt. As if it’s their own way of atoning for bringing shame to their family. And once the chink whore has been completely used and they feel no more shame, then the chink can finally be a good whore to white men and forget about ever going back to their families again.