Destiny of every blessed asian woman
It is the destiny of every blessed asian woman that she should, eventually, be owned by a strong white man, and I was no exception. Though initially I had tried to fight, to break the stereotype that all asian women are by nature submissive and masochistic—and I had acted out and I had been filled with anger—in the end I failed; I was defeated; in the end I submitted before my white gods, as it is in my nature as an asian woman, to be dominated and subjugated. It is my genetic destiny. It is my biological truth, and in vain I struggle against the noontide.
All my life I have never experienced what it meant to be loved, and Gordon was the one who gave me that sweet taste of love, even when it hurt I knew he truly loved me. Ever since I was a little girl I was forced to prepare for entrance to an American college; all my mother ever wished was for me to go to America, go to an American college and find an American husband, thereby gaining a foothold into the American society: to receive a western education, to marry a white man, to live the American life style, and to give birth to white babies—that, to my mother, was the ultimate goal of all my disciplined upbringing, all my grueling teenage years, all my cloistered life up to then as a traditional Chinese female. My mother had never given me any kind of love, any type of affection, and neither did my stepfather who is a white expatriate living in China. Gordon, whom I now call my master, my lord, my god, was the first one who truly loved me.
When I was in high school, whenever I felt too tired to study, my mother would recount those stories about Cultural Revolution to encourage me. My mother was a high school English teacher when Cultural Revolution started. During that period teachers were denounced and students were allowed to beat teachers. English teachers had the worst. What happened to my mother was not untypical. Students in her class would strip her naked and beat her right there in front of all students both males and females, other teachers, and even school principals who could only sheepishly look on, unable to do anything. The students were no more than 15 or 16 years old; they took turns beating my mother with belts, tree branches, and stuck nails into her flesh. “If you don’t study, I will stick nails under your fingernails just like how they did it to me.” Those things happened in the wintry city of Harbin in northern China. One of my mother’s students had brought in nails and a small hammer that day. As usual, when the English class started, my mother came into the classroom and was completely stripped out of all her clothes. She was in her early 30s and she had to stand naked before a bunch of teenagers. They pushed her to the wooden podium so she was standing right next to it and her breasts were right above its wooden slab surface. One student standing on the podium crushed her breasts with his feet. He rested both of his feet on her breasts and his heels were resting on the wooden surface so my mother’s breasts were sandwiched between his soles and the wooden slab. Then another student using a hammer put nails into her tits as he slowly drove the nails through her tits and stowed them into the slab.. Then another student stretched out her pussy lips from underneath and nailed her vaginal lips to it as well. The podium was about 1 meter high and her tits were nailed to the top of the podium and her pussy lips were nailed to the side. Her knees was half bent and she wrapped her legs over it like she was trying to hug it. “What you are suffering now is nothing compared what I went through during the Cultural Revolution. Do you know what your problem is? You’re too pampered. I need to toughen you up!” The students wanted to drive nail through her fingernails as well but the human fingernails are very thick and hard, “So instead they inserted those iron nails of over 5 centimeters in length under my fingernails.” All of her ten fingers had had rusty iron nails pierced through them and there were scars on them to this very day, a daily reminder of her torment. They kept her nailed in this manner for entire days and was continually whipping her naked back and ass with leather belts. After she was tortured this way everyday for nearly three years at the high school she worked, she was sent to a prison in a rural village where for the next three years she was repeatedly gang raped by all the male prisoners. The Chinese guards at the prison were extremely vicious. They intentionally locked my mother into men’s prison cells and they actively goaded the male prisoners to gang rape my mother while they stood outside and watched. There were about 60 different cells with over 500 male prisoner and she was one of the ten females prisoners in that prison. “Each night I was locked into a different prison cell and all the cell mates would gang up on me, beat me, rape me from evening until the next morning.” After all the men in the prison had had their turn once, the guards rotated her back to the first prison cell and would restart the whole process. And this situation lasted for three years. “And I never complained. I had endured all of it for you, because you are my hope for a better future. So every time you refuse to play the violin, you are gang raping me all over again. If it were not for you, I would have committed suicide a long time ago, you ungrateful daughter!”
My mother told me the same thing happened during the Vietnam War. Chinese women demanded to be treated equal just like they were in America, “So that dog Mao Zedong sent all the Chinese women to the front line of the Vietnam war, telling them that since they were equal to men, then they need to fight like men.”
What eventually happened during the Vietnam War was that all the Chinese women who were sent to the front line were captured by Vietnamese soldiers, and they were raped, tortured, mutilated, and killed. There was one account of a Chinese female soldier who was captured by the Vietnamese soldiers. They tied her to a tree, whipped her with belts until she was a bloody mess, and then ordered all the males in the village to take turns raping her. After a week of torturing her to the brink of death she was sold to a farmer who used her as an ox to plough the rice field. Everyday the farmer strapped a wooden yoke over her neck and she crawled through the rice field completely naked from dawn to night. The farmer followed behind her and whipped her with a whip and treated her like she was his cattle. After a few weeks they discovered she was pregnant and that was when they cut off all her limbs and sent her back to China. About a few hundreds of Chinese female soldiers were sold to local farmers as sex slaves, and some of them were mutilated to death, some had their limbs cut off. “—But this girl, well, she was lucky because they only chopped off her hands and feet so she was able to survive. Another Chinese female soldier had all her limbs completely chopped off, from shoulder blade and up to the thighs. Why are you cringing? I’m trying to educate you!” The Chinese men welcomed her back and called her a war hero and not only that, but they called her a precursor of Chinese feminism. “The Chinese men think treating women as cattle meant feminism and you can imagine how depraved Chinese people really are. That is why I worked so hard all those years to support you to go to America. Leave this country of hell, and don’t look back.” Like many Chinese, my mother absolutely hated the Chinese. “Sometimes I wish all the Chinese men were killed so that we would all be saved by American men.” It was a very common sentiment among Chinese women and, to be honest, no one can blame my mother or any Chinese woman, because of what we went through.
After I was enrolled at University of Pennsylvania, my mother started to constantly remind me about looking for a white American boyfriend. If I had graduated without finding a white American man that was going to marry me, then I would have to go back to China, where, my mother promised, I would have been tortured to death by her. My mother had expressly forbade me to ever go back to China again, unless I had brought a white boyfriend back with me.
”Just open your legs for those big American bad boys and one of them will be willing to marry you. Stop being a fucking pussy like your father.”
“I will commit suicide if you do not find an American man to marry. I spent one million dollars in total to send you to an ivy league college in America. That is the entire 200 years worth of savings of all your ancestors. You think you got to college now and you can live like a goddess and treat your mother like a cheap Chinese whore? I will haunt you even after I die!”
Coming to college in America was only a ruse for me; my real mission was to find an American husband so I could live in America for the rest of my life. That was the real reason why I came to America. I once even considered dating a 50 year old staff worker at the local community center. We were organizing for the Chinese new year celebration and he was helping us out. He was overweight, balding, bespectacled, not very attractive at all, and he told me he went to college in the 1960s, had been divorced twice. If I could not find a decent, above-average American man to marry, marrying him would have been my last option. I actually kind of liked him. Older men were always more fatherly.
First time meeting Gordon
I was a junior when I first met Gordon. Immediately I knew Gordon was different and I was especially attracted to the way he treated me. I was studying at the library one day and a tall, handsome white man approached me and asked me if I was in his asian philosophy class. I said I was not taking any philosophy class, but he just sat down and said that he might have been mistaken but I looked exactly like another asian girl from his class. He told me he was studying asian philosophy and he had been learning about Confucius and about Chinese foot binding.
“I gotta tell you those Chinese men are sick and I can never understand why anyone would want to torture women’s feet like that.”
I just loved the way he talked to me.
He asked me which part of China I came from and then he said “You know, my two older brothers are both in the army and they told me all the Chinese whores in Afghanistan love being dominated. Did you know there are lot of Chinese whores in Afghanistan? Well, there are a lot and they all love big American soldiers and they all want to marry my big brothers. They are cheap too, only like 20 dollars and you can fuck them anyway you like. Not even condoms. My brothers brought two back home and they are planning on bringing more.”
I was speechless. I didn’t know back then that Gordon’s father was an army contractor though thinking about it now I kind of had gotten hints, like how all his brothers were in the army and how their entire family seemed to act above the law.
“It might sound bad, but trust me, those Chinese whores are so happy now. They all told us they would never go back to China and they really just want to be whores to big white cocks. I’m serious, that’s what they said. They say they love being white men’s sex slaves. I am so not kidding. So, you want to be my Chinese whore, don’t you?”
I pretended to be offended and not willing to talk. But in my mind I was really attracted to him. Something about his dismissive attitude drew me toward him. I know you might think that he was a jerk, and an asshole, and a racist, a sexist, a total douche bag, but in secret I really loved the way he talked to me. I had never met anyone who talked to me like Gordon had; he had been so brutally honest and I was very turned on by the way he denigrated me. I knew deep down everything he said was true, and I loved it. I knew someday I would bring him to my mother and she would love him too. I loved him and she would love him too. But I still wanted to pretend that I was offended. I didn’t want him to know the truth that Chinese women hated their own race more than white men hated us. For I had often been disgusted with Chinese men just as much as Gordon had been, and finally I met someone who shared my view about those nasty chinks. When I walked down the campus, and I saw those nasty chinks coming, I would avert my eyes and not try to look at them, because I felt disgusted at the fact that I was related to those disgusting human beings, if you can call those chinks humans, and Gordon felt the same way I did.
“You look so demure, so pretty, so submissive, and it is a shame that no one has the good sense to pursue you. No asian men deserve such a delicate flower like you. Only a white man, a strong, kind, and powerful man like me. I will protect you and I will cherish you like no asian man ever could. My father remarried a Japanese woman and it was the best thing that ever happened to my family. I love Japanese woman and if we get married, I am going to dress you up like a Japanese woman and make you my geisha.”
As he said that he put his massive muscular arms around me and embraced me. I was never forced or raped by Gordon. I submitted to Gordon and his father through my free will. During any time I could have fought back. I could have screamed and called the police, but the fact of the matter was, I wanted it this way. I knew what my mission in college was, that is, to find a white man to marry, and I felt Gordon would have known my intentions without me ever uttering it. I felt he understood asian women because his brothers must have told him, and his father would have told him. It was alright. In addition to that, I felt a strong erotic feeling inside his embrace, like an intense gripping of my whole being inside his big hands. Something about him was always more intense and he made me really nervous whenever he approached me. The way he talked down to me just felt right. I guess even then my masochistic nature was already on full display, no matter how hard I had tried to hide it.
Sex with Gordon
Gordon is huge, nearly 6 feet 2, and his penis is proportional to his height, on the other hand, I am very petite. When we just started dating, Gordon and I had sex something like three, four times a day. When we just started to have sex it was pure torture for me. The sharp pain of being split in half shot through my vaginal nerves. And Gordon had so much stamina. I was exhausted beyond words. Except for when I was going to the lectures, every other time I came back to the dorm he was waiting for me on my bed. And there was another thing that Gordon did to me. Whenever he noticed I was nearing an orgasm, he would pinch my nipples really hard and say “Fuck you nasty chink!”
I knew what he was doing to me was wrong, at least according to the societal norms that would be considered wrong. Worse, he might had been abusing me, and I was a victim. Yet the very fact that I was a victim had relieved me of any moral responsibility. I could have been repulsed by what he was doing, but the truth was—I was very turned on by all of it. I enjoyed the way he cursed at me during sex.
Gordon would even on occasions intentionally humiliate me by exposing my naked body to other people around me. One time, while Gordon and I were having sex in my dorm, and I was lying completely naked on my bed, someone banged on the window pane and yelled: “Stop throwing used condoms out of the window.” My dorm room was on the first floor and we had the blinds closed. We were both surprised and Gordon wanted to open the blinds just a little bit to see who was there. But he intentionally pretended to trip on the bed frame and pulled on the strands so the blinds folded all the way to the top. I immediately reached for a towel to cover myself, but Gordon violently jerked the towel away from my body so whoever was outside could see me laying there completely naked.
He gingerly wrapped that white towel around his own waist while leaving me completely exposed. “Sorry, my Chinese girlfriend is a total slut and she can’t get enough of my dick.”
“Well, I don’t care what you do, just stop throwing used condoms out of the window.”
“Yes sir. I will make sure she swallow my cum from now on.”
My stomach convulsed so violently when I heard their conversation as I just lay there naked, completely shocked, and yet unable to utter any word. I was treated like a piece of meat, and I pretended that I was angry, but in reality I loved everything he was doing to me.
Even when my roommate came in on us, Gordon wouldn’t stop and just continued to pump into me. My roommate was a Chinese girl and she was rather close minded—or so I thought, until what happened later on—she really didn’t like me for bringing a boyfriend into our dorm. And Gordon intentionally flaunted his sexual prowess right in front of her. Whenever Julie Xu came in, he would yell: “Take my big white cock, you Chinese slut!”
My bed was behind my study desk so at least Julie did not see me. But we didn’t always have sex on the bed. A few times he put me on the study desk. Once Julie came in suddenly, without knocking, she flung the door wide open like she was angry at someone—anyone who passed by the hallway could see me lying naked on the study desk—and I was moaning quite loud when I saw Julie I had to cover my mouth with my hands. I tried to tell Gordon to stop, waving my right hand to him while my left hand was still covering my own mouth. He simply ignored me and continued to pound me really hard all the while cursing “Fucking nasty chink! Take this. … It’s made in America!”
I was brought to waves of orgasm right in front of Julie and the door was wide open. Julie didn’t make any eye contact; rather she quickly grabbed her stuffs, slammed the door shut; Gordon even waved at her as she went out. He had that goofy smile on his face as he waved at Julie—he seemed openly proud—whereas I was humiliated beyond death. After he shot his load and walked out to clean up, I laid there motionless on my own study desk, no longer able to hold back the tears that had swelled in my eyes as all the humiliating memory resurfaced which forced those tears out of my eyes. I did not understand why I cried. I suppose I was angry and sad, but deep down I enjoyed the way Gordon was treating me.
In addition to those, Gordon had on other numerous occasions put me into very embarrassing positions, like groping me in public, and touching my private part while on the school bus.
After about a week of constant sex, Julie had had enough and reported me and Gordon to the RA, saying our excessive sexual behavior was affecting her daily life and Gordon was forbidden to ever enter my residence hall again, and from then on I spent every night at Gordon’s room instead.
Gordon and Ryan
The situation had become worse from then on. Every morning I grabbed my backpack to go to lectures and by lunch time I met with Gordon at the dining hall, then we proceeded to his dorm and I stayed there until the next morning. Whereas before, because my roommate was a girl, though it did not put a stop to his behavior, her presence deterred him in some slightest way, now his wild desire was on full exhibition mode. Every day I was naked inside his dorm and I had become his full time sex slave. Though some part of me still felt it was wrong of me to be like this, that I was supposed to be a chaste Chinese woman, another part, a larger part, of my brain told me that I should have been proud, because Gordon simply couldn’t get enough of me. I had sexually aroused Gordon in such a way that no white woman had ever aroused him. To Gordon, I was extremely feminine and sexual like no white woman ever was, and I made him a sex crazed monster.
As instructed by Gordon, I was, upon arrival at his dorm, to strip all my clothes and crawl into his room. I must leave all my personal items, such as clothes, shoes, backpack, outside in the hallway. There were six dorm rooms in our hallway and, as the semester progressed, everyone became aware of my relationship with Gordon. On several occasions I was seen standing outside Gordon’s room completely naked, if the fact that all my clothes were all heaped next to the door didn’t already indicate that. Even when I went to the bathroom or went downstairs to do the laundry, Gordon did not allow me to wear any clothes, but only to wrap a big white towel around my body, without any slippers. I had to go downstairs bare feet, and it was really cold.
There were two white girls in our hallway who were absolutely disgusted with me. Behind my back they called me all kinds of nasty names, like asian whore, or worse. They hated me more than they were disgusted with me. At the time I didn’t understand why they would dislike me so much. They never spoke to me when they saw me in the hallway and they were the only two persons who were unfriendly to me. On the other hand, everyone else was very friendly.
My long stay in Gordon’s room inevitably raised some issues with Gordon’s roommate, Ryan, who did not like to see me naked inside their room all the time. One time he made it very clear and Gordon responded in a way that I would not have expected.
“Gordon, do you mind putting some clothes on that asian slut of yours?”
“Is it bothering you?”
“Yes, quite a bit. I am really distracted and I got homework to do. I’m stressed out dude.”
“I’m sorry dude. Maybe she can help you relieve some of that stress.”
“Are you serious?”
“Slut, crawl over to Ryan and ask him if you can suck his dick.”
“What the fuck! She really does it?”
“She does whatever I tell her. She digs it. Go ahead. Unzip and let her do her thing. She loves it. Don’t worry about it.”
“Is it OK? Come on, girl, you can tell me if it’s not OK?”
“See, what did I told you? She loves it. She’s a total fucked up asian whore.”
Looking back now, I perhaps should have put a stop to the way Gordon treated me, and I certainly could have put a stop to everything at anytime because I was doing everything out of my free will—no one had forced me to do it—and certainly I could have broken up with him even then, but I simply loved being dominated by Gordon. His voice is deep and virile, commanding and resonant, like the voice of someone who is used to being in control, like a god’s voice. I didn’t have a choice but to obey. From that day on I had become Ryan and Gordon’s slut, ready to be fucked on command at any time, by either one of them. In front of Gordon and Ryan, I was no longer a chaste traditional Chinese girl that I had been all my life. I had already lost any sense of shame in front of those two muscular American boys.
I always thought a woman was supposed to be holding onto some moral standard as befitting a mother. I felt what I had been doing was wrong, but the fact that Gordon made me do it seemed in my mind to justify my submissive behavior. Everything was okay because I had been forced to do it, because Gordon had promised me of marriage and I had been doing it only for the prospect of getting married, and more importantly I was obeying my mother.
Though the most painful thing Gordon asked me to do was not to have sex with him four times a day, to be exposed in front of my roommate Julie, or to be shared with Ryan, no, the most painful thing for me was anal sex. I had never even known before I came to America that my anus can also be used for sexual pleasure, but apparently it can be, and Gordon absolutely loved it. I was willing to try it, because maybe that meant he would leave my vagina alone for a while. But the first time I tried it I just realized how a big mistake that had been. It was even more painful than vaginal sex. I was screaming and the RA even knocked on our door to ask if everything was okay. Later on Gordon would put a towel in my mouth to muffle my screams.
So often I still feel like I am in a dream. I have simply never gotten out of the euphoric feeling that I am living my dream now, living in America, the Chinese women’s paradise. I woke up and went to heaven. That’s what it feels like for me to be living in America, living this American lifestyle, sleeping next to an American husband, meeting his American parents, in a mansion. Nothing bad can ever ruin this euphoric feeling of mine, not even the threats of murder, gang rape, and mutilation can ruin it.
Gordon’s stepmother Michiko
When for the first time I met Gordon’s parents I was completely stunned at all that I saw around me, the big house, the swimming pool, the personal basketball court and I can only marvel at this American lifestyle, that I had only seen in movies. And their parents were not even very wealthy by American standards. Whereas in China their lives would be comparable to those of emperors. That was my first Christmas spent in an American family and I would never be able to forget.
Especially Gordon’s step mother, Michiko, whom Gordon was very fond of and talked to me about on several occasions, a very beautiful Japanese woman who was only a few years older than me at the time, like 27 or 28 at most. Large round almond eyes and lips red like cherry. Michiko spent most of her time on her knees. The first time we were there Michiko was kneeling by the staircase and when she saw us she crawled over to the front door and kissed Gordon on his foot, her lips sucking on the soiled surface of his sneaker. She wore a very thin pink silk dress that barely covered her body, and she walked around barefoot and her legs were always completely bare even though it was December. She never wore any extra clothing even outside the house, not even when it snowed. The silk dress was nearly transparent and I saw the silhouette of her breasts quite clearly from underneath the dress. It had no shoulder straps and when she turned around her back was completely bare. Two thin strands crossed her back and a gossamer loincloth covered her hip like a reverse fundoshi. It was the most revealing dress a woman could wear in front of her step son other than wearing nothing at all and it was certainly inappropriate to be dressed like that in front of guests.
Later that evening I saw something that changed me for the rest of my life. I saw Gordon’s father whipping Michiko in front of everyone at the table. We were having dinner with Gordon’s dad, Mr. Becker, and several family members, a few close friends and business associates and Mr. Becker was telling everyone how great his new Japanese wife was. He told everyone his new Japanese wife was very submissive and loved being whipped on her bare ass. I felt really embarrassed but he didn’t stop there. “Michiko is my sex slave, my asian sow, and does whatever I tell her to.”
All the while Michiko, his Japanese wife, was just standing right next to him smiling. She must have been embarrassed, but she was just standing there with her hands behind her back, smiling gracefully. One guy, who was Mr. Becker’s business associate, with a mouthful of food, yelled across the table: “You are a lying bastard. Show us the marks.”
Mr. Becker turned around toward Michiko and told her to lift up her pink dress. But in stead of just lifting the dress, as he directed, Michiko started to untie the strands behind her back.
“I said lift up the dress, not untie the goddamn thing.”
Mr. Becker stood up, snapped the hem of Michiko’s pink silk dress between two fingers and pulled it all the way over her head, revealing that she wore absolute nothing underneath, not even a bra or a panties. The gossamer loin cloth behind her hip was attached to the pink dress in the front.
“Speak English much? Goddamn bitch you learn?”
Michiko gave a very slight moan, in a very feminine voice, like the moan of a woman during sex, a whispering moan like a cat in heat, and she did nothing to protest Mr. Becker’s violent act, and merely passively accepted to be violated, to have her entire body bared in front of guests and strangers. She must have been embarrassed, but her face was covered by the dress, so I couldn’t tell what expression she must have had underneath. Her arms were bent upward like she was giving a shrug. “I’m sorry sir. I obey. I’m so so sorry.” As she said it she was turning around to show us her back and there was indeed fresh red marks cross her butt cheeks. Her hip was wide and shaped like a pear and tapered quickly to her narrow waist. She was so beautiful and the vicious cruel whip marks only intensified her beauty. It was the most strange moment in my life, that I witnessed something that gushed out of the subterranean abyss of human sexuality, that I was at once shackled and freed, freed from my traditional, close minded, Confucian oppression of women and shackled by a manifestly new yearning—to become like Michiko.
Right before Michiko turned around I caught a glimpse of the most frightening thing I had ever seen in my life; right before she turned around, above her bald pussy, below her belly button, there was a branding mark in very big red letters that read ”ASIAN SOW”. The skin around those words were burned off and the letters were formed by the exposed red flesh underneath her skin like the red meat I see at the meat section of the shopping mall.
Yet Michiko seemed so graceful and calm, even in her bruised body there was something inexplicably beautiful—the terror and awe of someone so beautiful and delicate and yet so tormented and abused. Is this the destiny of every beautiful woman, all along, to be destroyed and utterly ruined by the one she loves? “Put your hands on your head. I’m going to whip your jap ass right now.” Mr. Becker took off his belt and whipped her bare buttocks right in front of everyone, all the while he was saying: “Yeah? You like that? Don’t worry guys, she loves it. She can’t get enough of this belt. This is for not obeying my command you asian sow. Obey your American master. Do you understand? Answer me!”
Michiko’s head was covered by the dress and we heard her whimpering through the cloth in high pitched catlike whisper.
“I didn’t hear it! What? Speak English, stupid cunt!”
No matter how hard Mr. Becker whipped her, she didn’t even flinch nor did she try to move away. The mournful feminine cries filled the entire room with its intensity modulated by the cackling of the belt. After about 10 to 15 hits, and everyone’s heart was at his or her throat at the unbelievable sight, Mr Becker tore the pink dress off his wife’s head, and revealed Michiko’s face for the first time after the long and yet in actual time so short ordeal. I felt it was the longest minute of my life just watching it. Her face was blood red like she was drunk and tears moistened her reddened cheeks.
“Go kneel by the corner and don’t speak unless spoken to.”
She walked to the corner of the dining room, completely nude, her hands still above her head and she knelt down facing the wall. Everyone was completely silent for quite a while. They were embarrassed, I would think; but soon after all of Mr Becker’s male buddies were all very roused up and chattered hysterically like school boys, padding Mr. Becker on the shoulders, and then shooting strange glances at me and Gordon. I could barely swallow the food in my mouth from all the anxiety.
That night, while Gordon and I was sleeping in our bedroom, once again we heard the sound of whipping and Michiko’s whimpering. She was crying and begging for mercy but the whips kept on coming.
“Stop, please stop. Please sir! I take no more.” Michiko had a very thick Japanese accent, and the cackling of the whip was followed by her hysterical feminine scream and followed by loud laughter from the males.
“Fucking weak cunt. We need to toughen you up.”
There were other men’s laughter also, more than just the lone laughter of Mr. Becker himself. At least several men were downstairs.
I didn’t know what to think at the time. My head went blank for a while then all of a sudden I was reminded of my mother and the weird thought surfaced: “What if my mother had enjoyed all that had happened to her during the Cultural Revolution? ” It must have been the most disgusting thought I had ever had. My mother had remarried after we moved in Shanghai and my step father was a white American expat who actually looked a little like Mr. Becker, not very tall, with a big belly, and a round face full of drooping fat. Once when I came home early from school and I overheard my parents having sex in the living room and they were really loud. My step father was yelling in English “Fucking nasty whore. You worship white man, don’t you, you nasty yellow whore?”
And there were the very loud sounds of smacking coming through the door. I stood outside, froze in fear and I ran out and didn’t came back home until it was dark outside. I remember the faint voice of my mother replying “Yes” to my step dad.
At the time I still thought: “That’s impossible.”
That night I was in a complete state of shock and daze; Gordon, on the other hand, turned around to me and said: ”I am so horny right now. I used to masturbate to that sound ever since my dad married that Japanese whore. I was just a teenager back then.”
He pulled away the quilt that was covering my body, and started sliding his cock back and forth on my belly while his fingers tucked my nipples and he said to me: “How to you like to be my asian sow? My father will help me train you.”
My mouth was open but no words came out of it as he continued to play with my tits. I had to admit I was highly aroused. I wanted to say yes but my shame burned me and I was scared to admit it. I didn’t want to become known as a masochist slut to Gordon and I was still holding on to the shattered moral values of a traditional Chinese woman. When Gordon went into me, I was already highly aroused and I knew I was going to be very loud so I covered my mouth with my hands. But Gordon would have none of that, as he pulled my hands away from my mouth and twisted them behind my back and pounded me so violently the entire bed frame was rocking with us. First he fucked me in my pussy, and after about ten minutes or so, he popped out and started to go into my anus. While before I could have still kept my moaning to a minimum, I could no longer control my self after he put it in my anus. I gritted my teeth as best as I could, but the thrust was so unexpected and so violent I let out loud shirks. He even pinched my clit and twisted it like he was twisting a bottle cap. At the time I would never admit this, but that night I had the most intense orgasm thinking to myself what was happening to Michiko downstairs. That night, I was in a constant state of gut-wrenching excitement that made me want to pass out.
After the Christmas break
So after Christmas break we headed back to campus and because I had to grab something from Gordon’s dorm, in stead of going to my dorm first, Gordon and I went straight ahead to his dorm. Ryan was already there and he said he got company. So we waited outside until they were all dressed up, then we went in—that was when my eyes got big, because sitting on Ryan’s bed was none other than my roommate Julie Xu. She didn’t know Gordon and Ryan were roommates. I had always thought Julie was a very conservative, timid, almost too shy and too nerdy to have a boyfriend type of Chinese girl. On the other hand Ryan was a typical jock with a very aggressive attitude. That was the most strange chance meeting that I had in my life.
“What else has fate planned for me? “ I thought at the time.
Needless to say, Julie was extremely embarrassed and given her typical passive aggressive attitude, she had never talked to me since. She never liked to talk anyway, and she had gone from being silent to dead silent. Coming into the room with Julie inside was like coming into a coffin. The smell of death permeated the entire room. Sometimes I was afraid for one of our lives, because I had this frightening sixth sense that told me that Julie was going to commit suicide. Sometimes when I came in even though I did not see her in the room, I sensed her presence like a bad smell from a bag of rotten flesh, her body lying on her bed, behind the study desk, silent like a corpse. Why was this life so miserable?
A new beginning
After that semester I had moved off campus with Gordon, along with six of Gordon’s buddies. Ryan was coming with us as well. Julie never was Ryan’s girlfriend, so she was not coming Leaving Julie behind put away a chapter of my life. “Maybe leaving that miserable dorm room will cure me of my depression as well.” I thought at the time. Julie was the shadow of my former self, that tightly wrapped, traditional-minded, restrained, sexually repressed, studious and obedient Chinese-woman-type that I had long been bound into, not by my own volition, but by my mother, by my culture, by my country of birth, all of which I never wanted to go back to. I wanted to escape that type. I wanted to live a life of my own making, in the mode of an American lifestyle, with Gordon, an heir to a life of leisure and of ever lasting ease. Not the life of toil and servitude that a Chinese woman was born to, but a life of an American woman: happy, pampered, sexually liberated. It was a new beginning for me, and everything was bright and cheerful like a sunny noon tide. My real self. A cheerful, happy, sexually liberated, educated Chinese woman. The real me. Not that morose and taciturn Chinese woman with bound feet. That was not the real me. My life reborn in America, reborn with Gordon.
I talked to Gordon about my abdominal pain and he escorted me to see the school nurse. We simply told the doctor that we had been having a lot rough sex, without mentioning what happened at the fraternity house. And the doctor said that it was absolutely normal to experience some pain after sexual intercourse, and not only that, but I was encouraged to have sex more often because that way my vaginal tract would be used to stretching, and it would be good for my health. “As time progresses, your vagina would be stretched to fit your boyfriend’s penis.” The nurse said with a smile.
What I remembered from that night was—while on the way to a party, Gordon insisted that I have a couple of beer. I had never had any alcohol before that day and he forced me to drink 3 bottles of Heineken while we were still in the car. We also smoked weed together. After we got out of the car, I walked along with them and I felt really tiny and uncomfortable and they were telling jokes I couldn’t understand. Then one of Gordon’s friends pulled me up and carried me over his shoulder and everyone just burst out in laughter. I was wearing a blue mini skirt and I was scared my panties might be showing so I told him to put me down but he kept on saying: “What? I can’t understand you. What?”
They were laughing the entire time and carried me into a brick house where, once inside, Gordon pushed me down on the floor and held yet another bottle of beer over my face and told me to “chug it”. I had no idea what “chug it” meant at the time (while my English was good I still didn’t understand some of the slangs), so he held the bottom of the glass bottle near his crotch and shoved the tip into my mouth. When I tried to grab with my hands some guy twisted my arms behind my back and I heard laughter all round me. I heard someone yell: “She’s got the asian flush.”
There were constant laughter moving around my head like waves. My face was very red and I was sweating too. After I gobbled down the entire bottle of beer, my arms were relaxed and Gordon asked me “How do you feel?” I couldn’t breathe so I unbuttoned my blouse, then Gordon raised me up and helped me take off my blouse and he said “Wow, your breasts are so small. Are your nipples as small as your breasts?” And there was another round of boisterous laughter. I don’t suppose he was asking that question to me. There were constant waves of laughter moving through the room like sea waves. Some of the people were jumping up and down, another banging on the table and someone was even rolling on the ground. I was really scared so I told Gordon: “I don’t feel so good and I can’t breathe.” To which Gordon said I needed to cool off more and took off all my clothes, and he said, apparently to the other people in the room: “Those people want to find out if all your body parts are smaller.”
I was completely naked standing in the room full of men and my head was dizzy so I leaned in on Gordon’s massive body and pressed my face into his chest. Hands started to touch all over my body and someone took my legs up from behind me and buried his face into my crotch. I saw people around me had their pants around their ankles and I was extremely scared and after that I threw up.
I don’t remember exactly what happened next. I woke up with a splitting headache and I was throwing up all over the place, but Gordon was with me the entire time and told me I did well. I felt really happy, to be honest, and I felt my whole body was all of a sudden set free; whereas before that day I constantly felt like a prisoner locked up in a mental hospital; but I also felt sick and disgusted at my self and I wanted to throw up; I wanted to be restrained with a chain around my body so I could be punished for what I did. A murmuring voice in my head whispered to me: “You should tell Gordon to slap you in the face for being such a nasty whore! Ask him to slap you, spit on you, and kick you, because that’s what you deserve. You should be put into a cage, locked away and be sent to a whore house because you are disgusting.” That day I just lay in bed all day like I was having a high fever, and I never told Gordon how I really felt, nor about the voice in my head because I was afraid Gordon might think I was schizophrenic. I really hoped I was not crazy. Maybe that was just the normal reaction after a very stressful night. Images of what happened that night slowly came back to haunt me. One guy was sitting on my head forcing his penis into my mouth, while two guys were penetrating both my pussy and anus simultaneously, and two others guys were using my hands to jerk themselves off. And there were people who were just standing around waiting for their turns. My whole body was covered in sweat and semen. I started to realize that I was gang raped. They bent my body over the back of a chair, ordered me to reach for my ankles. I was tiptoeing and my stomach was cut in half over the back of the chair. One guy slided his penis into my pussy while another one grabbed my hair and jerked my face into his crotch, and I felt his slimy testicles on my face, all the while a bunch of naked guys were standing close by, touching my body with their penises. Then they tied me onto a long metallic table. It may have been a ping pong table. It was in the garage and I was shivering from the cold. My legs and arms were stretched out tied to the four legs of the table. In a spread eagle position. Completely naked. Resting on the metal surface, like a cadaver. Then the garage door opened and there was a dazzling bright light from the headlights of a car and there was honking and more cheering.
“Guess what Gordon got for us? An asian sex slave!”
“I thought that only existed in Japanese pornos!”
“So I heard Gordon say you like to be tied up, don’t you? You little kinky whore.”
“What else does she like?”
I had wanted to call the police but there was the problem. I was completely drunk and I had only piecemeal recollection of what happened. I really wished someone could have told me what exactly had happened because some of what had happened was not consensual. At that moment that was how I felt. Whenever I asked Gordon what exactly had happened he just mumbled and kept on changing his story. Once he even told me that I was never really gang banged, and I was hallucinating due to the weed I smoked that night. In the end I loved Gordon too much to report him to the police.
But on the other hand I could never forgive Gordon for what he did to me. I broke up with Gordon and I told him that I never wanted to see him again. And it was the most terrible mistake I ever made.
Because saying that might have not been completely honest. The truth was Gordon told me he had no interest of ever getting married. When he said that it was like a thunderbolt hitting me over the head and lightning flashed before my eyes driving me into a world of white blindness. The whole purpose of me doing everything to please him was to get married. I went crazy after he said it and ever since I felt like I was getting crazier. My mind used to be so sharp and focused but after that night everything in my head became a chaotic mess. All my thoughts were in a bundle like a ball of woolen yarn.
“I had walked to the brink of death with open eyes.”
The reason why Gordon didn’t want to marry me was because I didn’t want to become his sex slave. As a condition for marriage, I was going to become his slave wife just as Michiko was to Mr. Becker. Though initially I had been tempted by the idea, I was, deep inside, still a very traditional Chinese girl and what he asked of me was too much for me to bear. Not only was he going to brand me with the words “ASIAN SOW” like Mr. Becker had branded Michiko, but I was going to be “disciplined” by both Gordon and his father, meaning I was going to live in Mr. Becker’s house and subject to the same type of treatment Michiko had received. But I had no choice by then. I had walked to the brink of death with open eyes. I was going to brought into this world full of quirks of fate. After I moved out of Gordon’s apartment, I had to find a place to stay and the rent was so expensive so I worked as a massage therapist in a massage parlour in downtown Philadelphia and it was there that I was caught soliciting sex to a undercover cop. I always pretended to be really wealthy in front of my Chinese friends, but actually I was living in penury. Sometimes I didn’t even have enough money left to buy food at the dining hall and Gordon had to buy everything for me. It was in prison that I realized how sweet Gordon had been all along, and when I was allowed to make one phone call and I called Gordon.
In the end Gordon had paid the bond money to free me from prison and his father hired lawyers to sue to the city police for entrapment. Without Gordon and his father, I would have been detained, deported, and my American dream dashed and broken. I had already been expelled by the university and there was no other option left for me. If I had gone back to China my mother would have certainly tortured me to death in ways more unimaginable than what had happened to her during the Cultural Revolution. I am forever in Becker family’s debt and I can only repay them with my youthful body. And I have finally come to realize—through all my suffering I have come to realize: it is my destiny to become white men’s sex slave. I am a woman belonging to an inferior asian race and my only way to survive is to become white men’s slave.
So often I have, in the past, felt unhappy and I have tried to fight those sick urges and impulses. I have been told by this society that those impulses and urges of mine, those utterly natural feminine urges, were the product of mental illness. But through the last two years I have come to the conclusion that I was not crazy or sick, rather it is this society that is crazy and sick. I have come to realize that it is natural for women of inferior races to be dominated, used, and bred by men of the superior race. It is not only natural, it is even right and inevitable that conquered women belong to their conquerors. Just like African women who were bred by their white masters, just like Latin American women who were bred by their Spanish conquerors, just like Chinese women who were bred by noble Japanese soldiers, just like Han women who were bred by Mongols, so too now it is my turn to be used, bred by white American men, so that I may one day bare white children for my conquerors. Through my submission, through my slavery, at the feet of Gordon and his father, where I now prostrate, as I should have been all along, I have finally achieved happiness, a calm state of mind. I am no longer unhappy. I am no longer full of resentment. I have come to accept my being as an asian woman. I have achieved happiness through my submission to my white gods.
People have in the past often told me that everyone is equal and I should strive for equality. Now whenever I hear those people’s silly remarks I gently smile and remain quiet. I realize now how idiotic those people actually are, because in all actuality their lives are not happy at all. Those who utter those remarks, who chant slogans of equality all day long, are themselves full of indignant vitriol and puffed up rage, like angry candies in a lavender box rattling against all sides at alleged inequality, full of poisonous resentment that eats away at their inside, never content. I, on the other hand, feel perfectly content now. I do not feel any resentment nor any anger against anyone. I have come to accept my place in this world and I have to come to realize how natural it is. I love my white master and I do not complain when I am pushed beyond my limit and neither do I dislike anyone who feel repulsed by my slavish behavior, which I cannot alter because I am not nurtured to be a slave. It is in my asian genetics as an asian woman.
Though I had been unhappy, now my life in America has been full of joy. Even though Gordon and Mr. Becker torture me daily, subject me to bondage, restraints, whipping, tattooing, and all others types of torture, even though I am constantly crying—those are not the tears of sorrow, quite the contrary, those are the tears of joy, tears of fulfillment, tears of pleasure—I have attained euthymia. I now have ataraxia. I spend most of days on my knees just like Michiko and just a few days ago my master had my nipples and clit pierced.
Besides, White men’s whips are less cruel compared to asian men’s whips. So many of my Chinese girlfriends are so jealous of me because they know how happy and satisfied a life I have led as a slave owned by White men. What I am suffering is not considered suffering at all; my suffering is bliss. On the other hand, what my mother had suffered during the Cultural Revolution was pure suffering. There is a big difference between being tortured by White men and being tortured by asian men. White men are natural masters, and asian men are not. Asian men are evil, whereas White men are good, and I prefer to be tortured and enslaved by someone who is inherently good and naturally dominant to being tortured and enslaved by someone who is inherently evil and naturally submissive. Do you want to be a slave enslaved by another slave, or do you prefer to be a slave enslaved by a master? A White man’s yoke is not heavy and his collar not tight. His torture is not painful.
White man is my lord, my god, my savior (1)
White man: “I created the modern world and everything in this world. This whole world is my idea, and therewith everything in this world is my idea. I willed this world and thus it came into existence. I alone am the creator of all modern civilization and the destroyer of all other civilizations. I held a scale and weighed the world, and I created the good and evil of this world. I am the alpha and the omega. I am the nameless Being that has been in existence since eternity. I will smite thee with my left hand, and heal thee with my right hand. Submit to me and you will live, and have the riches of my world. Disobey my commands and you will be scattered among the nations.”
asian woman: “Preserve me, O my White god, for in thee I put my trust. Thou art my lord, and my shepherd. White man is my light, my salvation; whom shall I fear? White man is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
“When the wicked asian men came upon me to ravish me, and eat my flesh, they stumbled and fell because White man protected me. Though a swarm of wicked asian men encircled me, their spears pointed at me, their scimitars glistening under the moonlight, as they were about to tear me to pieces and feast upon my flesh, my heart did not fear for I called upon White man; unto Him I cried, O my rock, save me from my people, and lo behold! My lord delivered me and drew me away from the wicked and the workers of iniquity.
“Only one thing have I desired of my White man, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of my White man all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of White man, and to be the semen receptacle of White man.
“Teach me thy way, O my White god, take me up and lead me, judge me, examine me, and prove me my worth; try your whips on my bare bottom, pull on the reins attached to my collar, expose my nakedness before strangers and fondle my breasts, for I have walked in thy truth and my feet stand in even place; in the house of my White god will I give blessing onto thee.
“And unto eternity I will keep the house of my lord, and worship him and serve Him, and spread his blessings all over the world. And my tongue shall speak of White man’s praise all day long.”
White man is my lord, my god, my savior (2)
White man is my shield and my exceeding great reward. Behold, to me he hast given me his seed and I have received his semen in His asian woman’s womb, for my womb belongs to him. And I shall bear him the future of America.
Why do the asian men rage and imagine a vain thing?
Those asian men set themselves and take counsel together against White man, and against his anointed asian woman, saying: “Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away the cords of shame from us.”
White man shall laugh; White man shall have them in derision. Then shall he speak unto them in his wrath and vex them in his sore displeasure: “Yet have I set my asian woman upon my holy shaft, and I will declare the decree: that asian woman is my semen receptacle and this day I shall breed her and she shall beget the future of America, and to the future of America, I shall give thee all of Asia as thine slaves, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession. Thus saith the White lord,”
Serve White man with joy and rejoice with trembling. Kiss his feet, lest He be angry and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed is the asian woman who put her trust in him.
White man is my lord, my god, my savior (3)
White man: “In my wrath I smote thee, but in my favour have I had mercy on thee. Therefore thy legs shall be open continually and they shall not be shut day nor night; that men may bring unto thee the forces of their sex and that thy womb shall be overflown with their semen. For the day of vengeance is mine heart. I will trample thee in my anger and make thee drunk with my semen in my fury; and thy virgin blood shall be sprinkled upon my garments and I will stain all my raiment with thy piss. And I will feed thee with my cum and thou shall be drunken as with sweet wine: and all the asian women shall know I the lord am thy Saviour and thy Redeemer, the mighty King of Jews. Thus saith the White god.”
asian woman: “Oh my White lord, rebuke me in thine anger, chasten me in thy hot displeasure, for I am the slave of thine love. But have mercy on me, O White lord, for I am weak; heal me, pity me and fill me to the brim for my soul is empty without thee. I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.
“For thine mighty arrow stick fast inside my womb, and thy strong foot presseth my head sore.
“There is no soundness in my flesh because of thine power; neither is there any rest in my bones because of thine thrust. I am feeble and sore broken. All my desire for thee is before thine eyes; and my groaning is not hid from thee. My heart panteth, my strength faileth me; as for the light of mine eyes, it also is gone from me.
“As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteh my desire after thee, O White man. My soul thirsteth for thee; when shall I come and appear before thee?
“For in thee do I hope; for I will declare my iniquity; I will atone for my sin and gladly receive my punishment. Forsake me not, O my White man, be not far from me. Make haste to chastise me, punish me, torture me, for thou art my rock, my salvation.”
Gordon’s sex slave
When I just became Gordon’s sex slave, I have to admit, I had been reluctant at times and even regretful, and at times extremely pained, but the fact that Gordon owns me now have relieved of all my pain, and lifted all the responsibilities off my shoulder; not only that but I have, in the past two years, gradually come to, not only fully accept but, fully embrace Gordon’s various torture and humiliation techniques, and sometimes I have even eagerly anticipated to being subject to his various cruel tortures. I can honestly say that I enjoy being tortured as much as Gordon and his father enjoyed torturing me.
After I was bailed out of prison, I was taken to Gordon’s father’s estate and I was severely disciplined for my transgression. The first re-encounter with Mr. Becker was extremely awkward. Because when we first met, during the last Christmas, I thought I was his equal, but this time I was going to become his slave just like Michiko. Though this society through their mind-engineering laws and social constructing discourses told me that Mr. Becker and I were equal, in reality I knew he was superior to me.
For the first three days I was put inside a small steel cage where I crouched into a fetal position, with my knees to my chest, for three entire days; there was barely enough room for my lung to fully extend. Fear filled my heart. Fear and terror at what was going to coming. It was a cage used to put dogs or other domestic animals, and I was told that I must now understand I was nothing other than a domestic pet belonging to the Becker family. “You are no longer a human being in the eyes of your white gods. You are a chink whore, like the chink whores my brothers brought home from Afghanistan. You must learn your place in my family, do you understand?” Sometimes I cried, and sometimes I cursed, but in the end I was too exhausted to cry or to curse anymore. I did feel hatred, but in the end I was too exhausted to hate. In the end I had become resigned and I had come to surrender my fate to my master, to surrender to him my soul, my flesh, my whole existence. In the end, I wanted to become fully owned by my white masters as their chink whore, as my master Gordon so elaborately put.
It was my destiny that I must learn to accept, the destiny to be enthralled by superior white gods. Because this life is too hard for me to bear.
During those first three days I was only given water and some plain bread to eat, and everyday I was administered three enemas, once with plain water in the morning, once with hot sauce in the afternoon, and another time with vinegar in the evening. The worst was the hot sauce. And not only was it administered to my rectum, but Mr. Becker had smeared hot sauce in my pussy as well. The initial burning sensation drove me crazy, but Lord in Heaven had designed humans in such a way that we quickly learn to adapt and bear the miserable fate to which we were all born to, and I learned to deal with the pain and accept the pain with calmness. Each time Mr. Becker put the hot sauce into my pussy and my anus, the fear of the burning sensation became more acute than the actual pain from its burning sensation; whenever I saw Mr. Becker carrying the hot sauce bottle in his hand, I screamed and cried and begged for mercy. “The end goal of torture”, from Mr. Becker’s words, “is not to maim her cunt, but to make her derive pleasure from it, to turn her into a masochist.” I understood I must learn to enjoy being tortured. I need to learn that my pain was meant to bring pleasure to my master and I must learn to feel happy for bringing pleasure to my masters. I need to be trained to become absolutely obedient. Even now as I remembered that tiny steel cage my whole body shivered. For three days straight I was covered in my own urine and feces and my whole body constantly ached. The terror of being confined inside a small cage still haunts me now but then in the end I was willing to endure anything just to avoid being put back into that cage. Not only that, but that was a very snowy winter and on the second day Gordon and his father brought me to the backyard and buried me under snow for an entire night. I thought I was going to freeze to death. I no longer thought about anything else other than avoiding punishment. And in order to avoid punishment, I must learn to obey without a second thought.
Like Michiko, I too was branded with the word “ASIAN SOW” across my pelvis. The branding was done on the fourth day by Mr. Becker, after I was released from the cage. They had set up a table in the backyard along with coals and branding iron. I was chained to the table in a spread eagle position. The only warmth I obtained was from the fire pot laying next to my naked body. When the branding iron was brought down I heard the crisp sizzling sound from my own flesh being charred but not for long before my eyes went blind as the snowy mountains in the distance darkened and the blue cloudless sky twirled in a frenzy and became starless night. Thinking back to that moment now, I felt it actually a quite sweet moment. The pain had put me into a slumber but awakened my soul. At that moment I became truly owned. I felt fulfilled. I felt alive. I felt I belonged and I belonged to my white masters. I am an asian woman belonging to where I should belong and I feel satisfied. My life has had meaning from then on and its meaning was, and still is, to serve and worship white men as my gods. My brand mark was not only on my flesh, but also in my mind, in my soul. From that moment on, I have officially become a sex slave belonging to the Becker family.
A strange marriage
In order to remain in America, I need to become married. Marriage is the happiest movement a woman could wish for. Marriage is the dream of every woman since her childhood. I was no different. I was filled with excitement at the prospect of being married to Gordon, my master. But my marriage was special, different from any other woman’s marriage. I was married to my master, as a slave married to her master, a dog betrothed to her owner. The marriage set up was different too. I was going to be completely naked at my wedding, except for wearing a dog collar. I was not going to walk, but crawl beside my master, and later on I would be gang banged by all the male members at the wedding reception. And that was not it. My mother and step father was going to be there too, and my wedding ceremony would be videotaped and all the videos put online and shared with all my friends and acquaintances.
When I crawled down the aisle, while Gordon led me on a leash, my mother and my stepfather was there witnessing that moment, and my mother’s eyes got big when she saw me, while my stepfather just sat back and laughed with his hands covering his big belly. It was what my mother had always wanted; she desperately wanted me to become just like her, to become a slave to a white man just like her. I felt happy to be seen by my parents in the state I was in, to be seen by my other Chinese girlfriends and strangers. It was what I was meant to become. I no longer felt humiliated. I felt happy. I felt calmness in my soul, a cool breeze of release and freedom. It was strange isn’t it? I found my freedom through my slavery. In my slavery I had become free.
I suppose this is the ultimate goal of freedom: after all my struggle I must finally come to my own slavery by means of free will. That is the path of freedom, from tyranny to struggle to self-imposed tyranny, kind of like French Revolution, but with different masters.
I was once bound in chains by asian men, but now I have become free and I have accepted the white men as my masters. I was once tortured by evil; now I am tortured by all that is holy. I had been released from the bondage of darkness; now I must accept the bondage of Light.
Gordon’s will is my will and I do everything to please my husband, my master, my lord, my savior.
My entire wedding ceremony was videotaped and the videos were sent to all my Chinese girlfriends as well as Gordon’s friends. Some of my girlfriends, especially the ones in China, were shocked and disgusted, but some expressed sympathy and felt slight attraction to my life. One said I was so courageous, another said I was a precursor of asian feminism, and that I was not only expressing my sexuality, but expressing my sexual freedom, and in her words I was “a freedom fighter”.
No matter what people say about me—nothing seems to bother me anymore—I have achieved euthymia of the mind, like a Buddhist monk that have attained the zen of my existence, through my sexual slavery at the feet of my master.
As I walked down the aisle with my master Gordon tugging on my leash, everyone saw the cruel whip marks on my bare ass, the branding mark of “ASIAN SOW” right above my pussy, and the rope marks around my ankles and my wrists, I felt so happy, so calm. Standing at the other end was Mr. Becker along with his slave wife Michiko, who was kneeling at his feet. My stepfather and my mother were standing a little to the side and Bob, my stepfather, was grinning and elbowing my mother, who stood there without any expression on her face. I was sure when they went home, my stepfather was going to give my mother a sound fucking thinking about all that had happened that day.
Gordon’s brothers and several male friends were there as well, and not coincidentally, all of them had little asian women embraced in their arms, watching me and Gordon processing down the aisle. It was a sweet moment, an embarrassing moment, and my cheeks still flush with excitement remembering their faces.
My wedding vow was written by Gordon’s father and it was even embarrassing to re-utter it. How could anyone write the words “anal sex” into a wedding vow? My wedding was strange, in a sweet and tender way.
After the ceremony several guests tied me to the hood of the black limousine, spread eagled lying on top, and they fixed two vibrators, one inside my pussy and another one inside my anus. The driver slowly drove around the blocks, honking while driving and there were loud cheers all around me. It was so exciting.
They said this was the way Roman conquerors humiliated conquered women. Roman generals used to tie enemy’s women naked onto their chariots and drove them into the battlefield. It was a fitting punishment for me. I was nothing but a conquered woman that once belonged to a defeated race. Now I belong to a superior race.
That night, Michiko and I were gang banged by all the males at the party. There was one black male, but the rest of them were all white. I wasn’t sure if Bob was there for the after-party or if he was there, whether he had fucked me or not. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did, or maybe he was warmly invited to fuck me. Even when my mother had just remarried, my step father had on every occasion tried to touch me and grope me. When I was living with my mother and him back in China, he used to hug me and kiss me every day, greeting me with a bear hug when I came back home from school and landing nasty slimy kisses on my face, or when watching TV putting his arm around my shoulders and tugging me into his chest. It was obvious he had amorous feelings for me. Well, now he didn’t need to hide it anymore. Michiko and I, along with two other asian women whom I didn’t know before, were each tied to a chair with our legs spread wide open, and they put a blanket over our heads and locked us inside a dark empty warehouse. Isn’t it wonderful to live in a post-racial society where race no longer matters? Though Michiko is Japanese and I am Chinese, it didn’t matter because we were all equal before our white gods. We were inside that pitch dark room for about an hour or so until we heard the iron gate being lifted open and bright electric light was turned on. The blankets were lifted up and I saw a large crowd of men, all completely naked and they were ready to fuck me. It was funny how they all looked so different, and yet so similar. Some were tall, some short, some fat, some skinny, some very white, some somewhat dark. Well, they were all white, but they were so differently white, like how some were very dark skinned, some very light skinned.
I felt so happy that night. I was the center of all their attention. They all wanted to fuck me. I felt wonderful.