Tag: BWC

A fragment of my sexual life

My sexual awakening as a woman has always been centered around white men. They say you never forget your first kiss, your first love, your first hug, your first time holding hands. Everything first that is remotely sexual for me has been always associated to white men, with myself being keenly aware of my petite, frail body and my inferior status as an Asian female via-a-vis the much taller, stronger, and more superior white male.

It’s the way I’ve been conditioned. Ever since I turned 18, I knew, for the rest of my life, I would be serving, worshiping white men and their white cocks, bowing down to their feet and offering myself to them.

No Asian man needs to know just how used and broken I have been by the superior white men. Because the only time I’ve had Asian male friends was when I was in high school. After I turned 18, I’ve been white-only.

I’ve been used as a gang bang toy by white men and they have stuck inside my holes whatever you could find: beer bottles, permanent ink markers, broomstick, cucumber, eggplant, hair brush, etc. They called me a “used up yellow whore”, as they fucked me, and I cried to myself in shameful orgasm.

I was pimped out by my white owner and I have given in to any white men who wanted me. I loved the idea that I was a cheap Asian whore, and it made me feel happy. I was finally living the life that I truly desired.

Every white man around me knows that I was the school slut, the neighborhood slut, the company slut. I loved feeling how worthless I am. I loved feeling how inferior I am.

My first love as a gang bang whore

One time, a guy friend texted me and asked me to come over for a party and when I got there I saw 5 other guys in the room, all total strangers to me. He introduced me to them by saying that I was the Asian slut he was referring to, the one who was gang-banged by 12 guys during the previous party.

I was extremely embarrassed but also very horny.

They talked about me like I wasn’t even there, saying very racist stuffs about how Asians are born to be whores, how much Asian women crave superior white cocks, and how Asian sluts like me get turned on by humiliation and degradation. I knew it was wrong but it just felt so right.

Because in school and at work, those are the things you were never supposed to say. Those are the things that I’ve been craving. The realness. I had an insatiable craving for realness. That was what I needed. And I fucking loved it.

I just turned 21 that year but I was not a virgin.

We started drinking and then one guy found an empty beer bottle and told me to sit on it. Being the pathetic, dirty yellow whore that I was, I did as I was told. Seeing how obedient and submissive I was, the other guys all got interested and they came over and started groping me.

I slowly started to realize, no matter how much the polite society would want to genetically and biologically modify human behavior, guys—even liberal white guys who champion equality all day—still get turned on by female obedience, even if they would not admit it openly.

The hands behind me first started by massaging my back, then slowly drifted down to touching my ass, eventually wrapping around my torso to cupping my breasts. The hands in front of me slipped from my breasts to my stomach, my hips, and stopped around my thighs and rubbed me there back and forth.

Eventually one hand found its way into my pussy and started flickering my clit. Then many more hands fought against each other toward there, stretching my pussy lips, squeezing their fingers inside between my vaginal opening against the glass beer bottle, playing with my pussy hair (at the time I didn’t shave my pussy hair. It was only after I turned 22 that I started laser treatment to remove all my body hair.)

I also felt hands on top of my head and at the bottom of my sole. They were like a bunch of urchins seeing a woman for the first time.

They also fingered my ass and stuck their fingers in my mouth right after. Bursts of laughter and loud yelling ensued as I licked it up. They enjoyed humiliating me and I was turned on by my own humiliation.

Eventually I begged them all to fuck me and they used all my holes.

I was extremely sore the day after.

Sex, especially rough, humiliating, and degrading sex, can be the most cathartic expression for a woman. It’s the equivalent of men playing sports. The violent means, though condemnatory by the polite society, is what drives our female instinct. Without those, humans stop reproducing.

The entire night I was fucked no less than 10 times and they had all taken turns cumming inside me. My mouth, my pussy, and my ass were filled to the brim with their invigorating nectar. I was covered in their cum, their sweat, their spit, and my own urine.

I felt disgusted with myself. I hated myself with being such a worthless whore, and yet I couldn’t stop. I cried to myself knowing what a dirty yellow slut I was and as I cried, my hand meandered to my pussy and I started to play with my pussy again.

I still masturbate myself to the memory of what happened.

Living as a trophy wife in another country

I did study abroad in my senior and that was when I met my first husband who decided to take me in as his trophy Asian wife. I wouldn’t say that my behavior was typical, but I actually knew quite a few other Asian girls who were in similar living arrangements.

I wouldn’t mention names, for obvious reasons. They have all moved on and they are all having successful careers and, I assume, some of them are married and have had children.

So one girl I met while I was in London was a Chinese girl from Columbia University. She was originally from Beijing. Her father was a scientist who was a permanent staff in some science laboratory at Yale. She had been engaged in a SM relationship with a man she just met in London. She showed me pictures of her inside a dungeon and on a few occasions she asked me if she’s interested in joining her boyfriend. We talked briefly but the chemistry wasn’t there, so it never materialized.

Another girl I met was from California. She was also Chinese, but born and raised in US and she actually became the trophy wife to a friend of my husband. We were very close and we are still friends to this day.

Even though we were all Asian, our husbands and sex partners were all old white men.

“There is no wrong with it. Love is love.” I remember one of them saying.

“I dislike Asian guys. I want to make sure Asian guys go extinct.” Another one would chime in.

“My parents want me to have strong masculine grandsons.”

From my experience, I would say, something like 80 percent of all Asian women are engaged in some sort of sexual liaison with white men.

Some might think it’s wrong, or abnormal, and in the past, I’ve tried to justify and find reasons for it. But over the years, I’m honestly tired. Moreover, I’m simply over it. I’m an Asian woman who is attracted to white men. So?

If you are looking for reasons to justify your action, or to even draw attention to it, then you are actually admitting that something wrong with it. The fact of the matter is, there is nothing wrong with love. Love is just love.

While the vast majority of my girlfriends are Chinese and Japanese, the vast majority of my guy-friends are white, and it’s like a perfect match made in Heaven. (I don’t have that many Korean girlfriends, primarily because I don’t speak Korean and I’ve never lived in Korea.)

I often enjoyed pairing off my innocent Asian girlfriends with white guys whom I know are thirsty for Asian pussies and it actually warms my heart, to be able to bring friends together.

My 50 Shades of Grey

It was during my stay in London that I had the most powerful orgasm during simulated rape. My then husband was very aggressive and sadistic, and before he fucked me, he beat me, whipped me. He could only get hard when he saw me crying and begging for mercy. And when he fucked me I couldn’t hold back my moans as I came. My entire body felt tingly and warm.

The more I was degraded, the more cruelly I was treated, the more turned on I was. The worst humiliation of my life was the realization that I finally found someone who could give me what I actually wanted, and yet it was someone who treated me like absolute garbage.

Even prior to meeting him, I’ve had my share of fun. They were mostly with younger white guys who were naive and uneducated about female psychology, and with him, for the first time I was able to grasp what it feels like to be alive.

“My humiliation is your entertainment. My pain is your pleasure. My suffering is your amusement.”

This was what I repeated after my punishment every night, and this morning, as awoke from an uneasy dream, those words vaguely were whispered once again to my ears. Somewhere from the deep unconscious those words resurfaced and they were sent me into a trance. I was reminded of the past and it was like a dream, a beautiful and sweet dream, mixed with tears, laughters, sweat, and cum.

A perpetual question that humans ever try to answer: whether this life is just a dream and the dreams that we dreams are real.

Because what we dream in dreams seem to so much more real, and so much more interesting than life itself.