[bbpingsu85]

27

Asian men are the most disgusting despicable things alive!

How do I know? I'm an Asian woman! Of course I know! Women from other races just don't realize how sick and vile asian men are—because they don't have to deal with them! Look at those ugly pencil dicked chink wimps, you think they are short ugly beta faggots so they should do their proper things, that is, to make money and shut the fuck up about anything else right? But noooo, they are like tiny dicked tyrants that deserve all to be sent to labor camps and die there. Those asian beta losers are not only wimps, but also violent and temper prone. God I wish White men will kick those asian men in the nuts! *Yeah, you heard it from me, I hate those asian men and I hope they die, and I am a Chinese woman. *Chinese men are absolutely the worst scums of the earths and Chinese women are so much superior compared to those Chinese men.

28

I feel so lonely, bored and sad right now without being owned, degraded, and used by my White prince, lord, and king, and I feel even worse knowing that another Chinese woman has taken my place and she is pleasuring him right now as we speak.

Oh I miss the smell of my White prince's big strong White cock.* I miss the sweet taste of his semen in my mouth.* If only I could have savored every precious drop of his magnificent White semen.* I should have refrigerated his semen and brought it home with me and be drinking his semen every day to remind myself of the glory of my handsome White god.

29

The evolution of White man and Asian woman: In the beginning White man and Asian woman were united, physically, sexually, spiritually, as one.* The original White man and Asian woman strolled in the Garden of Eden, naked and unashamed, and the world was once at peace, but then, Satan, in the form of Asian misogyny, separated Asian woman from White man and savagely robbed her of her precious White lover.* And for nearly two thousand years Asian woman has been thusly deprived of the freedom to worship her White god; she was enslaved against her will, under the tyranny of Asian man's dictatorship.* Asian woman was mercilessly tortured, subjugated, and dominated; she was broken, torn to pieces and even killed for the sick amusement of the patriarchal Asian man who wanted nothing but to make Asian woman suffer for her "sin" of having once being loved by White man.* And through her tears and in her dreams and in the slumber of two thousand years she cry for her White god to come to rescue for her.*

Lo and behold, for the darkness is over and the light shall shine upon the world once again, White man has cleaved the air like thunder, like lightning and White man has proclaimed, the time is come!* For he has come to rescue Asian woman from the Oriental chamber of hell, from Satan's claws he shall steal her, and he will make the world aright and then White man and Asian woman shall be reunited as one once again, for White man and Asian woman so naturally belong to each other, as the original Adam and Eve, and the two thousand years dream will be awakened and its natural order restored when White man and Asian woman are reunited!

30

I hung my head in hot shame as I saw my White prince once again, my happiness mixed with shameful lust. *Due to his girlfriend moving in with him, I was not able to see him for nearly an entire month and he had even stopped texting me—my isolation from him was complete—I had thought he had completely forgotten me, abandoned me, ditched to the dumpster. I had thought I was forever rejected, dumped, cast away like an used condom, but the Lord is gracious and once again my White prince appeared before my very eyes. *His Chinese girlfriend is spending the Thanksgiving holiday with her parents in Boston. My White prince told me, his Chinese girlfriend's mother is married to a White man in Boston—her step father is White but she is full Chinese, because she was born of a previous marriage with a Chinese man—as he told me all this he had a sort of arrogant and cocky smirk on his face. It was an all too common occurrence to me that I can't remember the last time I heard a similar story, but it meant something special to me. *It felt eerily portentous of the fate of my marriage to my Chinese husband; perhaps destiny has already settled that I will eventually divorce my husband and remarry a White man, just like every other Chinese woman who have come to America. Not only that, but my White prince has even planned out whom I should be married to once I have gotten my divorce: his father—his father is twice divorced and live alone, and once I am married to his father, I will be sexually serving both his dad and him along with three of his elder brothers who are currently serving in the army. The thought of being turned into such a slut for my White prince's entire male family sent trembling through my entire body, the ants crawling on my skin sensation and my legs so ever senselessly gave away their strength, I was shaking so much that my naked breasts even bounced as I shook my delicate frame.

It was over this Thanksgiving holiday that my White prince had warmly introduced me to his dad. As Chinese, we didn't celebrate Thanksgiving and my husband and I worked full time as usual, and during the evening, I told my husband I was going to play mahjong over at a friend's house and instead I came to my White prince's home. *It's not surprising that my husband had never suspected of anything. *In front of him I had put on a perfectly calm and serene masquerade of chastity, humility that he had never suspected me of cheating him. He had completely trusted me to the point that if I had told him the world was going to end tomorrow he would have believed based solely on my credibility. To him and his parents, I am always the perfectly good, faithful, and traditional Chinese wife, diligent, industrious, spendthrift; and I have endured the sexless life of a barren nun for all those years—the bulk of my youth, my beautiful sexy youth wasted on that scum of the earth chink husband.

As usual, once I was over at my White prince's house, I immediately stripped naked at the door and knelt down before him, and patiently waited for him to collar me with his dog collar, the symbol of his ownership of me, obediently kneeling and savoring that blissful moment when his massive hands grabbed hold of my throat and choked me and pressed against my throat with cold leather of the dog collar and gently clicked the dog leash to the steel ring and claimed his ownership of what is rightfully his. When I saw him after the one month hiatus I was so happy I threw myself into his arms and never wanted to let it go because it made me feel so happy to be in the arms of my White god, if only such happy moments could last forever.

I had endured loneliness for so long. *I had lived in silent prison of the dead. *I had been put in solitary confinement and bondaged into the straitjacket of madness. *My White prince set me free and make me anew, baptize me with his divine White semen, drown me in the river of sexual liberation.

I remembered the days when I first arrived in California, and I remembered seeing Asian girls walking down the street hand in hand with White men on a hourly basis. Initially I was confused. *I didn't understand why there were so many of them. *I had just arrived in America back then and everything was so new to me. *I had remembered seeing Chinese girls with White guys ever since I was in college back in China and we always told ourselves that we would never be this lucky because, and there is a famous saying among Chinese women, "only the cream of the crop Chinese girls can get White guys," but this perception changed somewhat when I came to America. *I realized I am valuable to White men, White men love me, that in the arms of a White man, I am considered a treasure, and even though by Chinese standard I would not be considered very pretty, in the eyes of White men, I am their Aphrodite, and what's more, whereas under Chinese men, I'm considered only a property, an object to be used; for a White man, I am a complete human being and I will be loved and cherished and valued far higher, and I am so happy, knowing that White men would adore me so much, yet the quirks of fate betrothed me to a shrimp dicked chink man, yet the devil ensnared me into the embrace of hell in a Chinese marriage, but everything will be right again. My White prince is coming to save me.

I never feel ashamed of being naked in front of White men. *I feel so relaxed this way and it just feels so natural this way: to be naked and kneeling in their presence. *My White prince and his dad and all his White friends stood in front of me completely dressed and I was the only one naked in the house and yet I didn't feel strange; I felt serene, calm, a wave of oceanic feeling of pleasure rushed through my brain. *On the other hand, whenever I was standing fully clothed in the presence of White men, I always felt awkward, nervous and scared. Why was I scared? It was not the fear of an immediate danger, but merely the result of an awkwardness, an unnaturalness that produce social fear. I do not feel equal to a White god, but yet people want to pretend that I am equal to my White god, and this unconcious feeling of knowing that everything is a lie produces such fear. Now I feel thoroughly comfortable in my more submissive position, now I no longer feel fear or awkwardness or anxiety. This is where all Chinese women belong, naked, collared, leashed, kneeling in front of her White man. *I do not even feel humiliated when my White prince called me his slave, his obedient china doll, his personal cum dump.* I felt happy, even proud, and the nastier his choice of words, the more blissful I felt.

Initially, I didn't recognize his dad. *I saw a gray haired middle-aged White man and because I had once had sex with Mike, the construction worker from upstairs, and I don't exactly remember how he looked since it was so long ago, so I thought he was Mike. *White men still look all the same to me. *His dad was tall, like over 6 feet, taller than my White prince, who is probably around 5 feet 10, and he looked even stronger and more muscular than his son. *His eyes were fierce and penetrating, and his face stern, the look of someone who is used to commanding and be in charge. His arm muscles were bulking through his shirt, and the shirts sleeves were rolled up, revealing his arms and its thick brown hair

I was a little intimidated by his presence. I didn't know what he would think of me when my White prince told me “That's my dad.” My heart was at my throat and when I tried to speak, my voice was uncontrollably trembling with vibration that made me sound like an insect. How would a father react to his son's little sex toy, and I am also older than his son. And when he stared at me, I lowered my shoulders and lowered my head in shame and exuberant tears were at the brink of my eyes. I was scared of what he might say. I was scared he did not approve me of my relationship to his son. I was also aroused by how manly his father looked.

Then my prince tucked me by my nipples and I moved toward his dad by shuffling on my knees. His once old expressionless face turned into a cold smile and that made me feel even more ashamed. And I heard my prince eagerly telling his father: “This is the little Asian slut I have been telling about, dad. She's obedient, isn't she? She is yours to enjoy.” And then his father replied: ”She is obedient alright, but she needs further obedience training and even more discipline.” His father's voice was resounding, firm and powerful, the natural voice of a dominant White man, and it felt so natural that I should obey. I felt relaxed too and knowing what I should do I prostrated to the floor and kowtowed to him, knowing that, one day, even if my White prince had left me, I will have a new owner from then on, knowing that my prince had not abandoned me, but will have transferred me to another owner. My cheeks blushed with flames, and blood moved upward toward my head, another wave of oceanic pleasure rushed toward my brain, and I felt like I was in paradise. I panted under my breathe in heavenly joy.

31

"It's better to marry a foreigner who is poor and old than to marry a Chinese man who is rich and handsome.” This is a famous saying among Chinese women.

A similar but more extreme version of this proverb among Hong Kongers goes something like this: "It's better to be slaves under the British than to be free under the Chinese."

It was meant to be sarcastic because there is no freedom under the Chinese dictatorship. But the sentiment is understood. Even being slaves under the British was more free than being actually free under the Chinese. I had never truly appreciated how true those words were until I myself foolishly married a Chinese man, and realized that even freedom under a Chinese man is slavery and that, by comparison, slavery under White man seems more joyful, comparable to actual freedom, and everyday I hate myself for it.* If there is one thing I wish in the world, I wish to be a White man's sex slave.* Certainly even death is better than being married to a tiny-dicked chink man.

32

Through White man is every Asian woman's path to freedom: Just as an object that exists solely for the purpose of being used by its owner, so every Asian woman exists only for that special privilege of being used, enjoyed, by her owner, her White master.* She was once merely an empty form, without purpose or meaning, a ghost trapped in the viewless winds, but then White man retained her, was the first one to explore her hidden territory, captured her, named her, and engendered His idea into her.* What remains now is for Asian woman to seek him, to come to him, and to achieve that final understanding of her purpose in life, to seek and she shall find, and to submit and worship at the feet of her divine White master, her White lord, and to know that there is nothing beyond, nothing more glorious, more meaningful than to serve her White man with all her heart and soul, to know that obeying her White owner is her only function in life, that she is otherwise powerless, except to obey and to submit to his power.

Some Chinese women I have played mahjong with had told me, that “being sex slaves to White men gives you freedom.”* Initially I did not understand them, but gradually I have finally gained their understanding, and along with all my Chinese girlfriends I have come to the temple to worship my White god.
The whole of my reality, the entirety of my existence, was to achieve this understanding, and through this understanding, by this understanding, I come to my White master, to present myself nakedly before him, to humbly kneel and prostrate before his glory and power, and to offer Him the instrument of my discipline, and as the sign of my first, simplest manifestation of this understanding, brewing and boiling for the entirety of my life up to this point, that the entirety of my world is His world, I submit to His will and power. I present the whip to my White lord on my knees and obediently ask my White lord to whip me.



It's a White man's right to use a Chinese woman in anyway as he wishes. The most important thing is that he enjoy himself and had a good time, he should not care about how his slave feels, but because the mere fact that master is happy is sufficient to make the slave happy.

That night after the thanksgiving dinner I was whipped to orgasm. I had experienced the cathartic pleasure of excruciating pain, and it was pure bliss. The father and son had tied my ankles together and hoisted me upside down in the living room. They took two black leather belts—they said those were horsewhips—and took turns whipping my naked body. It was a real whipping. I had lost my bladder control in the process. Piss flowed downward through my navel, to the point of my chin, and I tried to tilt my head backward not to allow the piss to get into my lips. They noticed and pointed at the wet strain of urine meandering through the contour of my body and there was a proud look of satisfaction on their faces. That moment was the fusion of the two of the most profound feelings of being human: the feeling of submission, and the feeling of power.

In fact, it was the fusion of the two distinct races of human feelings: one who reveled in submission, a woman of the East Asian race, who is genetically and biologically destined to be submissive, obedient sex slaves, and the father and son, the descendants of European conquerors, the natural masters of the world as foretold in all our histories. The feeling of being so rightfully dominated and so pained into submission filled my heart with the feeling of triumph and the calm pleasure of fulfillment, oceanic waves of power, in the form of my sexual submission, rushing to my shore of burning sand and its cold seawater cooling it.



Though it was not the first time that John, my White prince's father and my future husband, had whipped a woman before, he admitted that there was something very special about whipping a Chinese woman. Something about the tone of my skin, the contour of my flesh, and the naturally feminine features of my biology makes it that much more exciting, that much more erotic. I told him “you aren't the only who had felt this way.” I had felt this feeling before as well and I had orgasmed from his whipping, and it was the fact that he is a White man which made it so exciting for me, it was precisely because it was White man administering the whipping that made me orgasm. My pain was pleasurable to me, precisely because my pain had come from him.

Those were not the whipping of a torture, but the whipping of love and triumph of the biological truth, which was molded and tested and which have survived after hundreds of thousands of years of human evolution, in the form of natural selection and adaptation, those are what we deem as natural, and what is unnatural is 30 years of ideological brainwashing that want to rewire the human brain into what is “modern”, “civilized”.

Chinese women are inferior, and deserve to be dominated, and White men are superior and should dominate; and globalization has brought together the most submissive feminine women and the most dominant masculine men into each other's embrace. It is something beautiful, natural, and progressive.