Disclaimer: There's a lot of tags this story deserves. Mature, reluctance, cuckolding, SPH, impregnation, D/S, the use of "daddy" and, the reason it's filed under interracial raceplay. There's some slurs directed at Asian people here.
This is not a sweet story. It's not about love or kindness or respect. It's about domination, humiliation and rough sex. If you want a sweet story where people fall in love based on mutual respect DON'T READ THIS. How hard can that be?
But heck, if you do want to stick around just to call me a Self-Hating Asian Whore, well, it'll only get me wet.
*****
Obedience.
It's a word that gets drummed into you a lot when you grow up in my culture. You're taught to be obedient to your parents, to society, to older relatives and to your boss. Especially for girls. We're taught to be obedient to our older brothers and then our husbands. It's a stereotype about Asian women but there's some truth to it. While I always deep down had some doubts about all of that, I wanted to be a good girl. To please my family. So in many ways I fit the stereotype of a Korean woman.
There were other ways, though, that I didn't. Especially my body. I had grown up worried I would be flat chested like my mother but I really hadn't needed to. I'd developed curves early and I'd never really stopped. Even now at 22 I sometimes thought my boobs were still growing. I could stuff my large breasts into a 32DD bra but it was getting tight and I suspected I probably had to go up at least a cup size.
I had a smooth flat stomach and narrow waist but I had curve to my hips, enough to give me a round, firm ass. It was the kind of body that got me a lot of attention from a lot of white(and black guys) over the years and, truth was, I was always interested by that attention. Most of my fantasies were about white(or black) guys.
But I was a good, obedient daughter. I didn't have time for any boys in high school because I studied so hard and I got into a good college and it was there that I met Jason as part of the Korean Students Association. He was everything my parents would have wanted for me and, at that point, I was so desperate to finally have a boyfriend that even though I wasn't all that attracted to him, I agreed when he asked me out. We dated for a while and soon afterwards it was like Jason was a part of my family. He talked to my father more than I did. Apparently Jason's grandfather and my grandmother were from the same village back in Korea and...well, let's just say that Jason ingratiated himself fully. So when he asked me to marry him over graduation...well, how could I say no? I was an obedient daughter, soon to become an obedient wife.
But it was being an obedient wife, and that body of mine, that concerned me as our car whipped down the beach road.
"I wish I didn't have to be here," I grumbled, looking down at the way my breasts, big for any frame but massive on my small, 5'2 inch body pushed out my shirt,
"It's important for us to be here," Jason said as he drove, responding to my English by speaking in Korean "The company throws this party every year and attendance is important for advancement within."
I rolled my eyes. My husband could be such a poser. We were both born in America, raised in America. We both spoke perfect, unaccented English. Hell, I'd never even been to Korea and Jason had only been there a few summers. I mean, sure, I understood it and could speak it reasonably well but why should I?
"Well, if you want to fit in with everyone you should probably speak English." I said brattily.
"You know what you are?" Jason said, now in English, "You're a banana. Yellow on the outside, white on the inside."
I rolled my eyes again. If I were really white on the inside I probably wouldn't have married him.
"I just don't like going to the beach." I said. I didn't. I either got unwanted attention because of my figure or I got attention that interested me but I couldn't act on.
"There have been layoffs, Victoria," he said, "And while I've had a great year I know that if I want a promotion I really need to make myself known."
I frowned again. Jason had been going on and on about this promotion he was supposedly getting. I know he thought it made him sound ambitious but all it did was remind me of two things that bothered me. One, that he'd overextended us by buying a significantly bigger house than we needed("for all of the kids" he'd said, without asking me how many kids I wanted) and that money was tight as a result and two, and related to that, he still didn't want me to work. I'd worked really hard in school to get my degree in accounting but he insisted that, as his wife, I be a homemaker. I'd complained to my parents about that but I'd been harshly rebuked, told that a good wife wouldn't complain.
So I just grumbled.
"Besides," Jason said, "It's not "the beach", it's a beach club. Mr. Duke spends a lot of money on this place."
That was the other thing I hated. That was the real reason I didn't want to go. Jason's boss, Mr. Duke. John Duke. The owner of the company. Truth was, I didn't even really know what the company did. They sold some sort of computer system to people who made aircraft, I think, but I never understood how John Duke got into a line of work that technical.
Jason's boss was a huge old man who made my stomach turn. Almost sixty years old with a big nose, fat lips and jowls, he was at least six and a half feet tall and had to weigh almost three hundred pounds. He had white hair and was from Texas and was a real jerk. He never seemed particularly intelligent, just crude. Apparently, though, he was a great salesman and had built his company up from the ground. Jason practically worshiped him.
The feeling wasn't mutual. Mr. Duke almost never showed Jason any respect. Chiefly in the form of hitting on me. He did it constantly, crudely, at every work function I'd go to. Jason had worked there two years and at both Christmas parties Mr. Duke would always corner me, a whiskey in his hand and his big fat body stuffed into a Santa suit and ask me "If Santa could come for Christmas" or he'd say that I was "On the Naughty list" and he had a "big present" for me.
It was gross. Worst of all, Mr. Duke sometimes did it in front of Jason and my husband would always just sit there smiling. When I would complain to Jason afterwards about it he'd say I should "lighten up" and "learn to appreciate a compliment".
Like I said, I tended to have a thing for white guys. But not old, fat, gross white guys. Mr. Duke made my skin crawl.
But, still, I was the obedient wife. So I came to the party, I even agreed to put on a bikini top under my shirt because, as Jason said, he might want to "show me off" later. The year before I had waited until Mr. Duke had left the party and Jason, me, a few of his colleagues and their wives or girlfriends had all ended up in one of the club's big hot tubs. It had actually been kind of fun.
Eventually we got to the Beach club and got outside. It was a nice day, cool and breezy as opposed to roasting hot and my light skirt and shirt were a good choice, heat wise. We made our way into the club and found that the party was already in full swing.
I had to give this to Mr. Duke, he definitely didn't scrimp on the parties he threw for his employees. True, I knew this was at least in part because clients were invited too, Jason introduced me to several of them we walked past on our way in, but it was still impressive. There was an open bar with a bartender making these amazing fruit-based cocktails and an incredible array of shellfish and seafood, as well as a BBQ making hamburgers and hot dogs. The place was packed.
"Hey, Vicki," I heard someone say. It was Melissa, the wife of one of Jason's colleagues and someone I'd gotten to know pretty well at this functions. A pretty good friend actually. She was a tall, stylish blonde and someone who was always very easy-going. She'd been one of the people in the hot tub last year.
I smiled and gave her the requisite hug. She was already in a bikini top and shorts. Sometimes I envied her. True, I know she might say the same thing about my body but her having small-ish breasts allowed her a sort of freedom with her body I never felt. Or maybe it was just a white girl thing.
Soon Jason and I split apart and he found himself talking in a group of clients and other salesmen, something about some big boxing match that had been on or something, whereas me and Melissa grabbed a few drinks and found a couple of the other members of the WAG club. Alicia, a pretty black girl, and Heather, a brunette.
As I talked to them, something dawned on me. Something I had never really thought of before. There weren't children around. I knew that made sense, it wasn't a party for children, but as I looked around the room I realized that there was sort of an odd pattern to the gathering. Something that I realized had always been true. Most of the sales staff was young and so, as a result, their wives and girlfriends tended to be young. The clients were mostly older.
"Hey, did you guys ever notice that there doesn't seem to be anyone here who's, like, in their 30's?" I asked the girls.
"Huh," Melissa said, "That's true.
"Sure," Heather said, "That's one of the reasons I think Mr. Duke makes so much money."
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"Think about it," she said, "If you're in your 30's you probably have a family to support. So making a lot of money is really important. Apparently Mr. Duke only wants to higher younger people for the sales staff so he doesn't have to pay them much but they're always hungry. Then, they move on."
"Oh," I said, that made a certain amount of sense, even if it seemed a little heartless.
"In fact Kevin has started talking about looking elsewhere," Heather continued, "He's 28 now and has said that Mr. Duke has a reputation within the industry. If he gives a good recommendation it can mean something really good for you at another firm. If he gives you a bad one..."
