TRIGGER WARNING: This story will definitely not be to everyone's tastes. The author does NOT in any way condone the actions or attitudes that occur in this story. If you are offended by stories featuring rape and/or raceplay, READ NO FURTHER.
If not, please enjoy.
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I hit the bed with a reverberating thud as he threw me down. Before I could get up, he pounced on me, landing between my legs and trying to grab hold of my wrists as I struggled beneath his imprisoning weight. As I slapped and scratched at him like a feral cat, he gave up trying to restrain me and went straight for my neck, squeezing the air out of my throat and with it, my will to resist.
"Good little gook." He growled with satisfaction.
What the fuck did he just call me?
"Just relax and submit to your white master."
The light in the room was dim, so I could scarcely see who was attacking me. But I could tell he was strong, really strong. On top of that, he was apparently a white guy with a bad case of yellow fever. And how the hell did he know I was Asian in the first place?
With one hand still firmly clasped around my throat, his other hand migrated downwards, taking his time caressing and fondling my breasts before move ever southward, across the fabric of my dress and down towards what he really wanted.
I knew, of course, what he ultimately wanted, but the realization only hit home when his hand slipped under the hem of my dress. I felt his cold fingers caress my inner thigh before sliding up to my panties. A shot of adrenaline flooded my heart as his fingers slipped between the fabric and the flesh it protected. His cool knuckles were wedged snuggly between my labia as he gripped my underwear in his clenched fist, savoring the power he had over me.
"Seems you're all wet down there," he noted. It was too dark to see, but I could almost imagine a smug grin on his face. "Chink pussy always gets wet for white cock."
Thank god there was hardly any light in the room, so he couldn't see me turn red with embarrassment. It was actually true. I could feel my own moistness seeping from between my engorged lips. My own womanhood was anticipating what was about to happen. With one violent motion, my attacker ripped away my panties.
I had never felt so vulnerable in my life. My legs were spread wide open and my sex was exposed, unbearably vulnerable to the coming violation. I heard my attacker fumble with himself, and there was just enough light for me to see his silhouette pull down his pants. He must have been wearing sweatpants to have pulled them down so silently, a detail I hardly noticed as he maneuvered into position. I tensed my muscles, bracing for what was about to come.