Additional information
by Jennifer Suzuki (Author)
A philosophical novel on BDSM, interracial love, and dominant White men-submissive east asian women relationships. The first part, through an autobiographical confession, deals primarily with the philosophical aspects of interracial BDSM relationships between dominant White men and submissive east asian women as well as establishing, albeit incompletely, the general weltanschauung of a natural order of race and for which the second part further elaborates by offering a panoramic purview through personal stories, historical artifacts and memoirs, mostly from the perspectives of submissive east asian women, and which, that is hoped, will bring about a complete weltanschauung. What is related in this book is the reality of the next two centuries; what is described is what is already happening and still to come, and what can no longer come any differently: that every White man shall have asian women as his wives, girlfriends, concubines, pleasure slaves, and meat urinals as the natural progression of the world as inevitable as the river that flows into the ocean however restlessly, violently, that wants to reach its destination, that no longer can stop, and that is afraid to stop; this fact and this reality-this future-speaks even now in a hundred signs; its destiny announces itself on every street corner; and yet some refuse to hear its music; but it will have reached a point when people will no longer be able to delude themselves. As I have said hundreds of times, economic power, as an element of soft power, will not translate into hard power, and feminine superiority will not thereby transubstantiate into masculine superiority, therefore it is imperative, inevitable that this trend will continue to move forward headlong, unabated by any tortured tension that might grow with it from decade to decade. Asian women therefore must always submit to White men's will, and do them all possible honor, and any asian woman who behaves differently is worthy not only of severe censure, but of harsh punishment. I consider, in my judgement, all those asian women who are other than agreeable, kindly, and compliant to White men, should be harshly and rigidly disciplined through corporal punishment until she prostrates on the ground begging for mercy from her lord, her White god. "For a good horse and a bad, spurs are required; for a good asian woman or bad, the rod is required." All asian women are by nature pliant and yielding, and hence for those who step beyond their permitted bounds, the rod is required to punish their transgressions and in order to sustain the virtues of other asian women, who practice restraint, the rod is required to encourage and frighten them. An asian woman must know that she is born to serve and worship her White man as her governor, her lord and her god, and she must learn to love her White man as her own dear life. The new dawn of mankind is here, and White man is that divine sun and asian woman is his emulous moon. As the glorious sun rises from the east, he must kill the submissive moon, who is already humiliated and defeated. The supreme sun will once again cast his light onto this world, and he shall cast his long shadow over the subjugated moon.
Author Biography
I was born in Japan, my mother is Chinese and my father is Japanese, and my father's mother or my grandmother was German Dutch, and I came to the United States as a teenager and lived and went to school in Maryland, and worked in New York. I lived in fantasy worlds since I was a teenager and I have always done so, sometimes so deep in my own fantasy I forgot my own identity. I no longer knew who I am. Physically I look more European than asian. My father is of mixed heritage-he has white blond hair, but he also has some distinctly Japanese features. On the other hand my features mostly resembled my grandmother, who was a full blooded European woman. Which was not something that really bothered me. Actually most modern Japanese look very European compared to the rest of asians. My father was a sadist, and my mother, on the other hand, was, in my opinion, a masochist with no self respect. Growing up, seeing my father beating my mother was almost as frequent as having dinner, and when not beating her, she was constantly being humiliated and degraded, like having to serve dinner to him naked on her knees or being tied to an utility pole only in her panties during the winter. At first I believed my mother was a victim, a unfortunate human being in the hands of a cruel evil man, but as I grew older I realized that it was my mother who enjoyed being treated this way. The initial realization made me feel she was a disgusting, perverted, sick person, but as I grew older I began to have the almost identical sexual fantasies that my mother lived and experienced through. I began to think that my mother was the luckiest woman on earth since apparently she had found a man who understood her desires and could give them to her.
