#Abuse #Interracial

By Anonymous

An Asian Vietnamese college girl gets mind controlled (raceplay)

Part 3: Special Service

The nail salon smelled like acetone and jasmine. Athena Hoang sat behind the front counter scrolling through her phone, one leg crossed over the other, her acrylics tapping against the screen. She wore a cropped hoodie that showed a sliver of her flat brown stomach, high-waisted leggings that made her ass look like a sculpture, and her long black hair was up in a messy bun with two strands framing her face. She was gorgeous and she knew it. She had the kind of face that made frat boys stutter and the kind of attitude that made them feel stupid for stuttering.

“Athena!” Her mom’s voice came from the back room, carrying that particular Vietnamese-mother mix of warmth and command. “Come help these customers. They want the special service.”

Athena didn’t look up from her phone. “What special service, Ma?”

“The one in the back. I showed you. Be nice.”

Athena rolled her eyes. She’d been home for break for three days and her mom had been vague about some new “special service” she’d added to the salon’s menu. Some VIP package thing. Athena figured it was a fancy manicure with hot stones or whatever. She’d been too busy catching up with her girls — Linh and Jenny were also back from college and they’d been trading stories about the semester, the parties, the guys they’d rejected. The night before, they’d all been at a boba shop and Athena had recounted the frat party incident with theatrical disgust.

*”These white boys literally catcalled me from across the yard. Like, ‘Heyyyy, love you long time’ — I almost turned around and went off on them. Like, do I look like I’d give you the time of day?”*

Linh had cackled. Jenny had shaken her head. They’d all agreed: white frat guys were the worst. Entitled, basic, and completely delusional about their chances.

Athena set her phone down and stood up, adjusting her bun. She walked around the counter toward the front entrance where the customers were waiting, already composing her customer-service smile — the one that was polite but communicated *don’t talk to me more than necessary.*

She rounded the corner.

Three white guys. College-aged. Frat energy radiating off them like cheap cologne. One was tall and broad-shouldered with a backwards cap — the obvious leader type. The second was leaner, sandy-haired, with that smug grin she’d seen on a hundred guys like this. The third was stocky with a red beard and a t-shirt from some bar she didn’t recognize.

And the tall one — the one with the backwards cap — she recognized him. The frat party. The catcall.

Her smile dropped.

“Get the fuck out,” she said. Flatly. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just absolute.

The tall one — his name was Chad, because of course it was — raised his eyebrows with an amused expression. “Wow. That’s the welcome? Your mom’s way nicer.”

“My mom doesn’t know who you are. I do. You were at the Sigma party last month. You yelled some racist shit at me from across the yard.”

“Hey,” the sandy-haired one said, hands up in mock surrender. “That was just having fun. You looked good. We were complimenting you.”

“‘Love you long time’ is a compliment to you?”

“It’s a classic,” the stocky one said, grinning.

Chad stepped closer. “Look, we’re paying customers. Your mom said you’d take care of us. The special service. Back room, right?”

Athena’s jaw tightened. She felt that hot flush of anger she always felt when guys like this thought they could just walk into any space and be welcomed. “I’m not doing shit for you. Get out of my mom’s salon before I call the cops.”

“She won’t call the cops,” Chad said casually. He was looking at her with something she couldn’t quite read — not fear, not lust, something more settled than either. Like he already knew how this ended.

“Chad,” the sandy-haired one said, nodding slightly.

Chad reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. It was simple — silver band, a small dark stone set in the center. Nothing special-looking. Athena almost laughed.

“What is that, a class ring? You think I’m impressed—”

He held it up and the stone caught the light. It didn’t just catch the light. It *held* it. The dark surface swirled with something that wasn’t a reflection, and Athena’s eyes snagged on it before she could look away. It was like staring into a depth that had no bottom.

“—impressed by…” Her sentence trailed off.

“Just relax, Athena,” Chad said. His voice was calm, measured, and the words seemed to arrive in her head already understood, like they bypassed her ears entirely. “You’re so tense. You’re always so tense. Always defending, always pushing back. That’s exhausting, isn’t it?”

She wanted to say *no.* She wanted to say *get out.* Her mouth was open but nothing was coming. The ring was doing something to her — something warm and thick was spreading through her thoughts like honey poured into water, slowing everything, sweetening everything.

“That’s it,” Chad said softly. He stepped closer. “You’re a smart girl. Top of your class, right? STEM major? That brain works so hard for you. Always analyzing, always judging. What if it just… took a break?”

The warmth was in her limbs now. Her arms, which had been crossed defensively, uncrossed. Her shoulders dropped. She blinked slowly.

“Good girl,” Chad murmured, and the words hit her like a physical sensation — a tingle that ran down her spine and pooled low in her belly. She felt her lips curve. Not because she chose to smile. Because the smile was the natural response to *good girl*, like a key turning a lock she didn’t know she had.

“You know what’s funny, Ty?” Chad said, glancing at the sandy-haired one. “This is the girl who was so above it all at the party. Wouldn’t even look at us. Had that whole ‘I’m better than you’ Asian baddie thing going.”

Ty grinned. “Yeah? She looks a lot friendlier now.”

“She does,” Chad agreed. He looked back at Athena. Her eyes were half-lidded, still fixed on the ring. Her expression had softened into something vacant and pleasant. The sharpness was gone. The judgment was gone. There was just… openness. “Athena, you’re going to take us to the back room now. The special service room. You know the one.”

“I know the one,” she repeated. Her voice was different — lighter, airier, like the edge had been filed off it.

“And you’re going to be very, very nice to us. Because that’s what you are now, aren’t you? A nice girl.”

“A nice girl,” she agreed, and the smile widened. It was a ditzy smile. The kind she would have mocked on any other girl. It sat on her face like it belonged there.

Chad pocketed the ring. “Lead the way.”

Athena turned and walked toward the back of the salon, her hips swaying in the leggings without any attempt to modulate the motion. She moved like someone who had forgotten to be self-conscious. The three guys followed, exchanging looks that were equal parts triumph and hunger.

“Wait,” Athena said, pausing at the door to the back room. She looked over her shoulder at Chad. There was a flicker — something behind her eyes, like a fish jumping in still water. “My mom… is she…”

“Your mom’s been enjoying our visits for a while now,” Chad said. “Haven’t you noticed how happy she’s been lately? How relaxed?”

Athena’s brow creased slightly. Her mom *had* been different this break. Glowier. Humming to herself. Staying late at the salon. She’d assumed it was a new skincare routine.

“Mrs. Hoang is a very accommodating woman,” Ty said, leaning against the wall. “Best tipper we’ve ever had. Well — she’s the one getting tipped.” He laughed.

“She loves it,” Chad added. “We’ve been coming in twice a week. She begs for it, actually. Once she’s under, she gets so enthusiastic. You should hear the sounds she makes.”

The flicker in Athena’s eyes intensified. Something tried to surface — a protective instinct, a daughter’s outrage. But the warm honey in her head was thick, and the thought couldn’t fully form. It dissolved before it reached her mouth.

“Mommy’s a whore?” Athena asked. The words came out curious, almost innocent. Like she was asking about the weather.

“Mommy’s our favorite Asian whore,” Chad confirmed. “And now you’re going to be too.”

Athena processed this. The old Athena would have launched herself at him. Would have screamed. Would have called him every name in three languages. But the old Athena was somewhere deep below the surface now, muffled and far away. The Athena standing here felt a pulse of heat between her legs at the word *whore*, and she didn’t understand why, and she didn’t need to.

“Okay,” she said brightly. She opened the door.

The back room was larger than it needed to be for a nail salon — her mom had converted it for the “special service.” There was a massage table, a comfortable padded bench against one wall, and soft lighting. The air smelled like her mom’s perfume — Chanel Chance, the one she’d splurged on — mixed with something muskier.

On the small table by the bench, Athena noticed a stack of cash. Fifties and hundreds. More money than she’d ever seen just sitting out.

“Your mom’s tip jar,” the stocky one — Jacob, she heard one of them call him — said. “She likes to count it after. Says it makes her feel appreciated.”

Athena stared at the money. Then she stared at the three men who were now inside the room with her, the door closing behind them.

“Here’s how this works, Athena,” Chad said, his tone shifting to something more direct. He pulled the ring out again but didn’t activate it — just held it so she could see it. The sight of it made her feel immediately more docile, like a Pavlovian response had already been installed. “The ring gets you started, but it doesn’t make you do anything you don’t want to do on some level. It just… removes the barriers. The things you tell yourself you shouldn’t want. The pride. The attitude. All that stuff that’s in the way.”

He stepped closer to her. Close enough that she could smell him — cologne and something underneath, male and warm. Her nostrils flared.

“So here’s the thing about you Asian girls,” Chad said, reaching out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She didn’t flinch. “You spend so much energy being strong. Being the smart one. The one who doesn’t need anyone. You build these walls up so high. But underneath — and we’ve found this with your mom too — underneath, there’s something that just wants to let go. Wants to be told what to do. Wants to serve.”

Athena felt the words land. Each one. *Serve.* The heat between her legs pulsed again.

“Your mom fought it at first too,” Ty said, moving to her other side. They were boxing her in now, but she didn’t feel threatened. She felt held. “Took about a minute before she was on her knees. Now she drops the second we walk in.”

“Such a good little gook whore,” Jacob added from behind her, and the word — the ugly, racist, unforgivable word — hit Athena’s ear and something inside her cracked. Not broke. Cracked open. Like a fault line releasing pressure. She felt wetness flood her panties and a small, confused sound escaped her throat.

“See?” Chad said, watching her face. “You felt that. That word should make you angry. It used to, right? At the party, if I’d called you that, you would’ve slapped me. But right now? Right now it made your little Asian pussy wet.”

He was right. She could feel it — the slick warmth soaking through the cotton between her legs. Her body was responding to something her mind couldn’t process anymore.

“That’s the thing about raceplay, Athena,” Chad continued, his hand moving to her chin, tilting her face up. “It only works if there’s something underneath the anger. Some part of you that’s always wondered. Always been curious about what it would be like to just… give in. To be the thing they say you are. Not the strong Asian woman. Not the STEM queen. Just a tight little Asian fuckdoll for white cock.”

She whimpered. The sound was pathetic and she knew it was pathetic and she couldn’t stop it.

“On your knees,” Chad said.

Athena sank. Her knees hit the soft carpet and she looked up at him with eyes that were glassy and dark with something that wasn’t just the ring’s influence anymore. Her hands went to her lap, folding neatly. Waiting.

“See, boys?” Chad said, looking down at her. “Told you she was a natural. It’s in the blood. Her mom’s the same way. You get that attitude out of the way and underneath there’s just a needy little Asian slut begging to be colonized.”

Ty and Jacob moved in flanking positions. Ty unbuckled his belt. Jacob was already pulling his shirt over his head. Chad unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock — it was thick and half-hard and he held it in front of Athena’s face, close enough that she could feel the heat of it on her lips.

“Open,” he said.

Athena opened her mouth.

—

Chad’s cock slid past her lips and she tasted salt and skin and the musk of a man who’d been walking around all day. Her tongue moved instinctively, cradling the underside of his shaft as he pushed deeper. He wasn’t gentle about it — he gripped her bun and used it as a handle, tilting her head back to get a better angle, and she let him. She let him control the depth, the pace, everything.

“That’s it,” Chad groaned. “Fuck, her mouth is tight. Tighter than her mom’s, honestly.”

“Let me get in there,” Ty said, stepping up. He’d pulled his cock out too — slightly longer than Chad’s, not as thick. He pressed it against Athena’s cheek, smearing precum across her skin, and the sensation of two cocks against her face made her moan around Chad’s shaft.

Chad pulled out with a wet pop and Ty immediately took his place, sliding into Athena’s open mouth. She tasted the difference — Ty’s cock had a sharper tang, and he was more aggressive, pushing deep enough to hit the back of her throat. She gagged, and the sound was obscene and wet.

“Don’t gag, slut,” Ty said, gripping her jaw. “Swallow it. Your mom takes it all the way down. You want to be better than your mom, don’t you?”

The mention of her mom sent another crack through her. She thought of her mom — beautiful, elegant Mrs. Hoang, who ran this salon with dignity, who’d raised Athena alone, who’d taught her to be proud of who she was — on her knees in this same room, doing this same thing. The image should have been horrifying. Instead it made her pussy clench and she felt more wetness drip out of her.

She relaxed her throat and Ty pushed deeper. The head of his cock slid past her gag reflex and into her throat, and she felt her neck bulge slightly. She breathed through her nose and looked up at him with those glassy, compliant eyes.

“Good girl,” Ty said. “Good little gook. Take it all.”

Jacob had moved behind her. He pulled her to her feet — she whimpered at losing the cock in her mouth, reaching for it — and bent her over the padded bench. He yanked her leggings down over her ass in one rough motion, exposing her. She was wearing a thong — a tiny pink one — and it was soaked through. He pulled it aside and ran his fingers through her slit.

“Fuck, she’s dripping,” Jacob said. “Literally dripping. This little Asian bitch is wetter than any white girl I’ve ever been with.”

“That’s because she knows what she’s for,” Chad said, watching. He was stroking himself slowly. “She’s figured it out. All that attitude, all those feminist talking points, all that ‘I don’t need a man’ energy — and all it took was a ring and three white boys to turn her into a wet little mess.”

Jacob pushed two fingers inside her. Athena’s cunt was tight — genuinely tight, clenching around his fingers like it was trying to keep them — and hot and slick. He curled them and she bucked, crying out.

“Sensitive,” Jacob noted. “And shallow. She’s going to feel every inch.”

He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with the head of his cock. He rubbed it up and down her slit, coating it in her wetness, teasing her entrance. She pushed back, trying to get him inside, and he slapped her ass — hard enough to leave a red handprint on her brown skin.

“Don’t be greedy,” Jacob said. “Beg for it.”

“Please,” Athena whispered. Her voice was wrecked. “Please fuck me.”

“Please fuck me, *what?*”

“Please fuck me, *sir.*”

“Better. But not quite right. What are you?”

The old Athena would have died before answering. The new Athena — the wet, open, compliant Athena — answered without hesitation: “I’m your Asian whore. Please fuck your Asian whore.”

Jacob drove into her.

She screamed. Not in pain — or not only in pain — but in the shock of being filled. He was thick and he went deep in one stroke, and her cunt stretched around him, gripping him like a fist. He held there for a moment, buried to the hilt, and she could feel him pulsing inside her.

“Jesus Christ,” Jacob breathed. “She’s like a fucking vice. Asian pussy is no joke.”

“Tightest I’ve ever had,” Ty agreed. He’d moved to the front of the bench and he pressed his cock against Athena’s lips again. She opened and took him in, getting fucked from both ends now — Jacob pounding her from behind while Ty used her mouth.

Chad watched for a moment, stroking himself, then moved to the side and crouched down next to Athena’s face. He grabbed her chin and turned her head so she was looking at him, Ty’s cock still in her mouth, her cheeks hollowed around it.

“How does it feel?” Chad asked. “Being the thing you said you’d never be? The thing you mocked other girls for being?”

She couldn’t answer with her mouth full, but her eyes told him everything. The glassiness was still there, but underneath it was something rawer — not quite shame, not quite arousal, but a tangled knot of both that was more intense than either.

“You’re getting fucked in your mom’s salon,” Chad continued. “In the room where your mom sucks us off twice a week. You’re bent over the same bench she probably bends over. Your mom’s a whore for white cock and now you are too. That’s not a coincidence, Athena. That’s genetics. It’s what you are.”

Ty pulled out of her mouth and came on her face. The first rope hit her cheek, the second her nose, the third across her lips and chin. She gasped, and the warm cum sat on her skin, and she didn’t wipe it off. She left it there, her tongue darting out to taste what had landed near her mouth.

“Good girl,” Ty said, squeezing the last drops onto her lips. “Lick it up.”

She licked her lips. She swallowed.

Jacob was still fucking her, and his pace was getting more erratic. He gripped her hips and slammed into her, and each thrust made a wet slapping sound that filled the room. Her ass rippled with each impact, the red handprint still visible, and she was moaning continuously now — low, animal sounds that she didn’t recognize as her own voice.

“Going to cum,” Jacob grunted. “Going to cum in this tight Asian cunt.”

“Do it,” Chad said. “Fill her up. She wants it. Tell him you want it, Athena.”

“I want it,” she moaned. “Please cum inside me. Please cum inside my Asian pussy. I need it. I need white cum inside me.”

Jacob buried himself deep and came. She felt him throb, felt the heat of his cum spurting into her, and her own orgasm hit her like a wave — her cunt clenching around him, her body shaking, a high keening sound coming from her throat. She came harder than she’d ever cum in her life, and she came with a white man’s cock inside her and another man’s cum on her face, and somewhere in the warm honey of her controlled mind she understood that this was what she’d always needed and never known.

Jacob pulled out and she felt his cum start to drip down her inner thigh. Her cunt was gaping slightly, flushed and swollen, and she felt empty without him inside her.

Chad stepped up.

“My turn,” he said. He didn’t bend her over the bench. He pulled her up and turned her around, lifting her onto the massage table. He spread her legs and stepped between them, his cock — the thickest of the three — pressing against her entrance. She was slick with her own juice and Jacob’s cum, and he slid in easily despite his girth.

She wrapped her legs around him instinctively, pulling him deeper. Her arms went around his neck. She was looking directly into his face now, and he was looking into hers, and something about the directness of it made it more intense than anything that had come before.

“You’re mine now,” Chad said. Not a question.

“I’m yours,” she said.

“Say it properly.”

“I’m yours. I’m your Asian whore. My pussy belongs to you. I belong to white cock.”

He kissed her. It was the first kiss of the night, and it was deep and claiming, his tongue in her mouth, and she kissed him back with everything she had. He fucked her slowly now — not pounding, but grinding deep, hitting something inside her that made her toes curl and her breath catch.

Ty and Jacob were recovering, watching. Ty was getting hard again already, stroking himself. Jacob was counting out bills from the stack on the table, grinning.

“Your mom charges us a hundred per service,” Jacob said. “What do you think you’re worth?”

Athena, impaled on Chad’s cock, being kissed and fucked and owned, managed to say: “Whatever you want to pay me. I’m whatever you want.”

Chad smiled against her mouth. He picked up his pace, and she felt another orgasm building — deeper this time, slower, more total. She arched her back and took it, and when she came the second time, she came with his name on her lips.

—

Twenty minutes later, Athena was on her knees again, this time with all three of them in front of her. She was sucking them in rotation — Chad, then Ty, then Jacob, then back to Chad — her mouth moving from cock to cock with eager dedication. Her face was a mess of cum and spit, her mascara running, her hair pulled loose from the bun. She looked nothing like the composed, sharp-eyed girl who’d told them to get the fuck out. She looked like exactly what she was: a well-used Asian fuckdoll with a mouth full of white cock.

She was smiling around each one. That ditzy, vacant, pleased smile.

When they were finally spent, Athena sat back on her heels, cum on her face and tits and thighs, her pussy leaking, her hair wrecked, and she looked up at them with an expression of total contentment.

“Same time next week?” she asked brightly.

Chad zipped up. “Same time next week.”

He pulled out the ring and held it up. The stone caught the light again, and Athena’s eyes went soft and distant for just a moment — a reminder, a reinforcement, a deepening.

“You’re going to go talk to your mom now,” Chad said. “You’re going to tell her you understand the special service now. You’re going to tell her you want to help her with it from now on. And you’re going to mean it.”

“I’ll mean it,” Athena said. She stood up on wobbly legs, pulling her leggings up, not bothering to clean the cum off her face. She walked toward the door, then paused and looked back over her shoulder.

“Chad?” she said.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I was mean to you at the party. I didn’t know yet. I didn’t know what I needed.”

She smiled — that ditzy, genuine smile — and went to find her mother.

—

*To be continued…*

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By Anonymous
#Abuse #Interracial