Interracial Relationships in the BDSM Lifestyle

Syndicated

A few weeks ago, I read a conversation on Twitter discussing interracial relationships, namely those between White men and Black women. The main issue was related to the latter group being seen as a fetish by the former. It immediately piqued my interest-- my very first relationship ever was with a White man. While I did not engage much in said conversation, I found myself revisiting what had transpired within that affair.

Although my ex (let’s call Him B) wasn’t my first, our relationship placed me on a path that has determined my desires and needs for all lovers and boyfriends who have followed Him. It was He who introduced me to BDSM and allowed me to express myself as a "submissive". Although I was quite young when I met Him, I had always felt unfulfilled sexually and emotionally in my previous engagements with men. I wanted to express and experience complete freedom sexually and emotionally.

I did not know the word or names for what it was I yearned for, but I craved for the opportunity to be in a space that provided the intimacy and protection to be uninhibited with my passions. I am certain I sounded like something out of a Flintstones cartoon when I attempted to explain to a previous boyfriend what I was craving. At one point, he blatantly asked me if I was “out of my mind.” Feeling humiliated, I tucked away these sensations and ideas. The last thing I needed was for men to think that I was mentally unsound.

 

Forever Rose
Image: Danny Haskew via Flickr

This all changed when I met B. Our friendship quickly developed into something deeper, and it felt astoundingly different from anything I had previously experienced. He nurtured my sensitive side and did not blink twice the first time I sat at His feet and attempted to serve Him. Being that He was my first Dominant, He took the time to instruct me on "The Life", and how to be a proper submissive. I was in awe of Him and of our life together. I could not believe that there was someone out there who understood me and knew exactly what I was feeling. I could be who I wanted to be with Him. It was as if He broke a dam inside of me and allowed feelings I did not even know I harbored to flow freely. I was happy.

The interesting thing about being in "The Life" is you never know who is in it with you. Your Pastor could be a Dom. Your best friend could be a sub. Being such a sub-culture, many in the BDSM lifestyle hide this side of themselves for a multitude of reasons. It wasn’t until I joined that I started dissecting how people spoke and carried themselves. Soon, I was able to correctly guess which of my friends --- and family members! -- were in "The Life". I immediately gravitated towards them, feeling a new kinship and bond. One of these individuals was friend from college, a Dom, who actually had quite a few number of subs serving Him at the time. He was excited (I’m sure for a number of reasons *wink wink*) that I had joined "The Life". He wanted to know who was this man that had done this to me. I pulled up Facebook and showed Him. He sat back in his chair and grimaced.

“Val are you serious?”
“Yes, He’s a bit older. But what? What are you trying to say?”
“He’s...White.”
“Yeah? So!”
“Girl, you sure this is not an antebellum slave master thing for this dude?

My face dropped. I slammed my laptop closed, and attempted to process His words. I never thought of it that way. B was my Sir. My Daddy Dom. Not my Master. B and I never used the words “master” and “slave” in our relationship. It did not exist in our dynamic. I did my best to explain this to my friend, but He would not hear it. He told me my inexperience made me naive to these things. He kept referring back to “race play” and I kept shooting back that He was wrong. But was He? I had no idea what race play was. I felt doubt creep into my mind and I went home assessing everything that was said. I did not want to think that this joy I was experiencing for the past few months was merely someone’s fetish.

The next time I saw B, I immediately brought the conversation up. He stayed silent as I went from questions to accusations back to questions. I was confused and scared. He walked over to his laptop and carried it over to where I was sitting. He typed in some words in a search engine and soon images of race play on websites were popping up. He asked me calmly “Have I ever done this with you? Have I ever said that to you?” All my answers were "No". We did not engage in anything close to what I was seeing and reading. My fears slowly evaporated, but I was still confused. I did not know a whole other layer to our lifestyle existed.

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