Internet Image find from Black BDSM Facebook post
I recently had the opportunity to co-top an incredible young
woman and her partner, both close friends of mine. It was a truly special
experience, and it sparked a lot of reflection on the significance of race
within the kink community.
As I considered what made this scene so impactful, I
realized that throughout my years in kink, my interactions with POC players
have been limited. Most of my play partners, including my current partner, have
been white—not by choice, but simply due to availability and circumstances.
This lack of representation in my play experiences often left me feeling
disconnected from my own cultural identity.
However, over the past couple of years, this dynamic has
begun to shift. I met the couple I played with through a relatively new munch
group for POC players in my area. For the first time, I was engaged in a scene
with individuals who not only looked like me but also shared a cultural
understanding of our experiences. This added layer of connection transformed
the scene, allowing us to engage in a way that felt instinctive and deeply
resonant.
We initially gathered at a local event with no intention of
playing—just to connect and socialize. But when an impromptu invitation to play
arose, I couldn't resist! I had previously played with the young woman and had
even demonstrated sensual impact play with her. However, I hadn't seen her
partner play before. Knowing him as an experienced player gave me confidence in
our compatibility.
What struck me during this scene was how our cultural
backgrounds informed our interactions. The rhythm we found in our play was not
only about physical movements; it was an expression of our shared experiences
as POC in a predominantly white space. We synced to my playlist—carefully
curated to reflect our sensibilities—creating an atmosphere that felt intimate
and affirming. Music is crucial for me during play; it’s the heartbeat of the
experience. I often find the standard dungeon music too jarring, but here, the
soundscape matched our sensual energy perfectly.
In my local kink community, there are respected educators
and demonstrators of color who contribute significantly to the dialogue around
kink practices. While I’ve had the privilege of teaching numerous classes and
demos myself, I’ve always felt that our unique perspectives as POC players are
often overlooked. Observers frequently comment on how our play carries a
different intentionality—there’s a depth and richness that seems to resonate
more profoundly. I wholeheartedly agree; our cultural experiences shape the way
we engage with one another.
What many people don’t realize is that our backgrounds
inform everything we do, including how we express desire and pleasure. When I
first began playing publicly, I was acutely aware of the predominantly white,
cisgender norms that dominated the scene. This awareness made me cautious,
leading me to over-negotiate and tread lightly, knowing that my actions were
scrutinized. It took years for me to embrace my authentic self and let go of
that fear.
As I began to explore my energy in play more freely, I
discovered a deeper connection to my own sensuality. The more I leaned into my
individuality, the more open and genuine my interactions became. I remember a
comment from someone who observed my impact play—though it was less flashy than
others, it held a unique beauty that resonated with them. This feedback
affirmed that my approach was valid and meaningful, even if it didn’t conform
to mainstream expectations.
Attending classes from both white and POC educators
illuminated the nuanced differences in our approaches. The richness of our
varied experiences became apparent, particularly once you moved beyond the
basics. It highlighted the importance of representation and the need for
diverse perspectives in kink education.
Yet, despite these gains, I often felt the weight of
potential misinterpretation. What I saw as play could easily be misread by
those adhering to prevailing societal norms. Nonetheless, as I was invited to
teach and demonstrate, it became evident that the contributions of POC players
should be celebrated and integrated into the broader community. And there is fact that the contibutions POC Players have made to the Kink Community, perticularly Leather, go under recognized and under appreciated.
We play in every rhelm, Rope, Edge Play, Flogging, Impact Play, no area goes untuched and it is distinctive and intoxicating.
The differences in our play are profound. I approach each
scene with an understanding that is uniquely mine, guided by cultural
experiences and spiritual beliefs. I often choose my implements and techniques
based on how they resonate with my desires, embodying a rhythm that is
distinctly reflective of my identity.
I recognize the ways in which my play is perceived—there's
an inherent difference in how I interact with my partners compared to others.
It’s not about being better; it’s simply about being different. Unfortunately,
I’ve also faced ignorance and intolerance, but I choose to navigate those
challenges head-on.
Ultimately, playing while Black is a deeply enriching
experience—it's beautiful, connective, and fulfilling. Yet it comes with the
constant awareness of being observed, sometimes critically, but often
positively.
Co-topping with my friends solidified my understanding of
how race informs our play. We weren’t just in sync; we shared an inner space
that transcended the conventional teachings of the community. It was an organic
connection, steeped in culture, that required no explanation or justification.
And yes, it was profoundly different—an affirmation of our
identities and the beauty we bring to the kink lifestyle.
Image from Black Kink Matters
Comments