Is Playing Interracially Race Play?

 

As defined by [Kinkly](https://blog.kinkly.com/definition/race-play/), race play is BDSM that involves role-play with racial imagery. It typically involves interracial partners, though anyone can participate. It’s a type of advanced psychological play. Or as I like to say when asked to do so: *“Please miss me with that shit.”*

I pose this as a question because I think there are fine lines and 1,000-foot chasms to consider. For me, it ties into why I had such a visceral response to the BDSM world. The terminology, the culture, and the practice all felt too aligned with the history of slavery.

The concept of race play was always a hard no for me—even in my "vanilla" life, before I found the world of BDSM and kink. Growing up in the ‘60s and ‘70s during the sexual revolution, this was an interesting thing to navigate.

My introduction to white women wanting to play out a stereotypical Mandingo, *Sweet Sweetback* dynamic happened in college. It was the first time a white woman asked me to call her my slut, my bitch... and the first time I heard “Nigger” come out while I was, well, putting in work (or at least my 18-year-old version of it). My response? *Oh, hell no!* It didn’t feel right, didn’t sound right—didn’t sit right. Role-playing? Sure, I’m down. But not that road.

In the scene, this is a tightrope walk. We’re steeped in the language of slavery, and racial stereotypes are everywhere. But if you’re playing with someone of a different race, how separate can it really be? Can there truly be space there?

The imagery doesn’t go away, and when you add in honorifics, it can get blurry. I’ve never defined myself as a Master or even a Dominant, and I’ve generally avoided play partners who want to be called a Slave.

I’m not laying down any absolutes here—just my thoughts and observations. Most of my play partners have been white, Asian, or Latina, and it’s only recently that I’ve had consistent opportunities to play with Black women. But that’s a topic for another post.

I have specific criteria when choosing play partners. If a woman tells me she only dates or plays with Black men, that’s a red flag—mainly because they can never really explain why. It usually comes down to some kind of “contrast.” Don’t ask me to call you “my white bitch,” and don’t ask if you can call me your Mandingo, Black stud, or anything like that. Now, it does get complicated, because I love dirty talk, and good dirty talk always has a personal twist. I’ve gotten creative in navigating this.

But some things just can’t be ignored. In my local kink community, interracial couples playing together are more common than same-race couples. I’ve always been aware that sometimes I might be an “exotic” choice, and that some women who played with me did so because of the racial element. As long as they didn’t make it obvious, I let things ride. But in hindsight, I was probably engaging in race play—at least on a micro level. Sometimes, you’ve just gotta call a thing a thing.

I’ve seen race play scenes that made me uncomfortable because of the language. The actions themselves didn’t hit me as hard, but when the words crossed my personal boundaries, the walls went up. Take the language out, and I can watch a scene between a white man and a Black woman and appreciate the beauty of a connected scene. But once the language breaks my personal barriers? It’s game over.

Sure, it’s consensual, and in most cases, it is. But in public spaces, others don’t always have the opportunity to consent to what they witness. Some spaces require scenes that might breach sensitivities to be announced, and some activities—like Nazi-related scenes—are outright banned and shamed. But you know what rarely gets addressed? Race play involving white and Black players.

I’ve been lucky enough to play with women who see me as a whole person, who are sensitive to issues around race, and who are comfortable discussing their own boundaries.

The term "colorblind" often comes up around these conversations, just like it does in the vanilla world. I’ve always hated that term. It oversimplifies a complex reality. I was raised to acknowledge that race impacts everything. Ignoring it isn’t being kind—it’s being dishonest. If you don’t see my color, you’re not really seeing *me*. That’s diminishing.

 

So, the question for me remains: *Is interracial play actually race play?*

BTW, this blog isn’t meant to be a literary masterpiece or a lecture. It’s just a Black guy sharing what’s on his mind. That being said, all comments are welcome—supportive or otherwise.