A few years ago I was involved with a rather lovely African woman. If you’ve read my various posts over the years, you’ll know ours was a quite intense relationship at times and one that, frankly, saw my race being used “against” me as a source of humiliation in her particular style of domination. It was a thrilling and rewarding part of our dynamic, one that we became incredibly comfortable with, even though I’m sure my fellow liberals would have done their proverbial nut if they’d found out about it.
After we parted company, perhaps a touch of rebound here, I had an African woman submit to me. Racial play was a part of this dynamic too.
Both of these relationships have had a bit of an effect on me. I became fascinated with the whole concept of “race play” and how the themes of racism could be subverted and exploited as part of a wider humiliation dynamic. If I’m totally honest I still find the fantasy of being racially humiliated a thrilling one, although that may just be me triggering past memories.
I’ve tapped into these racial dynamics in my erotica from time to time. I find them challenging because I tend to be sympathetic towards my characters and their situations, which can be difficult when there’s a full-on racial slur slanging match going on. Clearly I tend to write from the white male perspective, although a couple of less than successful attempts at the black female POV have been tried; at which point I discovered the limit of my already dubious talent. Sometimes my protagonist is on the receiving end, sometimes dishing it out.
Recently I started publishing ebooks on Amazon, as much out of curiosity than anything. I’ve not set the world on fire, but when I posted my first race play themed short story something interesting happened. In the first fortnight of publication I sold more copies than my other five stories combined. Where they have quite distinctive sales curves that peter out, “Training her White Slave” has continued to bubble along. I won’t be retiring any time soon, but it has been interesting to watch.
More interesting is that someone reached out to me via my website to offer thanks for writing it. That’s a first for me.
And herein lies the conundrum.
Racism is something I abhor. Seriously. I barely speak to my parents because of their attitudes.
Race play is an unfulfilled niche I may have tapped into. Perhaps, like me, there are thousands of snowflake liberals of every persuasion who are desperate to bury their head in a book where throwing around the insults is exciting because they can’t or won’t do it in real life.
(Alternatively some people might have missed the point and are reading it as a manual for how to get pasty white men to do shit for them!)
So my challenge to myself, and perhaps the reason I’ve meandered down this barely coherent keyboard pathway, is whether I want to tap into this potential vein of readers with more tales of derring-do (and boy, do I have some tales to tell). On the one hand I enjoy writing the subject, on the other I risk being labeled “racist” with my chosen topic. And yes, I know the grown-ups in the BDSM world understand it’s all fantasy, but I keep imagining myself being interviewed by Robert Peston and having a Daily Mail headline scream at me.
There you go. My race play genie is out of the proverbial bottle and it’s now for me to decide whether to continue chasing it, or simply let it slide on by.
Tagged: Race Play
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