Hello,
Those of you who read profiles already know that I am a married white mother, a reasonably newly discovered submissive, with an equally newly discovered need for interracial fantasy and experience. I am one of those annoying people who can't just have a feeling, they have to think about it, and try to figure out why it works, and what it could promise about other discoveries.
I am a married white professional woman. I am a mother, a university graduate, and feminist. I worked hard over twenty years to earn my place in a world where the rules were written by and for white men. I had the choices to be frigid or slut, if slut I was welcome to be used sexually, but never accepted as mother, respected as partner, or ever allowed to amount to anything resembling a financial success.
Like many women, I did what I had to do, and sacrificed the part of myself I had only begun to discover, so that I could succeed in a game whose rules were very much limiting to my gender. To win, you had to be less feminine. To be taken seriously, you had to abandon being sensual. Men could be sexual and be rewarded, but women could not.
Enter black men. The rules are as much against them as women, actually probably more so. They are either thugs or poor imitations of the real white men who run things. Like women, they are offered two choices, two chances to be a parody of themselves, half who they should be, if they want to compete in a game whose rules they, like my own gender, never had a say in drawing up.
Now let a black man look at a white woman, and some very amazing things happen. First, the taboo. The forbidden fruit. White women have been forbidden to transgress against their race, while white men have been free to fuck every woman on the planet, and largely did. We guarded the bloodlines, our purity enforced. Black men were forbidden to look or touch white women. We were warned of their sexual power, their "animal nature" at the same time we were held up as the ultimate prize.
Fast forward to frigid old me, under the eyes of a black man, and feeling my body powerfully respond. I am an animal too, all humans are animals who think. We are body mind and spirit, and white women have been forced to give up their animal sensuality or be a whore. I feel his eyes upon me and I do not feel my armour come up, my coldness automatically deflect him as a threat to my power and status in my professional life or social set. He is not a white man, not the giver and taker of place in society. Not the maker of rules in a game we all have no choice to play.
A black man looks at me and my body responds as a woman. A black man with confidence and powerful sexuality finds my animal nature responding with equal passion, if not greater. I am a pressure cooker, built up over years, forced to starve my hungers, deny my lust, until the well inside is more than I can hope to control. I am forbidden my chains of propriety and dignity from ever admitting what I actually enjoy in bed, or experimenting in cool things that other people seem to enjoy. Ah, but a strong black man (or woman, honestly) can use my submissive sexuality to free me from shame, by taking control.
No I am not saying to black people come white people. That is sick, and wrong, and paints black men as abusive, when the reality is that there are abusive men in every walk of life, and no race or class is any better. What I am saying is that their comfort with their sexuality and the need to take the "prize" of the white woman they were denied for generations, couples with the animal need of white women to explore their own primal sexuality with a group that they had been warned were pretty much walking embodiments of primal sexuality.
I found the need to be collared and leashed by a black man to be freed from the mental chains that white men put on my sexuality. I do not submit to black men and women out of shame of being white, I submit to them because only through that submission can they restore to me the female sexuality that white men made me set aside if I wished to enjoy any status or success in their world.
I do not beg for the collar because I wish to give up my life and quit the life I worked for decades to build. I beg to be collared and controlled so I may be free at last to explore my sexuality, to become whole and sane, balanced and calm. Both sexual and successful, to be proud of my accomplishments, proud of what I have done rather than simply who I come from.
I want to be sexually submissive to black men because they awaken the white woman in me that had almost starved to death in a white man's world that neither my saviours, nor myself were welcomed in willingly. Red hair, blue eyes, milk white skin ( and 48DD that seem really popular) are what I have to offer, what I have been offered in return is not just Big Black Cock (although, wow). I have been offered myself back. So yes, I will kneel and say thank you when we are done. I have been given that which I thought lost forever.
Lurker
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