Historically, Black women have been hypersexualized and illustrated as aggressively sexual. Black feminists have worked to humanize Black women by pulling away from these harmful narratives. In an essay titled Selling Hot Pussy, bell hooks ties contemporary media depictions of Black women to the dismembering of flesh from identity that occurred during slavery. Black women are seldom seen as full human beings but rather exist to be mutilated by the white gaze into body parts and corporeal objects for sexual use. 

This narrative has subsisted and continues to exist in a world that not only hypersexualizes Black women, but also moves to shame them for their sexual choices. Discourse around sex and pleasure remain entirely taboo, particularly when it pertains to Black women who are viewed, in the traditional sense, to be conduits for human life. This leaves minimal space for women to express sexual desire or to practice sex positivity. Sex educator, Rukiat, examines the hypersexualization of women in Cosmopolitan, saying: “I would describe the hypersexualisation of Black women as the ‘jezebel’ stereotype, [which is] this idea that Black women are insatiable when it comes to sex,” she says. “We have this sexual desire that is unquenched and an animalistic approach to sex.” A parallel narrative exists which functions, in a patriarchal sense, to desexualize Black women. “The desexualisation of Black women is like the ‘mammy’ stereotype. Usually, [portrayed] as a Black woman who is overweight and dark skinned, and her existence is literally just to serve others,” Rukiat says. “In serving others, she's not sexually desirable or portrayed as attractive.” 

The Tension Between Feminism and BDSM

The complexities become even more pervasive when kink and bondage become part of the conversation. These complexities arise even when considering the opinions of older feminists who are unable to divorce BDSM from scenes of Black subjugation, mostly due to the use of bondage and whipping. Kink in Black feminist spaces is a contentious subject with some viewing kink as unbridgeable to feminist ethic. Audre Lorde in Against Sadomasochism: A Radical Feminist Analysis, described BDSM as “an institutionalized celebration of dominant/ suboridante relationships.” Lorde adds further that “ [BDSM] prepares us to either accept subordination or dominance. Even in play, to affirm that the exertion of power over powerlessness is erotic, is empowering, is to set the emotional and social stage for the continuation of that relationship, politically, socially and economically.” 

However, there’s been a new imagining of kink as a form of agency for Black women and queers across the world, and particularly in South Africa. Ariane Cruz in Beyond Black and Blue: BDSM, Internet Pornography, and Black Female Sexuality explores BDSM as “a critical site from which to reimagine the formative links between Black female sexuality and violence.” This position on kink centres consent and pleasure as an act of reclamation of agency. 

Practicing Kink in South Africa

Speaking with Mamello Sejake, a Black queer femme person who practices kink, they expressed their experience with breaking from the margins when it comes to finding spaces which are safe and welcoming to Black people who practice kinks. They debunk the myth that kink predominantly centers sex and a ‘freaky narrative” while erasing the place of pleasure, safe play and consent. “I think that kink is absolutely still a taboo but I have been really fortunate to not express kink shaming. I am passionate about changing conversations about how we speak about sex and I think what is missing is that we don’t centre pleasure.” Sejake critiques the fact that feminism does not hold space for women and queer folk who want to explore pleasure centred sex particularly within the ambit of kink. 

In a reflection which challenges ideas of kink being solely about whipping and inducing pain, Sejake instead refers to kink as a gentle practice. As an academic who intends to alter the discourse around kink, they have experienced violence within the academic space, which seeks to trivialize kink and bind the practice inextricably to violent play. “Kink has given me the confidence to name what I want, and it has taught me to create and set boundaries. This is something that I was historically bad at. I would extend myself beyond what I could, which was bad for mental health. But kink has been a form of therapy and healing that I didn't know existed.” Sejake mentions that rope play and bondage as elements of kink that not only serve a purpose for sexual pleasure, but also recreate feelings of being held. “With rope play, I feel held and put together. The art form of tying rope named Kinbaku is intentional and makes me feel seen because it’s a practice that requires tenderness and care. That makes me feel vulnerable and cared for.” 

The existence of BDSM at the intersection of various identities, has been a source of tension for Black feminists. Anti-BDSM and kink shaming still holds dominance in feminist spaces. Narratives centre sex and sexual deviance, while alternative reasons for practicing, such as healing and community also exist. Although the kink scene cannot holistically be expunged of negative intentions such as harmful race play, many within the Black kink community in South Africa have chosen to focus on reclaiming its playfulness, pleasure and acceptance.