Friday, June 10, 2011

My First Submissive

This true-life story chronicles my first experience meeting a straight white jock who didn't know he was looking for someone to serve.  My first submissive.

I had my start during my first year in college. On the first day of moving into my dorm, I met Whit. A white jock and all-american looking guy. He seemed extremely outgoing and very interested in me. At the time (the early 90's) race relations were getting better and I think a lot of whites felt more confident about approaching Blacks.  We talked about our majors and when he saw the little mini Nerf basketball hoop attached to the door, I suddenly found myself engrossed in a game of dorm room basketball. He had the height and a lot more muscle but I had the skill. At one point, while he was trying to block me, he kept backing his butt up against me to prevent me from having a clear shot.

Now I've been blocked before while playing basketball.  It's just natural that bodies will bump that way.  But never like that.  It seemed almost intentional.  But I said nothing... I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't enjoy it.  The boy had a really nice ass.

Over the course of the first semester, we started hanging out more since we had three classes together.  My Black roommates started joking with me that I had myself a secret admirer.  I knew they were joking but they weren't the only ones to notice how "attached at the hip" Whit was becoming.  I didn't immediately see it as I'd never had a white friend before and was enjoying the attention.

One of our routines was walking to the local 7-11 together.  Whit would find me wherever I was just so that I would walk over with him.   It was a good half mile away and we always walked along the train tracks.  During that time, Whit would open up about his life, goals and concerns.  It was a side of him nobody ever saw but me.  Around others, he was the obnoxious, cocky jock guy nobody liked.  Always obsessed with his body and flexing in public to show everyone he was the top dog.

I'd later realize that it was because of low self-esteem.

This came to a head one day while I was chatting with Whit's roommates who had invited me in for a beer while I waited.  They were very verbal of their dislike for Whit and wondered how I do put up with him.  I knew Whit was a bit of a loose cannon around others he felt threatened by and this situation was no different.

I suppose Whit was listening on the other side of the dorm room door when he burst in and started yelling at his roommates.  I thought things were about to get physical so I made my exit as it had not escaped my notice that Whit's good ol boy roommates were card-carrying members of the NRA.  Nasty tobacco chew spitting and all.

Whit found me later at the library and apologized for his behavior.  He thought he had scared me and rushed into an explanation.  I didn't need one.  I already knew why he flew off the handle like that.

The following semester, Whit and I had only one class together so spent less time as study partners.  At this time, I had met a nice couple, Rob and Amy, in one of my new classes.  They were both competing bodybuilders and we hit it off almost immediately mainly due to my interest in physical fitness and the art of body sculpting.

My new friendship did not go unnoticed by Whit.  He began turning up at our study locations pretending to be on his way somewhere.  I saw him checking out Rob and started almost sneering.  I caught Rob's expression as he seemed confused by Whit's reaction.

Later on, Rob asked me if he'd done anything to upset Whit and I said no jokingly saying that he was jealous of Rob's development.  I knew deep down that I was right.  Whit viewed Rob as a threat to our friendship.

Whit became increasingly overbearing at times to the point where I didn't want to see him one day as I'd had enough.  He spent most of his time in the gym and the rest trying his best to hog every available time I had.

My avoiding him set off something I had not expected.  I came back to my dorm room to pissed off roommates and a hole in our door.  Apparently, Whit put his fist through it when he didn't believe them when they told him they didn't know where I was.

The carnage continued up the hall to his room where the door was completely off its hinges and the room totally destroyed.  His roommates were nowhere to be found.  I was starting to get concerned by this time as I'd never seen Whit get angry.  Jealous, yes.  Annoyingly vain? Yes, but never violent.

I couldn't find him anywhere so decided to go to 7-11 for a slushee (a nightly routine by that time).  Halfway there, from behind, I hear someone running towards me and turn to see Whit.  I actually took a step back as I didn't like the crazed look in his eye.

He saw my expression and immediately stopped running and even backed away a little.  He asked why I didn't come get him to go to the store and then just broke down and cried!  I never knew how important our trips to 7-11 were until that moment.  I didn't know what to do as I'd never seen a man cry outside of a funeral.

I cautiously approached  and put my hand on his shoulder and asked him what was wrong and he looked up and asked if I still liked him.  I said yes.  He then asked if I liked him better than Rob.  I hesitated but then said yes.  I felt he needed to hear that for some reason.  He later confided that he was struggling with feelings he'd never had before... towards me.

He identifies himself as straight as he is only attracted to women but with me it's different.  He finds himself wanting to please me so that I'd look at him like I did when we first met.  I didn't know I looked at him any other way than I already had.  He sought my approval on almost everything.  And found himself insanely jealous of Rob because he had a more muscular build than Whit.  He actually thought that Rob was taking his place as my friend and felt threatened.

He then confided that he had started taking steroids to get bigger quicker.  At least that explained the violent episodes and mood swings.  They had definitely helped him put on more mass in a very short period of time but the cost was too high.

Whit begged me to not toss him aside.  That he needed me but didn't know why and it made him crazy.  He just knew that he needed me and would do anything to keep me in his life.  Just then, I remembered something my grandmother had said to me before she passed away.  Could it be... nahhh.  But maybe?  Hmmm.

To test that possibility,  I asked Whit to meet me in one of the quiet rooms (private windowless study rooms you could reserve for an hour at a time).  Whit looked so defeated that I felt bad for him.  I told him that we couldn't continue being friends.

He lost it.

Whit crumpled to the floor and asked what he had done wrong.  I took a step back and he quickly got back to his feet and begged me to tell him what he did so he could fix it.  He'd change, whatever I wanted.  I knew that I was the only real friend he had at the school and he was fighting hard to keep me.

So I said that there was one thing he could do.

He said anything.  I asked if he was sure.  He said he'd never been more sure in his life.

I told him to kneel in front of me.

It took a moment but he did as he was told.  He was scared and looked very vulnerable.

I asked, are you in love with me?

The expressions that crossed his face made me smile.  It was confusion, surprise, outrage and something else all mixed into one.  I knew he was conflicted and I needed to know his answer before I proceeded.

In a small voice, he said yes.

At this time, I wasn't sure how I felt about that.  I knew I was at least bisexual but had never been with a man sexually and was curious.  So I took the next step.

I told him to kiss my shoes.

He hesitated too long and I turned around to walk out.

I felt his hand encase my wrist and turned and socked him hard in the jaw.  A defensive reflex but it surprised both him and me.  I recovered immediately and told him to never lay his hand on me unless I told him to.  Then commanded him to do as he was told or I walk away for good.

He dropped down and kissed my shoes without hesitation.

Whit helped me experience having my first sub then eventual slave.  He was also my first male sexual experience, and I his.  During the two years we developed our relationship, he told me that he knows that he is straight but with me he can be anything I wanted him to be.  But only me.

By the third year, Whit found out from an ex flame in college that he had gotten her pregnant.  DNA testing was accessible at this time and tests confirmed he was the father.  Whit always wanted kids and wanted to be apart of his child's life.  I allowed him to be.

The problem was that the kid's mother had moved to his home state of Florida.  I lived in Michigan.  He only got to see his kid once every couple of months when the child came up to visit its grandparents.

Whit served me faithfully and never regretted his decision but I knew he wanted more time with his kid.  I gave him permission to travel frequently to Florida whenever I saw depression setting in.

Eventually, I decided to let him go.  He fought tooth and nail to get me to reconsider and even said he'd give up his right to his kid.  I couldn't allow that to happen.  The kid loved its father and I didn't want Whit to cheat the kid out of being its father.

So I eventually came up with the following solution...

  • Reduce service to part-time/seasonal.

  • Allow him to retain his status as my sub/slave (long-distance)

  • Order him to relocate to Florida and focus on his kid.

  • Visit me at least one weekend out of the month.

  • Finish his degree in Sports Medicine.


Whit didn't like relocating as he was worried I wouldn't need him anymore.  He was still highly co-dependent which is natural in the relationship that we were in.  He relied on me for everything.  Advice, direction, stability (outlook on life), friendship, emotional (satisfying his need to serve and make me happy) and physical.

It was hard the first couple months.  There were a few emergency flights from Florida but over time, he settled into his new role... as dedicated father.  Eventually, his service to me became inactive but he retains the right to stay in touch and to be of service if I ever needed him for anything.

He's happy with the arrangement as he knows its my will.  And that's all that really matters in the end.

Years later we still keep in touch.  He graduated and now works for one of the major Universities in Florida utilizing his Sports Medicine degree.  I'm "Uncle" to his kid and he's now married (yes, I allowed that).  As I said, he was true to his word that he would never be with another man after serving me.  His new wife is also a submissive so they have that in common.  They are happy together and that makes me happy.

It also makes me happy knowing that Whit would be at my side at the drop of a hat if I wanted him to.  After all this time, I am still his number one priority by his own admission.  Although, he knows I prefer that he focus on his family.

I am fortunate that my first foray into the Lifestyle went so well.  It was unexpected and that's what makes it significant.  Neither one of us had any formal Lifestyle training but we still instinctively knew our "roles".

I strongly believe that the key to a successful Lifestyle relationship is possessing a natural tendency towards identifying who you really are.  Whether that is Dominant or submissive.  It is something you just can't force... it has to happen naturally on its own.

When it "feels right",  you'll know.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

The Beginning | Who I Am

I have been active in this Lifestyle since I was 19 years old.  My grandmother actually introduced it to me inadvertently as a child by observing her "life coaching" skills on a neighbor.  Call it "white guilt" or what not but I always wondered why the neighbor labored for my grandmother when he had his own farm but always showed up faithfully to help my grandmother with odd jobs she needed down around her property.

He seemed happy to do it which I found very strange as she resided in what many call the most racist state in the United States,  Mississippi.  From my understanding, no white man would be caught dead doing anything that even resembled working (or helping) for a black man or woman.  When I asked her about it, she only told me that they had been "friends" for a very long time and he "knew his place".  When I asked if she paid him anything and she looked at me funny and exclaimed "hell nah!".

I still didn't fully understand her relationship with the white man but I got used to him being around whenever we visited over summer break.  He even offered to wash my parents car during a visit.  It wasn't until he died, when I was 14, that I started to learn more about their odd arrangement.  I happened to walk up the road to her mailbox, to retrieve any mail, and three white kids around my age approached me on my way back to the house.  I had never noticed them before and was weary until the oldest who looked to be in his early 20's introduced himself and his younger siblings.  They were all pleasant and asked if I was related to grandmother.  When I answered yes,  they looked at each other, quickly got on one knee and bowed!

"Uhm... what are you doing?!"  I exclaimed and took a step back.

"We humbly show respect for Nana and the Master"  They all said in unison as they stood up.

I know now that they thought I was my grandmother's son.  Although what was just said shocked the hell out of me,  I took the opportunity to ask questions everyone seemed reluctant to answer and what I found out was shocking.  The Calloways have been serving members of my grandmother's side of the family since slavery times (the early 1800's).  They even taught future generations to serve as well.  Understandably, I was a bit uncomfortable with this information so allowed them to follow me back to the house to introduce to my grandmother.  When I explained what happened at the mailbox, she looked them over.

"Are you Calloway's kids?"  She asked in a stern voice I rarely hear her use.

"Yes Ma'am!  Our dad left the house to us so we were down cleaning up and saw your son at the mailbox.  We only wanted to show respect.  Did we do something wrong?"  asked the oldest who seemed rather nervous.  Almost like he was scared of her.

"No child.  You did right.  I'm sorry to hear about your father.  He was a good man.  Since you are here, there are some things I want to discuss with you all.  Follow me."  She said and started walking towards the woods behind the house.

I had started to follow as well when she turned around and told me to stay at the house.  I was disappointed as I really wanted to know what was going on.  They came back about an hour later with full smiles and a hearty wave at me as they walked back home.

"Nana?  What was that all about?"  I asked as I followed her back into the house.

"Nothing you should concern yourself with just yet.  They just needed direction, which I gave to them.  You remember Mr. Calloway?"  She asked while putting the kettle on.

I nodded.

"He had a debt to pay to our family and his children just wanted to know what they could do to help pay it off.  And I told them."  She explained.

"So why did they..."  I started to ask but grandmother put up her hand to cut me off.

"Don't concern yourself with that right now.  All will reveal itself in time."  She said with a smile and a kiss to my forehead.  I knew the conversation was finished whenever she did that but I still was curious.  And no one else seemed to want to talk about it.

My grandmother still didn't open up much about her lifestyle until after my father died, shortly before I graduated high school.  In her lifestyle, I became the head of household as the oldest male so thus it was time for me to step up to the role fully.  She told me the name of her lifestyle was called Obeah or some variation of it specific to her family and the network of other African-American families that are involved across the southern United States and other countries.

I decided to go to college and seek my own way but promised to give what was offered great consideration.  I was never pressured to do anything against my will including what I believe.  I was very fortunate to grow up in an environment that promoted self-learning.  Nothing was ever forced upon me but presented in a way that allowed me to come to my own conclusions... including my grandmothers lifestyle choices.

I still know very little about Obeah but incorporate what I do know into an updated version that works very well for me and those who feel drawn to my philosophies.

This isn't the whole story, obviously... but its a start.  The rest reveals itself in time.

I have never been an easy person to get to know.

Friday, April 22, 2011

The Black Sovereign Initiative

The Black Sovereign Initiative is a concept that was developed by myself and other self-identified Dominants whom shared the same philosophy on how to create a harmonious relationship between those who identify with being Dominant or submissive.  There is plenty of documentation on the Net that focuses on the fetish aspect of the Lifestyle but nothing that focused on the reality and work that goes into creating a relationship based on consensual power exchange.

For Us, it is not enough to want to serve or even to be served.  It is more important to know  exactly what you want before you get involved.  I have seen lives ruined because of a misguided goal that was over before it even began.  The truth of the matter is that most people just do not know how to incorporate the Lifestyle into their every day reality.  Just like the quote at the top of this page... we all live in the sun-lit world of reality but the trick is recognizing and navigating the dark side and finding a way to successfully merge the two.

My vision for the Black Sovereign Initiative stems from incorporating elements designed to bring "balance" to the lives of individuals who prefer to live them as either Dominants or submissives. While most of society would look down on these terms as controversial, I feel that the Lifestyle simply needs to be better defined.  Misunderstandings can be better avoided if one has a better view of what it stands for.  I'm hoping to use this site to bring about that understanding.  To put a face on a Lifestyle that has been around longer than most realize.

Feel free to comment on any topic posted on this site that interests you.  I only require that respect is given at all times.

 

ABOUT BLACK SOVEREIGN

My name can mean any number of things. Yes, I am Black. But I am also in control. Being a sovereign is a state of mind. You are in constant awareness of your own emotional state and those around you.

Human emotions are like jigsaw puzzle pieces. Put them together correctly and the matter at hand is solved. That's how I live my life... an ever evolving landscape of puzzles that have all their pieces, just requires a steady hand to solve.

Being a Dominant (or submissive) isn't just a state of mind, it is a state of being. It is something that cannot be taught. Just like being gay, you are born with it.

Some can be taught to tap into their own being. But it is preferred that one puts in the work on their own to come to that realization. Understanding yourself and what you need is the biggest challenge anyone will ever have to face in their lifetime.

Black Sovereign represents who I am as a Man. I am a confident black man who has always known exactly who he is... even if I didn't fully understand what that was. I am Sovereign over myself and everything around me. The most important part of that identity being absolute confidence in my ability to run my own life. You can't expect to be followed if your own life is a mess.

My life is not exactly an open book... but for those who wish to know more about me, I will offer a glimpse into my journey in this Lifestyle.

 

 

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