The Lost Unicorn

PREVIOUSLY FROM THE BLACK ONYX: Meet The Black Onyx

When I entered the BDSM community a few years ago I entered as a “kinkster”. I came from a very sheltered background so the idea of being controlled or controlling another didnt appeal to me. Sadists and Masochists were two dynamics I wanted absolutely nothing to do with. I didn’t understand the concept of having an appeal to inflict or receive pain, therefore, I didn’t want to understand nor did I want to know the people who engaged in such acts. Pain was something you run from not to and the mere idea was crazy to me. Besides, life in general was painful enough. I sought people of color to indulge my personal turn ons and hoped I would find Poly people as well. I was a Unicorn after all, and needed to find my Prince and Princess. But what I did not know was that it would be extremely difficult to do because I did not have a title (role) in a community that thrived on roles and titles.

I met the Doms who wanted to control me. No. I met the sadists who wanted to hurt me. No. I met the masochists who wanted me to mutilate them. No. I met the subservient females who under the orders of their Doms – were to persue me only to add to the litter of women the Dom was trying to expand to flatter his own ego. No. I was reading in groups about the accidents bestowed upon subs and slaves who trusted the wrong or inexperienced D. I read stories of the middle aged man who was bankrupted by the golddigging Mistress and then abandoned by her without a thought for his future. There were members from all walks of life, every profession and class and education level…and a large mass of individuals with mental issues from post partum to bi polar, from agoraphobics to post traumatic stress. Orientations who shunned others, frauds and scammers on the prowl for the next victim to attack, and at the end of it all there it was. That entity that seemed to always lurk around every corner. That existence that seem to follow mankind no matter where man goes or no matter what man does. It is spelled R-A-S-I-S-M.

After a year and half of arguing in groups, running into vultures, the failed kinky relationships that never surpassed a couple of months, and the madness of inbox messages asking that I carve someone or mail my soiled and bloody panties for a return fee – I’d had enough. MANY people didn’t like my controversial disposition and straight forward attitude toward life. I said what was on my mind and got alot of negative feedback not that I gave a damn. It was seemingly the same on the site that it was in everyday vanilla life. I wasn’t SUPPOSED to challenge racism and sweep it under the carpet. I wasn’t SUPPOSED to speak my mind to a man for his dick warranted his superiority and demanded my silence. I wasn’t SUPPOSED to ponder the mind of the deviant and was supposed to shut the fuck up and take or be taken, or linger somewhere in between (switch). But NEVER was I supposed to try and make sense of it all.

Enough was enough. I announced on my profile that I was leaving the site and the lifestyle. Anyone who I had befriended that wanted to stay in contact was directed to leave an email address in my inbox. I was giving the profile 30 days before I would shut it down. I logged out and didn’t re-enter for 20 days. When I did check my messages what I found was so magnificent, so shocking and overwhelming – that it would set the stage for what I did not know was coming next: the events that would completely reshape who I had been and what I would come to be.

NEXT IN THE SERIES BY THE BLACK ONYX: I Am Not A Female Hitler

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