Consent and Coercion

Pen and ink by Creature Karin Webb

In this era of #MeToo it’s hard not to talk about consent, negotiation, and coercive behaviors as we address the idea of a healthy sexuality and what sexual behaviors we’d like to cultivate moving forward. Alongside these discussions it’s natural to wonder, recount, or perhaps even worry whether you yourself have leaned on past lovers in ways which felt sexually coercive. Chances are the vast majority of us (especially of a certain age) have at some point along our sexual journey engaged in sexual negotiation using conscious or unconscious forms of coercion to get what we wanted.

For many women (cis, trans, NB) and others it may feel as though our entire experience of sexuality has existed within the confines of coercion as a present or expected element effecting our negotiations and exploration. Certainly it’s easy to feel this way even in non-sexual spaces daily—constant judgment and commenting from people who profit off the male gaze, a society rife with patriarchally-fueled marginalization which undermines livelihood for many, and a persistent pressure from the media to mirror inauthentic standards of behavior, dress, and presentation in exchange for safety (physical autonomy, social mobility, and provision of basic needs). In situations where males, men, more privileged people, hierarchical partnerships, or D/s dynamics are present in the negotiation room, these stressors are naturally present, even if below the conscious surface.

There are too many sexual assault and abuse survivors in our world, and the consequences of this treatment can be deeply rooted in one’s mind, emotions, and body. Sexual negotiation is not a thing everyone has equal access to as a direct or easy conversation. After experiencing sexuality through the lens of a coercion (especially consistently or violently), it can be hard to approach negotiation outside the confines of expecting coercion: survival mode. There are many people who want to process their histories of coercion (received or acted on) in order to move beyond, to heal, and to enjoy power imbalances safely and consensually. How do people regain control of their narratives and come together in healthy ways?

Consider that being a pushover plays into unhealthy exchange, and can be coercive in its own sense. We must take responsibility for the things we want, what we enjoy, what we desire, and our boundaries. Even if it’s hard to articulate these things (it often is), it’s important to rise to the occasion for yourself and also for the health of your partners. For example: if I desire to be treated primally without overt consent in a sexual situation; if I desire to have my boundaries challenged as a way to enjoy or access sex in ways I feel unable to access it outside of those parameters; if I desire (for example) breeding or the threat of breeding in my scene—I must do the work to get over my shame and other repressive blocks (including trauma) concerning these desires, and I must ask for them as I want them to be done. Otherwise I risk feeding into and helping maintain dangerous community standards which play into ideas like “boys will be boys”, “she was dressed like she wanted it”, and “they didn’t say “no””. A silent push to trigger a partner’s aggression or instigate boundary pushing can certainly perpetuate unhealthy communication and risky behaviors in both myself and my partners.

Is it the sole responsibility of the person who desires coercion to speak up? No. As the bottom in that scene I may have a hard time saying, “I want you to tie me down and fuck me like an animal”, however it’s of utmost importance that the top in this dynamic is able to say, “I really want to ravage you right now, and I feel like you want that too, but I need to make sure you’re into it and that you’ll let me know when you’re overwhelmed or I’m getting near your limits” and, “I really want to come inside you but I need express permission to do that first”, or any other number of questions which acknowledge the edgy play at hand and the potential consequences of pushing forward without acknowledgement and agreement. With these words one must also be able to receive the answer vocally while also reading body language and any energetic reactions given in reply. It’s not enough just to say the words and listen for the answer you want to hear—or the absence of a negative. One must try to understand their partner as a whole person who may have a hard time articulating the word “no” but may still be saying it in other ways. If we care for one another’s well-beings, we must care that specifically.

Everyone has different limits, and those limits can change at the drop of a hat depending on a great number of factors. A good example of this is when my lizard brain and hormone monster are turned up and wanting. I know that I don’t have the same opinion of what’s acceptable as I do when I’m not turned on and not in a sexy headspace. My intelligent sex educator brain knows the ins and outs of risk factors, STI contraction possibilities, pregnancy risks, and emotional or mental health fallout possible from giving my body to someone to do what they wish without boundaries. When I’m in the altered headspace of amped up hormones and piqued sexual arousal I don’t make the best longterm decisions. I know this about myself. Add in substance use (even a little to relax) and my decision making is definitely impaired by my own sober values and standards. This is why I negotiate with people about sexual play before being in the midst of play itself, and I check in with people when I feel the need to during play. I negotiate before getting the juices flowing in order not to coerce others or to push past my own boundaries in unhealthy ways when I’m not thinking straight. This helps me enjoy the moments I get myself into more fully too—especially knowing I have a partner I trust will stop if I say the word or pull away.

One of the best tools I have at my disposal is this understanding of the disparity between turned on me and “rational” me. When I negotiate a kink scene with someone (sexual or nonsexual) I mention this fact as a negotiation point, “when I’m really turned on I want things that I won’t be happy about afterward if they come to pass. I’ll take responsibility for my “yes” in the moment if I give you one, but I will feel taken advantage of afterward if that’s the situation I’m confronted with by you. Don’t do that”. This means that if we negotiate “no sex”, “no oral/anal”, “no marks”, or anything else right now, OR if the desire to try something mid-scene which we haven’t talked about feels like a good idea, that we agree not to engage in that behavior. Period. If we realize we have great sexual chemistry, or that thing we didn’t negotiate seemed really sexy during play, we can always renegotiate to include that type of play next time. If someone is compelling enough to engage in a healthy consensual-non-consent scene with or to push boundaries with, they’re worthy of scening with more than once.

Sexual healing is real. The human brain is capable of reworking trauma by reliving negative experiences within controlled and desired circumstances. The human brain is great at sexualizing harmful experiences as a way of moving away from being capsized by fear. When something harms us, a natural human instinct is curiosity—learning as much as possible about that thing in order to better understand it, control our responses, mitigate the effects of any potential re-exposure, or simply live with less fear when the trigger is or isn’t present.

Our most primitive interactions with one another, those ruled by the lizard brain, assure the race will continue. Through sexual and sensual concourse (from concurs: [latin] run together, met), we have opportunity to both give and get in ways we cannot experience alone. As we meet, as we run together, let’s practice the gift of naming our desires, our limits, and those little bugs under the skin we call shame. The body heals, scars hang around, and some fade away. If we are going to be better as a society, if we are going to turn the tides against misogyny, repression, and control tactics authored by internalized shame, we must shine light on the dark corners of our desires. We must decide what we would like to do with them. We must move forward alongside one another thoughtfully and articulately. We must not let fear and silence control our appetites or behaviors.

Play On My Friends,
~ Creature

This writing takes time, research, and consideration. It is my art.
Please visit my Patreon, offer one time Support or email me for other options. Thank you.

Toxic ___inity:

My performance as Sirius Black

When I ask you what masculinity is and you stare at me blankly, rejecting the whole of the ideology as mal/tainted/bad, I remember the singsong story of what “little boys are made of”. I remember my jealousy too, in grade school, and my own rejection of “what little girls were made of” as surely as I rejected standing on the sidelines. I wasn’t invited to wrestle, and I opted out of playing house for skinned knees and running through fields, talking to rocks and trees, climbing ever higher, skirt hitched wherever it needed to be so that I might reach to the sky and recline high up in the air, covered in patches of leaf-shaped shade before being called down to lunch.

Masculinity is not a thing which exists only in response (positive or negative) to something outside of itself. I’ll start with my own points of reference. Being assigned female at birth, I’ve been faced with taunts about the size and shape of my always shifting body since an inappropriately young age. That I am female conflates this experience as a feminine thing. It is not though. This happens to all people—body shaming. Some more than others, and some in ways which are more or less tolerable. Picking apart my dysphoria caught up within dysmorphia clearly shows that the range of possibility for making someone uncomfortable because of gender-expectant conformity is not only a feminine trouble.

If I had to come up with an idea describing masculinity as I experience it, I’d say that masculinity is best understood by looking at ballerinas. Their lines, discipline, effort to precise physical victory, the machinelike bits of their strong, resilient, apt and focused bodies, making beautiful, emotional, unbelievable designs for our eyes and hearts to be inspired by. In loving ballet, I am loving a masculinity our society calls “pretty”—even a girly thing.

Much of femininity is defined as “nice”. It’s ridiculous to paint this trivializing mood onto the “fem(me)”. Femininity, when I feel her in me, is the ocean—that which we come from, that which we are made from inside. Femininity pushes and pulls one like the tides, asking you to strengthen in response to subtle and stronger movements all around. Nurturance and resistance. Mysterious. Indirect. Winding like snakes toward consciousness and skill. There is no “barre workout” leading to a perfect leap or pirouette, there is a wrestling with insecurity, a quiet reflection leading to subtle moments of change, growth, and resilience. Femininity is in the listening which brings mastery.

Masculinity is lightening from the sky, illuminating a path to power.

Femininity is the universe of knowledge found by touching Earth, smelling every scent, and knowing dark things intimately.

We living beings are each, both, all and more—balls of flesh with features varying in color, structure, and a million details adapting to each environment we are in, in order that we may survive another day.

Toxicity is held within broad definitions, bound up in media pressure to conform. Toxicity is adopting inauthentic ideas about some “rules” concerning how one must be in order to exist as a passing part or thing. We cannot pass nor fail at being what we innately have at our disposal.

Nourishment is in balance.

May we all learn to swim and dance.

Play On My Friends,
~ Creature

This writing takes time, research, and consideration. It is my art.
Please visit my Patreon, offer one time Support or email me for other options. Thank you.

Perspectives on Sex Work and Trafficking

Do I look Different? A photo from my first session as a professional Dominant!

I read a lot about sex work, intersectional feminism, human trafficking, sexuality education, sex toys, legalities concerning what one can do with their own body, BDSM, immigration, racial bias, policing, current scientific understanding of trans bodies and lives, health as it pertains to STIs and pregnancy, mental health, emotional growth, queerness, and how human behavior can make or break communities. I’m also a sex worker who communicates regularly with other sex workers from a variety of backgrounds and within different sectors of the industry, about our collective experiences. Recently, specifically in response to the massage parlor raid in Florida involving a high profile client, I’ve found myself joining a number of discussions with people outside sex work to explain the difference between sex work and sex trafficking. These issues are vital to understand as separate-yet-connected realities in order to pursue meaningful legislation, reduce harm, and protect the greatest number of people. It’s important that we decipher between humanitarian response and policing based on misinformation or personal morality agendas. In this article I’ve linked to a number of writings and resources which have helped me better understand these issues. Action is important, but action without understanding can make things worse—historically affecting victims, minorities, and marginalized people most destructively. We can do better. Following are some ideas about how.

1. Understand that Sex work and sex trafficking are distinct and separate issues. The media, police force, and politicians often do more harm than good when these realities are conflated. There’s also an important grey area to be delineated in this conversation concerning “survival sex workers” and their needs. Until we can decipher between these groups of people and their situational needs, legislation cannot be truly effective, and often errs on the side of harm.

2. Decriminalization vs. Legalization of sex work: This article makes a lot of really important points, and is a great read. It’s generally agreed upon by sex workers, clients, and global advocacy groups (like Amnesty International) that decriminalization is the most responsible and least harmful way to approach legislation when addressing sex work as a vocation. Some highlights in that conversation are:

  • Legalization of sex work creates separate classes of workers. The privileged class is that of sex workers who are “legally” engaged in sex work, as defined by having successfully jumped through bureaucratic hoops—which are usually not legislated in tandem with suggestions from sex workers themselves. A second lesser class of worker results from those who haven’t (for any number of reasons) successfully jumped through the bureaucratic hoops in place, and so are considered “illegal workers” and so become further vulnerable to both officials and predators. In practice, classism disproportionately negatively effects marginalized people including workers who are immigrants, PoC, trans, drug users, and survival sex workers. “Legalization” systemically favors white, cis, and less poverty stricken sex workers. It is not socially just nor an equitable route to take.
  • Partial Decriminalization (or partial legalization) includes the “Nordic model”, aka “Swedish model”, aka “what they do in Germany”. In this model the selling of sex work is decriminalized, yet the buying of sexual services remains against the law. This arrangement of criminality puts clients in the position of fearing legal retribution as they seek services which are legal to sell. This causes problems for sex workers most significantly down the line. People who are afraid of prosecution generally do not want to be vetted by workers, they are less likely to give accurate information to workers when asked, and are less likely to allow sex workers the time they need to evaluate whether or not they are a safe client to interact with. The fallout from situations like these is an increase of abuse to workers themselves, and pressure to work in less safe situations in order to receive an income.
  • Things to know about decriminalization: decriminalizing sex work does not change the status of sex trafficking. Trafficking remains illegal and is separately defined from consensual sex work.
  • Within decriminalization underage sex is still defined as sex trafficking and should be prosecuted as such.
  • Decriminalization of consensual sex work helps authorities and trafficking advocates narrow their focus and resources to those victimized by trafficking and abuse. When less time, energy, and money is wasted on adults involved in consensual sexual trade, authorities are left with more resources to seek out perpetrators of trafficking and abuse violations.
  • Decriminalization of sex work helps sex workers and victims of sex trafficking report abuse to the authorities without fear of retribution or further harm befalling them as consequence.
  • Decriminalization in the USA has already been studied, as it was decriminalized for 6 years in Rhode Island between 2003-2009. Two numbers of note that have been published about that period of time are that cases of gonorrhea went down by around 40% statewide, and police reports of rape went down by about 30%.

3. What is FOSTA/SESTA? the impact of FOSTA and SESTA on actual sex workers has been discussed since well before either bill was voted on last year. Recently there have been updates published about the fallout from these bills—and it turns out that sex workers were right about how it would effect their industries and personal safety. In addition, these bills have effected the internet as a whole, our national discourse on sexuality, and the experiences of non sex workers navigating person to person platforms such as dating websites, while increasingly dealing with censorship or placed in harm’s way.

4. Sex worker clientele: How is it possible to have a healthy and respectful relationship with service providers? Sex work is an issue which involves many communities of people, and clients are as much a part of the conversation as sex workers are. There are as many reasons why clients seek out the help of sex workers as there are clients. There are as many reasons to become a sex worker as there are workers.

So, why are we making this issue largely about women and victims (frequently framing women most comfortably as victims too)? Consider that men (and clients who are not men) comprise an important half of this discussion. We cannot meaningfully talk about the needs of workers and/or how to help people who are victimized by trafficking, if we can’t accept the reality that these situations stem from the needs or desires of actual people first. In this era of “me too” it’s vitally important to be having conversations about how the patriarchy and toxic definitions of masculinity hurt all of us regardless of gender, sex, or which side of the provider/client/victim-of-violence slash one finds themself on.

5. It’s important to acknowledge that white people and cis straight men disproportionately profit off industries which fetishize people of color and other marginalized people. This is evident in the sex industry too. This is evident when we assume immigrants and people of color are automatically victims of trafficking, or call for clients to hire what amounts to white women or well-off providers in order to be “socially responsible clients”. This is evident when we don’t rise up and call bullshit when black and brown strippers are paid less, given worse shifts, and hired less frequently than white workers are. This is evident when we automatically decide that third parties (“pimps”, booking agents, agency owners, etc.) never have the safety and welfare of sex workers in mind, rather than digging deeper into what different demographics of workers prefer or need individually. This also gets into whether or not we trust and believe marginalized people when they tell us about their lives.

6. After learning about these issues one may be left feeling lost as to what to do. There are many ways to help effect change. From discussing what you’ve learned with the people around you, to not tolerating derogatory statements which objectify sex workers or demonize their clients when voiced by friends, co-workers, and family. Volunteering for the sex work advocacy or end-human-trafficking organization you feel most connected to is a solid start, as is writing your elected officials.

Consider whether or not you think these issues are ones which pertain to you, your friends, family, associates, or people whose struggles you care to acknowledge. We’re all connected. We each play a part.

7. Sex work isn’t just something other people engage in—if you’ve ever watched porn you’re part of the tapestry depicting how sexuality and capitalism effect us all. As an exercise: think about why you might be interested in (or turn to) pornography, erotica, strip clubs, cam rooms, phone sex, professional Dominants/submissives/switches, instructional books and video, sex therapists, sex surrogates, sensual and/or sexual massage providers, sexological body workers, full service sex workers, sacred sexuality guides, escorts, sugar relationships, swinger’s clubs, live sex performances, commercial dungeons, sex and kink conventions, or any other iteration of paid (or often unpaid—be aware of what this also means) assistance catering to your sexual impulses or desires. Sex work is work. I’m sure you can easily list a number of common reasons people pay for sex and sex adjacent services. Prioritize access to safe and respectful spaces for sex workers to provide. Protect the bulk of our resources in doing so. Prosecute traffickers and those who abuse.

The very ways we depict, legislate, and police these interconnected concerns must be more transparently examined, and they must change.

Play On My Friends,
~ Creature

This writing takes time, research, and consideration. It is my art.
Please visit my Patreon, offer one time Support or email me for other options. Thank you.

Age Verification: www.ABCsOfKink.com addresses adult sensual and sexual information, including imagery associated with a wide variety of BDSM topics and themes. This website is available to readers who are 18+ (and/or of legal adult age within their districts). If you are 18+, please select the "Entry" button below. If you are not yet of adult age as defined by your country and state or province, please click the "Exit" link below. If you're under the age of consent, we recommend heading over to www.scarleteen.com — an awesome website, which is more appropriate to minors looking for information on these subjects. Thank you!