ABCs Of Kink

Safer Sex in the Age of PrEP

December 13, 2018 by ABCs Of Kink

I started taking PrEP. As a person in queer and trans communities I’ve had sex with bisexual, gay, and straight identifying men who have sex with other men. These people comprise a higher risk group when it comes to HIV transmission. Lately my tendency is sex with partners I’m not regularly involved with. People I’m intimate with have sex lives I know little about, as might their other partners, and so on. I engage in the occasional blood play scene, and teach play piercing. Even though I’m not regularly (or frequently) sexually active, PrEP seems a fair precaution to take. HIV is one of the STIs* I’d like to place further from reach.

If a condom broke, didn’t get used, or I was put at risk in another manner, I can take an injection or pill to clear up Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, and Syphilis. I’ve already had my Hepatitis B vaccinations, and I test positive for HSV 1 which I contracted 20 years ago when someone went down on me. In the past I’ve tested positive for HPV (which they don’t test AMAB people for), and a significant portion of the population is positive with this virus already. Until the HPV vaccine is affordably available to people over 20-something years old, HIV is the unaccounted for STI that I can do something about in a prophylactic manner. As for pregnancy, it just so happens that the assigned male at birth (AMAB) partners I have who are semi-regular (therefore more likely to engage in unprotected sex with) have all had vasectomies. I’m also on Testosterone which makes it harder (though not impossible) to conceive.

I screen for sexually transmitted infections (STIs) every three months and whenever else might seem appropriate. Probably the number one thing I do to avoid STI transmission though, is have “the talk” with each person I hook up with before we engage in risky behavior. I run through my history with STIs, share my most recent test results, bring up any risky behaviors or new partners I’ve engaged with since my last test, and answer whatever questions they have for me. Then I ask for that same information from my playmate. I’m astounded that approximately 95% of the time I’m the one to bring this conversation up, and a lot of people say they’ve never had this conversation before. Happily, most of the people I chat with get tested relatively regularly and can speak to their histories and experiences. If after the conversation we don’t feel like engaging in risky contact, there’s always mutual masturbation, and other safe forms of intimacy which don’t risk exposure, but feel sexy and great!

Being the sex nerd I am, I wondered to what extent PrEP actually protects me, and in doing research I found out I’m not in the same situation as AMAB people who take it. This is a complicated bit of research to chase reliable information down about. The recommendation to wait 7 days after starting PrEP applies to receptive anal intercourse only. If you’re interested in vaginal intercourse the recommendation increases from a week to 20-30 days. Similarly, while PrEP boasts being around 90% effective for receptive anal intercourse exposure, there is only about a 70% rate of effectiveness for intravenous drug users, and nothing I can find which specifically addresses exposure from receptive vaginal intercourse. It seems generally to be agreed upon that receptive vaginal intercourse is a more risky activity than receptive anal intercourse.

A lot of people believe (and it’s advertised as such) that PrEP is 99% effective. That number was found specifically amongst gay men in a controlled study, yet those findings have not been replicated en mass in the real world. When PrEP is used correctly, in conjunction with condoms, and limiting one’s number of sex partners, it seems as though its effectiveness is closer to 90%. Among gay men who do not regularly use condoms and who do not limit their sex partners the rate of effectiveness is closer to 86%. I find it frustrating that I cannot get a clear account of PrEP’s effectiveness for people who regularly engage in receptive vaginal sex.

There is at least one rare strain of HIV which is resistant to PrEP and has infected at least two people in the past couple years who were on PrEP. One other person reported contracting a non-resistant strain of HIV after having unprotected sex with multiple partners while on PrEP, even though he tested with appropriate levels of the drug in his system. He was reported to have had unprotected sex with a high number of people, and to have contracted Chlamydia and/or Gonorrhea a couple of times during the period in question. So, what does this add up to?

In short, it’s very important to test for HIV before you take PrEP. If you are already infected, the regular and continued use of PrEP can develop a drug resistant strain of HIV within your own body, which might then potentially infect partners. This is also why it’s important for people taking PrEP to be tested every 3 months, and to take their medication regularly and without fail. Aside from continued use of condoms in conjunction with proper PrEP use, the recommendation to limit one’s sexual partners seems a reasonable precaution as well. There is little information about exactly what factors should be considered when looking at the case of the person who contracted a normal strain of HIV while on PrEP. Was it the number of partners he had, or the number of potential virus types his body may have been contending with that led PrEP to fail? Was is the sheer amount of sexual activity he was engaging in, leading to more micro-tearing of his anal tissue and increased access to the bloodstream? Could it be that other STI infections he contracted lowered his resistance to HIV? Or it might it be something else entirely? So far that data is not available.

Theories on safety: Getting tested for STIs regularly is important for one’s sexual health. Period. I like to think about regular testing as a form of self care which is also community care. This is an ethic I have in mind when I find I’ve tested positive for an STI. If I consider talking about STIs as self and community care, it helps me gather up courage to contact anyone I might have exposed or been exposed by, in order to let them know they should get tested and/or seek treatment. Talking frankly to past and present partners about sexual behavior and STIs is a responsibility of mine as a sexually active individual, and as a loving individual.

I know many people struggle with the courage or language to talk about sex frankly. In situations where one feels guilt or shame, it can be doubly hard to make that happen. It takes practice to speak openly about sexual health in general, and when fear or shame enters the equation silence can easily win out. Unfortunately silence perpetuates the spread of disease. If you enjoy someone enough — even for an hour — to risk STI infection with them, consider linking that enjoyment to the resilience demanded in order to call them a month or two down the line if an STI shows up positive on your test.

Speaking of STIs should not be linked with finger pointing or shaming. Just like we don’t stigmatize a friend, coworker, or loved one who may have given us a cold. Speaking honestly about STIs could merely be seen as an act of care-taking and routine sexual responsibility. If every person treated for an STI waited the recommended amount of time to become sexually active after, and shared their status with past and present partners, the dividing and multiplying paths leading others to risk would diminish considerably.

Access to regular STI testing is an important factor in keeping individuals STI free, and so keeping the number of infections significantly lower in communities. Easy and affordable access to STI treatment is an important factor in keeping spread of illness down as well. Unfortunately these two very simple and obvious access points to sexual health are absolutely impacted by wealth in the United States. People who can afford healthcare, who get tested regularly, and who are better educated about their risk factors, are more likely to both avoid STIs and get treated in a timely manner if they do not. This helps the spread of STIs minimize in their communities.

If access to testing, access to treatment, and comprehensive sexuality education are what help a society lower certain types of illness, why is it that those things are so hard to come by equally for all people in this country? It seems our sexually repressive social mores are, in fact, an undeniable contributor to the survival and prevalence of sexual disease. It is no coincidence that better sexuality education, better healthcare, and better access to wellness resources are available to those who are wealthier. It follows that these things are not simply about education and access, they are 100% about class.

What can we all do? Probably the easiest thing that anyone and everyone can do in order to make informed decisions about what risks we’re taking with our own bodies and the bodies of our loved ones, is to get comfortable talking about our sexual histories with everyone we come into sexual contact with. Talking about sex is free and all it requires is that you have courage, that you share facts, and that you ask questions. It’s important to consider whether or not you trust the person you’re speaking with, and that you take sexuality education into our own hands by learning about risk factors for various STIs and methods of lowering those risks.

There are lots of sexual and sensual activities anyone can enjoy if you decide you don’t want to risk your health with a particular partner. From less risky heavy petting, to making sure you use appropriate barrier methods (condoms, gloves, dental dams, etc), to sensual and BDSM activities which don’t require fluid exchange, to mutual masturbation, and safe use of toys.

The math: Consider that some people (AMAB people especially) can be asymptomatic for STIs they carry, or might test false negative more frequently. Consider that it can take up to three months (or more) for enough bacteria to be built up in a person’s system to test positive for certain STIs. Consider that many patients are not given “multiple location tests” for Chlamydia, and so while they may test negative from a urine sample they may still be infected anally or orally with that bacteria. Consider that patients are often not coached on how to appropriately take a “dirty” urine sample, instructed not to drink anything, or pee for at least two hours prior to testing — all which can provide a more accurate sample for certain urine tests.

I don’t consider my testing completely “up to date” if I’ve had risky sex leading up to 3 months before my last test. Of course I sigh a breath of relief and emotionally consider myself negative when that’s what my stats say, but in the back of my head I know there’s a possibility that the person I slept with a month prior to testing could well have infected me with something which hasn’t shown up yet. I consider three months to be an appropriate amount of time between testings, and it’s an interval which many sexually active and non-monogamous people generally agree upon. In addition to that, I make sure I get tested after leaving a long term or monogamous relationship, as I’m more likely to have had unprotected sex with that person, and end-of-relationship times are culturally notorious for overlap of undisclosed sexual activities. If I feel symptomatic of anything, especially if I’ve recently had sex with someone new, I don’t wait until my three months are up, I get tested. Some people also wait to have sex with a new partner until they’ve both been freshly updated with recent tests. I enjoy going to a clinic with a partner, it feels supportive and freeing.

I hope this blog has given you some new things to think about when it comes to sexual health and safety. I hope it encourages you to talk with sexy people about all of these things. I hope if you haven’t gotten tested recently you’ll find a place nearby and update your stats, or have an in-depth and accurate conversation with your Doctor about your actual sexual behavior and potential risks for STI transmission. In most areas you can find free STI clinics, some of which offer anonymous resources as well. Consider asking exactly what they are testing you for, as some sites offer testing for only a limited number of STIs rather than the full gamut. As I already know my ongoing HSV, HPV, and Hep C stats, I prefer to update my Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, HIV, and Syphilis tests each time, making sure I’m offered a throat and anal swab in addition to my urine (or cervical) sample for accurate Chlamydia results.

May we all become better at talking about sex openly and without judgement or shame, and accessing the help we need for ourselves, our loved ones, and our communities.

*STI stands for “Sexually Transmitted Infections”, which is a more up to date term than “STD” these days. The word “infection” carries with it less stigma than “disease”. Similarly, when speaking of one’s STI test results it’s more appropriate to say “negative” than “clean”. Cleanliness has nothing to do with STI status and contributes to the feeling of stigma and alienation when one finds out they are positive for an STI, which further incentivizes people not to speak freely and accurately about their sexual histories and status.

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. Thanks.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: CDC recommendations for PrEP, effectiveness rate of PrEP, how to be sexually responsible, PrEP, safer sex, STD testing, STI testing, talking about sex

From the Desk of a PSO

December 12, 2018 by ABCs Of Kink

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

Recently I was on call with a client and he wanted to know what I thought about his partner. He’s turned on that she’s dated extensively prior to meeting him, and has more experience than he does. He enjoys when she “plays the whore” in the bedroom. I asked him what he meant by that, and he said he likes how wild and verbal she can be. Obviously I think she sounds wonderful, but our conversation led me to muse on a few related topics.

Hand in hand with diverse experiences comes an ability to articulate thoughts and feelings on the subject more easily. Practice makes perfect. In our society, which socializes people to strive for longterm monogamy, acquiring sexual experience and feeling free to own your experiences is less commonly a topic of conversation. To speak of one’s sexual feelings and desires openly, to call a spade a spade while it’s happening in the bedroom [kitchen, or on the office floor], is a sexy practice indeed. For one to name what is happening in the moment — what is actually turning oneself and one’s partner(s) on, rather than gratuitously enacting the missionary style of sex we’re taught we’re supposed to enjoy — is a gift of affirmation.

To discover the sexual activities that please us as individuals, and for those desires to be be accepted is a powerful acknowledgement of self, of pleasure, and of a carnal reality which can be cared for without shame. It is a form of seeing and accepting another person deeply when one is able to name your turn-ons without judgement or imply wrongfulness.

So I ask this question today in reference to my client’s comment: What is a Whore (appropriately referred to as a Sex Worker)? My answer is: a Sex Worker* is a person (historically, and most commonly a woman) who is committed to deeper understanding of carnal knowledge. It is the world’s oldest profession, and one which will never (and should never) go away. Like any profession it deserves compensation. Unlike many professions it should come with hazard pay and protection by the state (rather than against it).

To “know” someone infers a level of established intimacy. It also means having shared a sexual experience with them. I do not think this is a strange double entendre. Sharing one’s sexuality is sharing oneself at the most primal and basic level there is. Consensual sexual intimacy allows our animal self space to emerge, and the lizard brain to take over. We have opportunity to shed the skin of intellectual humanity, and the pleasure of our desires may emerge and dance freely. We find ourselves looking through the eyes of love, lust, desire, caring, and vulnerability during these moments. Our vulnerable selves exposed, allows another to truly “know” who we are.

When people who I do not know approach me for sexual or sensual connection because they are attracted to how free and well versed I am in expressing my experiences with various sexual and sensual pursuits, or how articulate I can be within the subjects of desire, it is not because they are interested in pleasing me. It’s because they are interested in setting their own selves free, and they see in me the potential to experience something they themselves desire to unlock. I am a professional sex worker because I am open to, non-judging of, and excited to support other people’s journeys and needs in the sensual and sexual realms within the boundaries of my comfort and safety. It is a job. That sex work is my profession does not mean I’m not passionate about what I am doing, but make no mistake — I am doing the session for my client. A therapist does not turn around and unload their personal crisis’ on their clients, nor does a sex worker make a session about what they themselves wholly wish for within an intimate relationship. I may experience pleasure, just as any person who loves their job or practicing a skill effectively should. Just like your friend who happens to be a chef is not be expected to cook dinner every time you hang out, nor should I be expected to plan ahead and prepare myself to fulfill someone else’s desires simply because they request my audience and appreciate (or are turned on by) my photos, art, articulations, free spirit, and writing. Outside of my personal intimate relationships I require payment for my time and attention in these matters. As I should. Does a session feel like love? Yes, I would say some of the most successful connections can hold that feeling for the allotted time we spend together. A session has clear boundaries though: a price, a time limit, and a pre-negotiation about what activities are on and off limits.

I think it’s wonderful that the man I was speaking with and helping — both erotically and emotionally (as he paid me by the minute) — has a partner who helps him feel alive, turned on, excited, openly desirous, and sexually satisfied. He mentioned they were having trouble and that she told him to start seeing other people. I hope he finds methods to further support her needs, as she may not be around forever to cater to his desires. It is not a woman’s (nor a sex worker’s) job to fix or perfectly entertain anyone sexually. Sex workers do not owe you their trade skills, their passion, years of research, experiences, or fought-for freedoms garnered from a lifetime journey into and through sexual, sensual, and often violent taboos. Cherish your local sex workers. Fight for decriminalization of their long-standing vocations. Patronize them (and tip). Treat them like the wonderful and wise resources they are. Sex workers allow themselves, and so their clients, to be deeply and vulnerably cared for and known.

*The terms “whore” and “prostitute” are regarded as derogatory slurs. They are only appropriately used by full-service sex workers in reclamation of their history of misuse, violence, and abuse. The general terms, “sex worker” or “full-service sex worker”, and other words which more specifically describe the type of sex work being referred to (escort, porn star, pro Dom(me), stripper, etc.) are the appropriate ways to refer to the people in these industries.

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. Thanks.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: biblical knowing, experienced girlfriend, friendly local sex worker, getting the sex you want, phone sex operator, sex work

Split Vision

November 29, 2018 by ABCs Of Kink

My character, “Amanda”. Photo by Audrey Hotchkiss

I have a problem with love. I don’t love myself as wholly as I love others. This makes me a good person perhaps, but also a monster.

The soft circles I’m made up of fight to be more angular, and lose unless the pressure of hurt, pain, something to be struggled against which is larger than me is applied, something to be reckoned with. My brain sees its fears in every reflection. These ocular chambers cannot be trusted, will not be denied myopic resolve, nor be trained to react differently to the light.

###

When I am working on a farm my body shines and glows, taking on sinewy shape and golden bronze tone. My back muscles seize. I am damaged and incorrectly proportioned for this labor. Old injuries surface and stop me in my tracks, but my fingers, delving into rich brown life are in love. My brain is terse that I’m not jotting the musings of each moment down (hands filled with hoe and weeds), but my heart speaks the language of plants and sighs sweetly.

When I spend days and weeks writing, out of body, sitting stagnant in a chair that must reek of me by day’s end, my heart is satisfied that it has spoken. My brain gives itself high fives and winds down with comforting, less exhaustive endeavors. My body, left behind stiff and unused but for fingertips, aches and grows less responsive, ornery, sullen, and complaining.

When I work in an office I fight with people. Bare teeth. Rue the day I was born on this planet of unremarkable moments, and wish the insidious poison I taste in my mouth from biting my lip wasn’t blood, but strychnine. I learn a different truth: I have no tolerance.

So are the well worn rounds of my desire, pride, depression, and shame broken down by occupation. Am I a body person, a heart person, or a head person? It’s about gender and it’s not about gender. It’s about my search for truth when there’s no truth to be found.

###

He raised me to the hospital’s bright florescent nova and did not proclaim my life a journey for me to discover. Instead my vulva, fresh from the womb of my Mother was labelled “specimen No. 1” and I was degraded for the first time in my blinking moment of an existence. Degraded not because I was assigned “girl”, and to be “Woman” one day, degraded because I was proclaimed fractured, un-whole, because I was set upon a path of lists and checkboxes (illustrated with many points of power and mystery, but still), proclaimed belonging to a path that was not my own.

No path of lists and checkboxes is holy.

Discovery of my body henceforth was defined by predetermined conditions printed in millions of books, on billboards, and writ loudly on boxes at the breakfast table. Instructions dripped from the lips of all who spoke my name. Expectations and projected pitfalls were branded into the minds of every human I met on this bit of spinning rock we call home. I was promised to another in that moment. I was told to rut deeper in the furrow of advertised femininity, chained to a sex and a story brought on by the glance of a man who had cut my Mother against her will minutes before. He had flashed his knife blade, slicing it through her pelvic floor to bring me out at a pace which pleased his pressing schedule and desire to sew a straighter line. His comfortable manly rut. All the rage in 1978. Have we changed?

###

I remember little hearts springing from my eyes the first time I saw a spiked mohawk and rivets, piercings, and tattoos screaming, “I AM ME! FUCK YOUR LISTS AND EXPECTATIONS!” Still, it took me years and shored up courage to shave my own hair from its scalp. I learned the starkness of nowhere to hide from my newly unframed face. No shield by way of lengthy bangs and curtains of hair. Each expression, every fleeting thought and emotion laid naked in the open, recognizable and bare. I was undateable except for the boy with blue hair and tan skin who also loved mischief and disposing of lists.

Acting school isn’t a place to challenge beauty standards, only emotional norms. Our range should be invisible but for the tremble of a lip, a single tear, staunchly empowered vocals, and the lyrics of our limbs. Pretty at first glance always. No “risk” of individual expression will be tolerated in this industry of uncreative creatives. To be popular with casting agents, director’s couches, and audiences painted with an expectation of status quo was our aim.

The week I graduated I pierced my eyebrow, threading spikes and arrows through that fresh hole in my face. I reclaimed the bit of flesh above my right eye in an act of defiance, satiating a starved desire to be myself first, and the “neutral” instrument of a bourgeois patriarchal entertainment industry no longer.

###

I am neither nor. I am both and all.
I am whole.
I am whole.
I am whole.

I whisper to myself in throes of depression and anxiety. I try to convince myself of worth, but when will I be paid a living wage for the labor of gathering “likes” while helping others see beauty where no one else cares to nurture or hold? I admire others far more than I enjoy myself, but I am stubborn and selfish and I journey on.

I like the way I feel until I don’t. I love the way I create until I tear my work apart. The cycle of brilliance and demolition is a rut I am lost deep within time and time again… Raised to the artificial light I was ticked off “female”. Lesser than. Nurturer. Worth/less without a mask of make-up and willingness to wear heels five days a week. I resent this lie which is absolutely not a lie. I plod too modestly along.

I am overqualified, under-qualified, and angry about the paths which may lead me out of debt and constant struggle, and I have no tolerance for them at all. I do not accept social graces as other than the controlling violence I know them to be.

###

A girl, size zero, ate half her yogurt cup in acting class and cried that she was overweight and we attended her, talked it out, held her pain and soothed her edges. I was terrified to exist in the room that day, so many sizes larger than a zero myself, having a body with substance and strength. I cried in anger and angst about the hell this lifetime is. There would be no return to acting class innocence, knowing others’ perceptions of me must be monstrous indeed. I would never be flat enough, tall enough, straight enough, whatever it was I needed to be enough of to work my way out of debt in this, my beloved industry.

###

I do not wish I was less educated, I wish I was less poor. I do not wish I was built differently, I wish the world celebrated humans with bodies. Everything hurts. I am a toothfull thing, dark and mushy in the light, and I do not know how else to be. I am writer and an artist, truth-teller with no fact-check available for my version of truth. I am sensitive and sad. I am at moments wildly excited and hopeful, as only a creative knowing the uplifting fervor of might-be-attainable dreaming will be. I am flawed (oh so flawed) but my flaws are not measured by diamond commercials and lipstick shades, in skirt sizes and shaving cream standards of shame. My flaws are wrapped up in the fact that I have a problem with love. I don’t love myself as wholly as I love others. This makes me a good person perhaps, but also a monster.

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. Thanks.

Filed Under: Brain on Download Blog Tagged With: appreciate my body, body dysmorphia, gender dysphoria, how to listen to pain, how to love yourself, media, poorness, self love, struggle