Local BDSM porn company Kink.com has faced growing pressure from the state legislature and regulatory agencies to use condoms on its shoots, and now, the company may confront a lawsuit from a performer who faced an HIV scare in the porn industry last year. A demand letter obtained by SF Weekly shows that an "aggrieved former employee" of Kink.com is seeking restitution for nearly 25 alleged violations of California Labor Code, including one pertaining to bloodborne pathogens.
The demand letter goes on to state that the former employee attended a shoot "wherein there was no exposure control plan, untested audience members participated, and other illegal acts and omissions occurred."
The letter also describes the porn industry's current database for STD testing, known as PASS, as a direct violation of California law. This database, the letter asserts, freely shares performers' legal names and personal medical information, including STD test results.
Kink spokesperson Mike Stabile says, "The letter is not only disingenuous, it's demonstrably false across the board, and we're absolutely fighting it."
As Kink.com faces legislative and regulatory pressure -- and a potential lawsuit -- it appears the company may pack up and leave San Francisco. Uptown Almanac reported that Kink.com, currently headquartered at the Armory in San Francisco's Mission district, had filed paperwork with the city's planning department to convert the building to office space.
The Armory, a historic building that housed the U.S. National Guard during the early 20th century, was purchased by Kink.com's founder and CEO Peter Acworth in 2006 for $14.5 million. But this is not the first time Acworth has proposed renovations to the Armory -- in 2007, he floated the idea of converting a portion of the building to condos, complete with webcams so voyeurs could watch the occupants online, and, more recently, he renovated the Armory's Drill Court for use as a community center.
However, the current proposal to convert the building to office space stems not from a desire to innovate the way porn is made, but rather to keep production the same.
As SF Weeklypreviously reported, Kink.com and other local pornography companies have faced increasing pressure to require performers to wear condoms while filming. In February, Kink.com was fined $78,710 by the California Occupational Safety and Health Administration; the majority of the fine related to the lack of condom use on set. (A $3,710 portion of the fine was incurred due to other workplace safety hazards.) The complaints that initiated Cal-OSHA's investigation were filed by the AIDS Healthcare Foundation on behalf of several performers. Kink.com is currently appealing the fines.
Stabile says, "Kink has always left the decision to use a condom up to the performer. Some of performers regularly use them, but most prefer not to, for the same reasons that other people choose not to. They can be uncomfortable, something that's magnified on a long shoot."
The Cal-OSHA fines come in the wake of a 2012 Los Angeles law requiring condom use on porn sets (the law was also backed by the AIDS Healthcare Foundation). Since condom use became mandatory, the porn advocacy organization Free Speech Coalition reported a 95 percent drop in adult film permit applications in LA County, indicating that filmmakers are moving away from Los Angeles. Lawmakers are also pushing for a statewide law to require condoms in pornography -- California Assembly Bill 1576, which would require condom use in adult films made throughout the state, cleared the Assembly Labor Committee last week in a 5-0 vote.
Michael Weinstein, president of AIDS Healthcare Foundation, praised the vote, stating, "AB 1576 expands and broadens worker protections for all California's adult film workers on a statewide basis." The bill will soon be considered by the Legislature's Arts, Entertainment, Sports, Tourism and Internet Media Committee. ...
Sex. It’s called the guilty pleasure. All too often - if it’s gay sex - it’s considered a shameful pleasure.
10 years ago my lover of twenty two years and I recognized a social need. There was no safe secure club in New York City where men could engage in sex that wasn’t clothed in darkness or a subliminal negativity. So we opened a private men’s sex club whose purpose was to provide an environment where sex could be talked about and engaged in with a positive attitude. We felt that a safe, positive and comfortable setting such as ours would give people the freedom and security to develop healthy practices. We knew that the implicit shame in “underground, closeted” sex only fostered unsafe practices. In fact, we watched over the years as condom use increased and conversations between positive and negative men, about sex and risk, became more commonplace.
After seven years in operation we received a letter from Mayor Bloomberg’s Midtown Task Force, stating their intention to close us down. Our letter of response reminded them of our work and openness with the state and city representatives and invited them to meet with us about our business. That meeting was declined.
Then on November 16, 2006 a task force of Mayor Bloomberg’s came just as the staff had opened and rushed them out of the club, with just enough time to gather their things, and padlocked the door. In spite of our organization as a private membership club, in spite of our involvement with the city and state for three years on the Commercial Sex Venue Working Group (CSVWG) forum, we were forced to close. At the time the Gay City News reported that the summons filed by the city detailed a list of sexual acts. The majority – up to of 80% of those cited in the summons -were cited as safe sex acts.
EL MIRAGE - that was the name of the club - strived to be a good business citizen. We paid taxes, had unemployment insurance and workman’s compensation, provided CPR training/ certification for our employees. We supported groups like The Anti-Violence Project and Ryan-Nena Community Health Center. We had HIV testing and STD counseling on a regular basis. We worked with the CSVWG.
We operated strictly as a private membership club. We knew that a state health law – written in the late eighties to justify the closure of gay bathhouses - forbade public establishments from providing facilities for sex. In CSVWG meetings with health department representatives, we were even told that the officials would honor this interpretation of the law and not pursue enforcement.
Why close El Mirage? What could be the compelling reason? NO SHAME. Operating illegally, underground with no community awareness is tolerated because those in power don’t look like they are condoning gay sex.
Ted Haggard’s shame would only allow him to admit to having massages by a male while using crystal meth, asking for forgiveness for the part of his life “that is so repulsive and dark.” James McGreevy came out to divert attention from his breaking corruption scandal to gain sympathy for the “suffering and anguish” of his homosexual lifestyle. Andrew Sullivan has said he wants gays and lesbians to be considered “normal.”
Now, what is normal? Shame? Shame defined in Wikipedia is “the consciousness or awareness of dishonor, disgrace, or condemnation.
The question may be: whose consciousness or awareness shall lead us? Certainly not Haggard’s, McGreevy’s, Sullivan’s or a mayor of New York City. Any kind of consensual sex by persons of the same, or appropriate ages, should carry no shame. The dishonor, disgrace and self-condemnation are tools of the closet. As long as we are neutered, we are tolerated. But the idea that two men or two women have actual intimate physical contact brings our rights into question.
One of the philosophies from the sixties that was transformed, yet kept alive in the seventies by the gay and lesbian movement, was that of embracing our physical being as something spiritual and enlightening. Gay men developed this philosophy with more sexually expressive freedoms. Lesbians in turn developed a women’s health movement and a collective identity so beautifully proclaimed in “Our Bodies, Our Selves.”
This openness scared many people, straight and gay alike. A resurgence of shame for sexuality was re-established throughout society. And this fear of ourselves, or should I say shame of ourselves, has brought us back to the oppression we see tolerated today. This shame prevents open and educated communication concerning sex, disease, and alternative lifestyles.
Who we are physically intimate with is one facet that makes us different from others - joyfully so. It gives us a novel -even revolutionary- perspective on the world around us.
Shame is a terrible demon. After all, your shame could be considered my “normalness.” And it has no place being anywhere near sex, which is a glorious gift from the Universe.
To read more blogs by Joel, go to: http://www.tumblr.com/search/joel+czarlinsky
Last summer, I started a long-term project on consent within the Fifty Shades of Grey series as seen through BDSM and marriage contracts. Only halfway through the summer did I pay attention to reactions to the topic.
It was only after people unexpectedly failed to laugh or joke about my research that I realized I expected them to mock my work. I would be comforted if I could say these reactions center on the text alone: Fifty Shades is what it is, and the pop culture hive-mind long ago decided to create a meme of derision against the series and anyone who engages with it.
But these reactions go beyond the typical excuse of discomfort about my type of research, because being ridiculed for my obviously intensive project is only the least of my worries as a sex positive advocate. I have had to defend myself against misguided first impressions without shaming those who make choices similar to the stereotypes thrown against me. I have had to manage a mix of shame and anger when someone made joking insinuations about my personal life for months based on the fact that I write this column.
And I know I am not alone. Too many times, I have heard similar struggles from friends, classmates and strangers in and outside of campus who are passionate about sexual or romantic health. They understand that the very nature of their advocacy puts them in potentially uncomfortable, unwanted, unsafe situations.
Similar situations pop up with most advocacy work. When there is something to fight for, you occasionally encounter people or situations against which to argue. For now, I am concerned most with the response to activism surrounding sexual or romantic health. It is disturbing that the very act of talking about and advocating for these issues exacerbates the very threat of sexualized, intimate violence. Even if it is supposedly part of the job, how can it be fair that those in vulnerable positions are asked to open themselves up to even more vulnerability?
An incident I believe highlights the urgency of this issue occurred between me and a classmate last year. I mentioned my work with this column and my racialized, classed sex positivity. The student asked me about it, and we had a good conversation about porn even though he held views different than mine. However, he kept asking me about porn, called me out in class about my opinions, and forced me to defend myself after I felt we had exasperated the topic. Because I think of myself as an educator and because I was socialized through violence to always answer questions from men, I kept answering even though I found myself growing uncomfortable.
A friend checked in with me and told me something I had not considered: I could say no to his questions. That it’s okay to feel uncomfortable, even as an advocate. I realized that being made to talk about porn and sex with him brought up the feelings of embarrassment, being trapped, inability to say no, and frustration that I associate with sexual harassment. I had convinced myself I did not deserve to feel upset because the intention in our conversation was education, not a sexual or romantic pursuit.
The exchanges did not escalate to harassment. I recognize my participation in creating the situation, and I still do not completely blame him for it. That check-in helped me start saying no and tell him I was uncomfortable, and he understood the situation and backed off. But this recognition does not excuse my emotional toil, justify his obliviousness and rudeness or indicate that the situation would not have escalated the point where I felt harassed. ...
The BDSM porn purveyor Kink.com that has been operating in the Armory Building since 2007 may soon be cracking its last whip in the Mission. It’s not leaving because of the rising cost of real estate; it’s because of the cost of producing porn.
Last week, the Planning Department released a preliminary review of a plan submitted by Peter Acworth, CEO of Kink.com and the Armory Building’s owner, that would convert the building’s production studios into office space. If approved the proposal would create more than 100,000 square feet of office space in the Civil War-era building on 14th and Mission.
In an email message to Mission Local, Acworth explained that recent and upcoming legislative changes creating stricter health regulations in adult films have made the production of hardcore pornography prohibitively expensive in California. Acworth says that he may move the production arm of Kink.com to Nevada and rent out the Armory for office use.
“The fact is that new regulations threaten to essentially criminalize the production of hardcore pornography in California,” Acworth said. “Measure B in L.A. county was just the start, and now we face AB 1576 and new draft CAL-OSHA regulations that are being proposed.”
Assembly Bill 1576, which was introduced in January, would amend the California Occupational Safety and Health Act with provisions specifically for adult films. If approved, studios would have to provide documentation that all performers use condoms during scenes involving penetrative intercourse and that all performers are tested for STIs every 14 days.
“These new regulations are not yet in place and we are disputing them,” Acworth said in his email. “We hope to prevail on the basis that our protocols include strict, mandatory testing and/or mandatory condoms for all our shoots, and based on the fact that there has not been an on-set transmission of HIV in the U.S. since 2004 on any set where testing was required — not just at Kink.com but anywhere in the industry.”
Earlier this year, two performers named Cameron Bay and Rod Daily contracted HIV during the time they were also working for Kink.com. According to Kink.com spokesman Mike Stabile, Bay was offered a condom but declined to use one during her shoot and Daily, Bay’s boyfriend at the time, used condoms during all his scenes. Acworth has stated previously that he was confident these performers were infected through encounters in their personal lives and not on set, in part, because all their scene partners tested negative following shoots with Bay or Cameron.
However, in an interview with the Huffington Post, Bay has described a more complex situation in which she felt subtle pressure not to use condoms and was severely injured while on set. Her contraction of HIV led to a brief national moratorium on porn shoots. ...
...In recent years, the internet has done for alternative sexuality what it did for comic fans, anime otaku, and gamers—uniting like-minded but geographically distant subgroups and revealing the “fringe” to be larger and far more passionate than anyone had expected. And considering how deeply nerd subculture permeated fashion, film, and television, you have to wonder if the sexual fringe can even accurately be called a fringe at all.
An American study found that more than 40 percent of millennials think that traditional marriage is becoming obsolete, while OKCupid data indicated that more than 34 percent of its users have had a same-sex sexual experience or would like to. The numbers are similar regarding threesomes, according to an ABC survey.
Gen Y’s much-discussed hyperconnectivity, constant communication, and desire for gratification on their own terms actually puts them in a prime position to become a generation of sex nerds. They can figure out the parameters of their relationships on an individual level and eschew conventional sexual and romantic codes in favor of ongoing discussion about their own needs and interests, and the needs and interests of their partners.
But it’s not just young people. The slow mainstreaming of alt sex and love is picking up speed. How much longer can we classify BDSM as a niche interest while Fifty Shades books and paraphernalia fly off shelves nationwide? Sure, it's not exactly an ideal introduction to BDSM, but it implies a large-scale interest in kink across North America, the UK, and elsewhere.
And if a single trashy trilogy can ignite global interest in an allegedly “deviant” sexual subculture, what else are people interested in? How can they access it? Are they already doing so, in quiet corners of the internet after the kids have gone to bed? Are body-positive threesomes the new functional bum-bags? Is queer-friendly feminist tumblr porn the next Star Wars?
Modern society has come far in the last several decades in progressing towards tolerance, and perhaps even acceptance, of individuals who may not look or act the way the statistical majority does in terms of sexual and gender expression. Having said that, human consciousness remains overwhelmingly confined by rigid heteronormative definitions of sexual orientation and gender identification that reinforce binary stereotypes and the pathologization of individuals who identify outside of the mainstream. Research on the subject of BDSM (Bondage, Discipline, Sadomasochism) has historically pathologized BDSM practitioners by focusing on nonconsensual interactions that incorporate elements of sexual sadism or masochism as defined in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders [(DSM) American Psychiatric Association, 2013; Pitagora, 2013]. However, over the past two decades, BDSM desire and expression have increasingly been considered an atypical but naturally occurring variation of human sexuality that appeals to 5 to 14% of the general population (Masters, Johnson, & Kolodny, 1995; Janus and Janus, 1993). As of the latest iteration of the DSM in 2013, critics have raised arguments for the removal of the Paraphilic Disorders section, based on a lack of objective research to support its inclusion, as well as the section’s poorly written and conflicting diagnostic criteria; it has been suggested that the disorders remain included in the DSM-5 largely for historic and/or political reasons (Federoff, Di Giocchino, & Murphy, 2013; Moser, 2013).
It is heartening to see a trend toward the depathologization of atypical sexual orientations and gender identifications, as indicated by the removal of homosexuality from the DSM over a span of 30 years, and the changes to gender-based disorders that are following suit (Drescher, 2010). It stands to reason that the Paraphilic Disorders section in the DSM-5 would follow the same trajectory, given that the diagnoses were similarly created using culturally-based criteria with no basis in scientific evidence for its inclusion (Federoff, Gioacchino, & Murphy, 2013; Moser, 2013). While the change in cultural and academic perception of atypical sexual and gender expression is a long and arduous process, there seem to be signs of progress that lend a glimmer of hope to those in these fringe communities, indicating that societal tolerance and acceptance is on the horizon. For those with the end goal of equality in terms of sexual expression, this is a promising prospect. However, for those who want more than to be included in the status quo, acceptance and tolerance is not enough.That is to say, repurposing atypical sexual and gender expressions so that they fit into the mainstream idea of what is acceptable does little to further the sexual evolution of society as a whole. This line of reasoning presents a conundrum: Is the fight for sexual freedom merely about access to rights for sexual minority individuals, or also about questioning structures that limit the potential of human freedom for everyone?
In the interest of full disclosure—a concept that is a central tenet among BDSM practitioners (Pitagora, 2013)—it should be noted that the above question was appropriated from LGBT social justice activist Urvashi Vaid (2012), who proposes that equality is not necessarily the ideal end goal for those situated in the margins of sexual orientation and gender identification. Instead, a higher order goal might be to employ the inherent truths in such atypical desires and identifications in order to debunk the currently entrenched heteronormative binary systems of sexuality and gender expression. By shedding light on the way that those who practice BDSM subvert stereotypical gender roles in consensual and negotiated sexual interactions, a world of possibility could be exposed for those mired in rote sexual behaviors enacted within the constraints of societal expectation. The question asked another way: Might an evolution of human sexual behavior be possible for all individuals, no matter how mainstream and conforming, by learning from those who deviate from the sexual norm? …
Dulcinea will be presenting the entirety of this paper at the Woodhull Sexual Freedom Summit, August 14-17 in Alexandria, VA.