Author: Kate Sloan

So Much, Not Enough: Sex Work Laws in Australia

Kate Sloan

Australia’s sex work laws have a long and interesting history. While sex work is legal in many areas of the country, there are still many stipulations that complicate sex work there. In Western Australia, for example, prostitution itself is allowed but some activities associated with it are not, including working in brothels or doing sex work in pairs. This puts Perth escorts and other WA sex workers at risk, because brothel work and paired work is often safer than solo sex work.

I became interested in Australian sex work laws when I discovered Zahra Stardust. Zahra does many different kinds of sex work – including stripping, poledancing, and porn – and she’s also taught gender studies at a university, advocated for sex workers’ rights at the United Nations, and spoken out in the media against Australian censorship laws in porn. Basically, she is a badass. A badass who’s hella smart, incredibly cute, and can squirt enormous amounts.

Zahra has worked closely with the Scarlet Alliance, also known as the Australian Sex Workers Association, with the goal of achieving justice, equality and autonomy for sex workers down under. Among other things, the Alliance does research about sex workers’ lives and work. One finding of theirs is that the mandatory HIV testing required of sex workers in some areas of Australia may actually be a bad thing. A 2012 article (of which Zahra Stardust is a co-author) claims that mandatory STI testing increases stigma, and is invasive, costly, and ultimately unnecessary, because Australian sex workers have some of the lowest STI rates and highest condom usage rates of any sex workers in the world. This suggests that government intervention into sex work may be more hazardous than helpful.

It does indeed seem that many sex work laws make sex workers less safe, despite technically making their work legal. Brisbane escorts and other Queensland sex workers are allowed to work privately or in licensed brothels; however, they are not allowed to hire receptionists, drivers, lawyers, accountants, or cleaners, and they are only allowed to tell another person where they’re going if that person is not a sex worker too. This obviously makes the work not only dangerous but also even more laborious and time-consuming than it already is.

This minimal level of legalization doesn’t even work the way it’s supposed to. A 2009 report found that 90% of sex work in Queensland is either illegal or unregulated. It’s no surprise that when you put ridiculous limitations on how sex workers are allowed to conduct their work, more and more of them will work outside the bounds of legality.

I don’t live in Australia and I’m not anywhere near as entrenched in this world as someone like Zahra Stardust, but at least on paper, it seems like Melbourne escorts and other Victoria sex workers have some of the best rights and protections of any sex workers in Australia. In licensed brothels, sex workers may refuse to see a client if they feel the situation may become unsafe or violent, and they cannot be punished for doing this. Condoms and lube must be provided to sex workers for free in these brothels. Brothel owners must provide workers with clean linens, showers, baths, and hot and cold water. Escort agencies have to provide sex workers with a cellphone or another two-way electronic device to allow for safe communication between workers and licensees. Privately licensed escorts in Victoria are allowed to hire staff, unlike in Queensland, but they may not advertise to find staff.

While there are still many ways in which Australian sex work laws are lacking, it seems to me that they are miles ahead of many other countries in this regard. For example, here in Canada, it’s legal to sell sex but illegal to buy it (?!). I hope that more countries move in the direction Australia is heading, albeit with more protections for sex workers and fewer absurd restrictions on how they can do their work.

 

Note: this post was sponsored, but as always, all opinions and writing are my own!

12 Days of Girly Juice: 1 Fantastic Toy Company

Kate Sloan

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2015 was the year of the Fucking Sculpture.

Though the company only really pinged on my radar this past year, they’ve been around for a good while. They crashed onto the scene in late 2012, instantly impressing bloggers with their dazzling toys and ballsy name. “These people just cut to the chase,” Epiphora wrote. “They called their company Fucking Sculptures.”

When I first looked at their designs, I agreed that the toys were beautiful – but none of them seemed like a particularly good fit for my anatomy. At the time, I was into bulbous G-spotting heads and drastic curves, ideally without a lot of texture. The ridges, bloops and gentle slopes in Fucking Sculpture’s designs were a treat to look at, but didn’t seem like they’d agree with my vagina.

Fast-forward a couple years, and a chain of events brought Fucking Sculptures to the forefront of my awareness again. I heard Aerie extol the bliss their G-Spoon gave them, including how it creates “mind-blowing A-spot orgasms.” Then I got to speak to the company’s co-founder, Maria, for the radio show I guest-hosted over the summer, and her passion for glass dildos made me even more curious about her products.

Maria was kind enough to send me a G-Spoon and I immediately fell in love with it. Not only is it a stunningly gorgeous piece of art, but it also hits my A-spot better than any other toy I’ve ever used. Friends and sex partners have half-jokingly accused me of being “addicted” to it. Sometimes I call it the “G-Swoon,” for obvious reasons. It is just a perfect chunk of glass.

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In the months since then, I’ve amassed two more Fucking Sculptures toys: the Double Trouble and the Pussywillow. (Reviews to come, eventually.) I wanted these so much that I actually paid for them with real money, which sex toy reviewers rarely do. They’re expensive, but they are worth it. And, you know, they’re not really that expensive, for what they are. Plenty of “luxury” toys are around the same price range or higher and aren’t hand-sculpted in the attentive and exquisite way that Fucking Sculptures are.

I’ve used my Fucking Sculptures with partners, in front of friends, and on camera. They always get oohs and aahs when I pull them out. Friends marvel at their beautiful colors and shapes; partners remark on how weighty they feel in the hand, and how much I writhe and wail when the glass makes contact with a perfect spot inside me. These toys are more than toys – they are pieces of art, conversation starters, prized possessions and treasured trophies.

As of right now, I think I own all the Fucking Sculptures creations I need… but who knows? As 2016 progresses, I might develop a craving for even more.

 

Which company made your favorite toys in 2015?

12 Days of Girly Juice: 2 Fears Defeated

Kate Sloan

I wanted to write about fears, because anxiety is a big part of my life. It affects me when I’m writing a difficult exam or performing music in front of a crowd, so of course, it affects me when I’m gettin’ sexy, too.

But this was an interesting year of forcing myself out of comfort and into discovery. I try to do that every year, but 2015 was a year where I really felt like I succeeded. Here are two fears I confronted headfirst in 2015…

 

1. Being watched during blowjobs

Oh, I know. I’ve talked your ear off about this before. But it really was major.

In 2011–2012, I went from “crying and hyperventilating at the very thought of giving a BJ” to “enthusiastically going down as long as the recipient had their eyes closed or a blindfold on.” And it was only in 2015 that I finally felt able to give a BJ without caring if the recipient was looking.

Of the five (!!) men to whom I gave blowjobs in 2015, only two received my spiel about “hey, I have a weird thing where I don’t like to be looked at during BJs; would you mind turning the light out/closing your eyes/looking the other way?” And both of those times were first times with the partners in question, so it was normal for me to be nervous.

I even caught myself slyly looking up at a partner while his dick was in my mouth recently, and as basic as that is, I can’t recall ever doing that before. The thought of it always previously gave me sooooo much anxiety about how I looked while giving head (slutty, silly, whatever). It felt like a massive step forward to even be able to exchange those two seconds of eye contact.

And hey, guess what? 2015 also brought the first time I ever gave a blowjob with spectators. Our cuddle-pile and emergency threesome at Playground involved me blowing someone while 1–2 other people looked on. And honestly, it didn’t freak me out at all. I barely even thought about it. I was just excited to have a cute boy’s cock in my mouth.

 

2. Threesomes

I had two threesomes in 2015, which is apparently enough that I now warrant the nickname “Threesome Girl.” (Seriously, someone called me this. People are strange.)

Recently I got into a discussion with some coworkers about threesomes, and one of them said, “I don’t think I’d ever have one. It doesn’t seem like it’d be fun.” This amused me because that’s what I used to think, too. Sex with more than two participants just didn’t seem up my alley. I thought it’d feel less intimate, more scattered, and that one person would inevitably feel left out of the action.

I also questioned whether I’d ever find two people who I was actively attracted to, who were also both attracted to each other. It seemed like a longshot at best.

Both of my threesomes thus far were very impromptu, each happening within a couple hours of being suggested, and I think that’s the only way they would’ve worked for me. Given advance notice, I would have panicked and talked myself out of it. “There are too many ways this could go wrong,” I would have thought. But everything went blissfully right.

There was none of the detachment or awkwardness I had feared. Both experiences felt shockingly intimate – sometimes even moreso than sex with only one person. I felt close to the action even at times when I wasn’t directly involved in it.

And though I had long denounced any threesomes where all three participants weren’t scaldingly attracted to each other, that part was actually fine too. Me and Bex don’t have sex with each other or even kiss, and that was perfectly okay because we were both so into the guy we were boning. Me and Georgia don’t have a particularly sexual connection either, but she nonetheless went down on me like a champ, and we both enjoyed it. I’m learning that there are a lot of complicated factors involved in making a sexual experience feel fun, and white-hot attraction isn’t necessarily mandatory (at least, not for me).

 

What sexual fears did you face in 2015?

12 Days of Girly Juice: 3 Fave Encounters

Kate Sloan

When I was mapping out the different categories I wanted to cover for the 12 Days of Girly Juice, I wondered, “How can I possibly narrow down my sexual encounters to just 3 favorites?”

And then I thought about it for a few seconds and realized I knew exactly which 3 encounters I wanted to write about.

 

1. Confidence Fuck

When my 3.5-year-long relationship ended in 2014, we already hadn’t had sex in a few months. And then I went another year without dating or having sex with anyone. So that was rough.

Part of the problem was that my confidence was decimated. I had body anxiety and social anxiety and basically wondered if I was doomed to a life of hermitdom and celibacy.

But then in August, I went on a couple dates with an internet crush of mine, and we hooked up. In the grand scheme of things, it was nothing major, but it felt major. It ended a rut of self-loathing and self-pity that had kept me out of the game for a while, and kind of kickstarted a chain of sexy events.

It was also, y’know, fun and hot and great in its own right. And it definitely stands out as one of my strongest sexual memories of 2015, for reasons both emotional and sexual.

 

2. Dapper Dom Dude

I’ve long suppressed or backburner’ed my kinks, because most of my past partners were either pretty vanilla or even more submissive than me. Nonetheless, I undeniably wanted to be held down and hurt and called names and overpowered.

I had the good fortune of sleeping with a few different dom-y people in 2015; however, the first one has really stuck with me because that experience just felt so new and exciting. We only hooked up a couple times and barely scraped the surface of our kinks, but it was enough to give me a deeper sense of what I was looking for.

I learned I like having my tits slapped. Being called “good girl.” Having my hair pulled. Dark, filthy whispers in between kisses. Being held down while getting fucked hard. Commands like “Come for me.” All of it within a consent-conscious framework, with check-ins before, during, and after.

Well, fuck. How can your sex-brain not undergo a massive shift when all of that happens to you for the first time?

 

3. Emergency Threesome

I had a threesome with a close friend and a guy I’ve had a crush on for years.

In a big, beautiful, empty house that another close friend let us borrow for that express purpose.

It involved cunnilingus, blowjobs, handjobs, nipple play, boobs in faces, scruffy makeouts, smiling, giggling, a Pure Wand, and a voyeuristic cat named Seamus.

I mean. That’s pretty hard to top.

 

What were your favorite sexual adventures in 2015?

12 Days of Girly Juice: 4 Fun Events

Kate Sloan

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I’m so, so lucky to get invited to cool sex-positive events on the regular. One of the key ingredients of happiness is having something to look forward to, and I always do, thanks to these events.

It was hard to choose the 4 that I loved most in 2015, but these were really the ones that transformed my life the most, gave me the most fun and laughter, and brought me together with incredible people.

Tell Me Something Good

I attended my first TMSG in December 2014, as a guest judge – and immediately, I was hooked. It’s a sexy storytelling event; there’s a different theme each month, and attendees can volunteer to tell their best (TRUE) sex story related to the theme. Judges appraise the stories and the best ones win prizes at the end of the night.

Despite there being judges and scores, there is no sense of competition at TMSG. It’s all about community, commonalities and commiseration. Stories can be funny, or sweet, or sad, or strange – or all of the above. The only rules: stick to the theme, stay under 5 minutes (unless you’re really interesting), and keep oppressive -isms and -phobias out of your stories.

I’ve never once had a bad experience at TMSG. Never has someone told a story that made me uncomfortable, or reacted to my stories in a gross way. Getting sexual sagas off my chest at TMSG has become a monthly ritual, a joy I avidly look forward to. The community there is like this cool little club that comes together monthly just to reassure each other: “Yeah, sex is weird. But that’s okay.”

Drunk Feminist Films

I first attended DFF when they screened Fifty Shades of Grey back in April. It’s an idea so simple and yet so genius: a bunch of feminists get together in a movie theatre, feminist drinking game rules are distributed, and everyone (optionally) drinks their way through a gender-problematic movie.

Here are some samples of DFF rules. Drink every time Anastasia Steele tells Christian Grey what to do and he does the exact opposite. Drink every time one of the characters in Bridesmaids does something that would get them arrested (or worse) if they weren’t white. Drink every time a woman in Love Actually sacrifices her happiness to take care of someone else.

But DFF doesn’t just tear down troubling shit; it also celebrates what’s good in the movies it highlights. We were encouraged to twirl tampons in the air and shout “AGENCY!” every time Ana Steele made her own decisions, and we chorused “BFFs!” each time female characters supported one another in Clueless. Even though most of the movies shown at DFF are dumb comedies or dry dramas, I’ve found tears welling up in my eyes at almost every screening, because the feeling of feminist solidarity packed into that cinema is palpable.

A common criticism of the feminist movement is that we’re “too angry.” And yeah, it’s perfectly reasonable to get angry – nay, furious – with the state of gender equality in the world today. But anger is exhausting. Sometimes I just want to laugh and drink and relax in the company of other feminists. That doesn’t make me less of a fighter for the cause; it just makes me human. DFF understands that, which makes it one of my favorite events and most valued spaces of 2015.

DildoHoliday

Seven sex bloggers walk into a beach house…

Nope, that’s not the beginning of a joke. That’s what happened at DildoHoliday. It was a bloggers’ retreat organized by Piph, Bex and Aerie, and it was, without a doubt, one of the highlights of my 2015.

I finally got to meet all these people I had only known through the internet, and they became much more real to me. Those friendships deepened and became some of the most solid and supportive alliances in my life.

For days on end, we laughed, watched porn, posed for nude photos, masturbated, skill-shared, live-tweeted, and lounged around. We made our own dildos, snapped endless sex toy photos, and pranked each other with a stone cherub.

Being around like-minded people is relaxing in its own right, so combine that with an idyllic environment like an Oregon beach house and you’ve got a recipe for a super rejuvenating vacation. I truly feel like these memories and friendships will stick with me for life.

Playground Conference

It’s an oft-repeated piece of wisdom amongst my friend group that sex conferences are usually fun because of the people and the after-hours events, not so much the actual conference sessions. Playground did what few conferences can do: both the sessions and the “extracurriculars” were fun, informative, and enlightening.

It was one of the best weekends of my year. I got to spend time with friends visiting from afar, have big delicious meals at brunch restaurants, and ogle steel dildos in the expo room. I had an impromptu threesome, a sex-tinged hotel-room cuddle pile, and a quiet late night getting sleepily fingered by a dom gentleman. I learned about sex and depression, sex and self-care, sex and gender identity.

At the end of the weekend, I was exhausted, but I also felt pumped up with new knowledge and new experiences. It was, in short, exactly what a sex conference should be.

 

What events rocked your world in 2015?