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I try to keep my rants on here to a minimum and I try not to solicit anyone for anything. I understand that I sometimes bring forward issues here and offer an opinion. I apologize if I have ever offended anyone or if I have disappointed anyone by straying away from the sort of levity and sexuality that I’m sure you come here for. And I apologize if the rant/solicitation that comes up feels inappropriate for this environment. You’re more than welcome to unfollow. And I apologize for how personal this gets, but I really cannot think of any other way to communicate how important this is to me.

Recently, such institutions as Planned Parenthood and Title X were threatened with the possibility of losing funding. These organizations continue to face this threat, even after the major budget vote that took place. I don’t care about your opinion on abortion, because these institutions offer far more than this service alone. For some people, this will be the only place they will get correct information on their sexual/reproductive health and rights. These organizations offer STD testing and a wide variety of other services that are simply irreplaceable.

But some argue that these are very replaceable, that normal clinics exist and that there is no need to “dump funding” into these institutions. It’s very true that you can get an STD test at a normal health center, you can find reproductive information online, and that none of these other options are connected with abortion. This is all very true. 

However, I would argue that these places are simply not prepared for the unwritten aspects of this job. Perhaps I am narrow in my own experience and from the positive feedback that I have heard from a wide variety of people who used Planned Parenthood and other Title X-related institutions for these purposes. But, by the same token, I cannot help but feel that if these clinics could honestly do the job that Planned Parenthood does, Planned Parenthood would simply cease to exist out of a lack of necessity. I don’t think that a normal health center is equipped for the job that Planned Parenthood must take on.

Last year, I had an STD scare. My partner, at the time, found out from his former partner that she had Herpes II. Although I had not exhibited any symptoms, I was still horrified. And, with no Planned Parenthood around, I decided to make an appointment with my University’s student health center to get tested. 

The days before my appointment were inconceivably difficult. I was tense, I was nervous. I overreacted to even the slightest blemish on my body. I researched the virus, the symptoms, the medications. I wanted to be fully prepared before my appointment and I made sure that I was so. 

My appointment began in the basement of the health center in the office of one of the nurses. She had me sit down and repeat to her my concerns. I had no issue with this. I told her about the present situation. I told her I was not exhibiting any symptoms, but that I had found that there was a window in which I would not show these symptoms and I wanted to get tested. My partner, who did not attend my school, was waiting outside for support. He had made his appointment for a few days after mine, at a Planned Parenthood near his home.

I was very clear with her what I wanted: a test for Herpes II. But, she insisted she had to ask me some questions. Which was fine. I understand that it’s standard procedure. However, the next question came completely out of left field, “have you had sexual relations with someone of the same gender?”

I told her I had, but that I was sure beyond a doubt that I had not contracted anything. All of my prior partners either had been tested or simply had not been with anyone else before me. I had been, up until this point, very careful. I explained to her that what had happened was simply a hiccup, a sudden misstep in a history of being incredibly careful.

She responded coldly, “I’m putting you down for an HIV test, too.” She looked me over for a second before adding, “and gonorrhea and chlamydia as well." 

I understand that was she was doing was simply trying to eliminate the possibility of another STD. But I wasn’t showing symptoms. And, more importantly, she didn’t ask. It wasn’t an offer, it was mandated. And it was solely on the basis that I had engaged in sexual relations with a woman. 

I really can’t put words to how she spoke to me. Her demeanor, her tone, her behavior. It seemed strictly business to her, while I was clearly at an incredibly precarious place. I could feel myself trembling through the whole consultation. I had started crying when I told her that I was normally so much more careful. She didn’t offer any condolences. She didn’t even offer me a tissue. 

When I told her I was humiliated and concerned, she told me, "there’s really nothing to worry about. If you have herpes, you just have to stay on a prescription to keep down the symptoms.” I looked across her desk and saw a picture of her daughter. Young, beaming, radiantly innocent. I wondered how she would feel to one day hear from her daughter that a nurse at her University – a place where she had let her daughter finally leave from under her wing, a place where safety and support is expected – had told her in a deadpan voice that she would just have to be on a medication for the rest of her life. Like it was no big deal. Because, you know, she clearly brought it upon herself.

I got sent to another room to get the blood-work done. The women in the lab didn’t say much to me, just pricked and stuck. Which was fine until they asked me for my insurance. I had two cards and I was not entirely sure which one to give them. 

“Looks like you’re going to have to call Daddy,” one said with a sneer.

They watched as I tried to keep my composure while calling my father and tried not to give away exactly what I was getting blood-work for. I assured him I was fine. I was mortified. I could not believe that I had just heard that. 

By the time I had settled everything and walked outside with my partner, I was in tears. I found out a week later that I was negative for everything, as was my partner (who elected to be tested for everything else when he was given the choice to). It was a relief, but I could never really get over how I had been treated that day. 

I’m not asking for pity here. As traumatic as the experience was, I am using it instead as evidence and not a plea for attention. I’m asking that you support Planned Parenthood and Title X programs because they, unlike a regular health clinic, are trained in the lesser known, but sometimes more important, aspects of processes just as this. 

My friends who used Planned Parenthood were granted the sort of mercy, sympathy, and dignity that I was denied in my experience at my University’s clinic. The environment at such institutions is, as opposed to my experience, non-judgmental. A gentler hand is extended to those who need to be handled gently, whether they are coping with the sort of scare I had, handling a pregnancy, or seeking out information on their sexuality that they cannot find anywhere else. People who work for Planned Parenthood and these other organizations are trained to exhibit the sort of qualities that people in these situations absolutely need to witness. 

So, I ask that you write to your legislature to support these programs. I ask that you help to push to widen Planned Parenthood’s scope and provide for more locations. And, if you disagree with me, I simply ask that you treat the programs and those who use them with respect. 

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Let’s pretend the perfect breasts aren’t there for a second. They would make my answer as to why I love this woman too obvious.

But let’s go over that little cat that ate the canary grin she pulls off time and time again in her pictures. Her cute little face. Her adorable little ‘tude. 

She hasn’t turned up on here in a while. It’s probably because there are only so many ways I can say I want this woman to be my girlpet before it gets played. But, oh, it still rings true. 

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The power play here is incredible. For as amazing total and complete submission by a good girl is, there is something so sexy and playful about a submissive that bites back. Sure, most dominant partners can’t stand it after a certain point. But, hey, a little brattiness always throws a little flavor into the pot.

And the pre-Colombian art tattoo (sue me if it’s not, some Maya or Aztec or what have you could’ve so made that) on his arm is just killing me. Their stuff is always so strangely, primally erotic. 

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“And in the dark, we will take off our clothes and they’ll be lacing fingers through the notches in your spine and when all is breaking everything that you could keep inside.”

donttellmyboyfriend:

OMG! 3 to 1? Umpf…

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I have an interesting relationship with danger. I like to push myself to a place of uncertainty. There’s almost something calming about total surrender to the unknown.

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Texts with the Southern Gentleman:

Me: I have that George Michael song stuck in my head and I can’t get it out for the life for me.

SG: Which one?

Me: Um. The one that goes do da do do, do da do do, do da do do do, do do do do do do do doooo.

SG: It’s really sad that I know exactly what you’re talking about.

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Need.

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I have a terrible habit of doing this when I am about to get what I know will be a particularly harsh spanking. It’s almost like a reflex, because consciously I know not to do it. EIther way, it never ends well.

kindlybeatingher:

You know better than to grab me like that slut.  You just made it much worse for you

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People say there’s no chemistry in pornography. And, in a lot of cases, porn can be incredibly fake and impersonal. You can tell that the actors probably, if they saw each other on the street, wouldn’t immediately imagine each other naked. They wouldn’t try to pick each other up at a bar.

But you’ve got photos like this that serve as a counterexample. Just look at them. They’re enjoying each other. They’re having fun. They’re exploring each other. So, y’know, don’t jump to conclusions. Porn can be surprising.

gifsbythesalad:

Stoya Heat