It’s a question of breeding: Visualizing queer masculinity in bareback pornography

Introduction

In 2007, controversy struck European adult publication GAYeLINE Magazine’s David Awards in Berlin when Treasure Island Media, a studio specializing in gay bareback pornography, was awarded Best US Studio over studios that require condoms (Adams, 2007). Because of this recognition, Titan Media director Bruce Cam refused his lifetime achievement award, issuing the following statement:

I cannot in good conscience accept a lifetime achievement award from an organization that glorifies and promotes bareback content alongside my own … Silence is acceptance, and I can no longer sit by and watch the industry … be destroyed by others seeking financial gain at the expense of performers and the entire gay community. (quoted in Adams, 2007)

Bareback pornography specifically refers to films starting in the 1990s, after the gay pornography industry made condom-use conventional as a response to the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s and early 1990s. Despite recent campaigns to legislate condom-use in pornographic films, such as the 2012 voter-approved legislation requiring condom-use in films produced and filmed in Los Angeles County (Gorman and Lin, 2012), bareback pornography continues to be made and demanded by consumers. There are many US-based gay pornography studios and producers that only make bareback pornography, and several US-based gay pornography studios that initially only featured performers using condoms such as Sean Cody, Corbin Fisher, Chaosmen, and Lucas Entertainment now also produce bareback, or “raw,” scenes in addition to scenes featuring condoms. A primary concern in both scholarly and non-scholarly discussions is the relationship between watching bareback pornography and practising casual bareback sex, and its impact on gay men and the gay community. Less attention, however, has been spent on considering bareback pornography’s form and its impact on the pornographic film genre representing sexual practices, rather than to the pornographic film industry representing sexual groups.

This reading of bareback pornography explores the coding of masculinity and sexual arousal in pornographic film. My goal is not to examine if watching bareback pornography increases the prevalence of barebacking in the gay community, nor to focus on the actions and consequences of the performers and viewers. Instead, I offer this analysis as an exploration of what makes bareback pornography so popular. Following the adage that pornography is about viewing male sexual pleasure (Patton, 1989; Williams, 1989), I will examine how recognizable forms of masculinity are queerly articulated, presenting sexual pleasure visually and discursively, and thereby enhancing the viewing experience. Unlike gay pornographic films that feature condoms, bareback pornography makes the non-visible transfer of bodily fluids, that is, ejaculation while the penis is still inside another man’s anus, possible. My analysis will highlight the role of ejaculate shown in the “cum shot”—the moment of ejaculation, orgasm, and pleasure—in constructing and representing sexualized and desirable masculinity. In particular, this article considers all the performers—both tops (insertive) and bottoms (receptive)—as engaged in masculine sexual activities. I will demonstrate three articulations of masculinity in bareback pornography: first, as athletic and physically active; second, as sacred and procreative; and third, as silent and risky. This article also challenges the relationship between queerness and normativity: instead of queered gender performances, bareback pornography visually articulates queer erotics through recognizable, normative frames of masculinity.

Analyzing pornography

Treasure Island Media (TIM) is a San Francisco-based pornography studio founded in the late 1990s by Paul Morris, who continues to head the studio, and produce and direct films. My analysis is based on 20 TIM films from 1999 to 2009 (see filmography). TIM films are a specific subset of bareback pornography: they feature condomless anal intercourse and sexual acts involving ejaculate, particularly the visible transmission of ejaculate orally and anally between men. While not the first, TIM is one of the most recognized bareback pornography studios making this style of pornography. There are several pornography studios that make bareback pornography replicating the cinematic narratives and structures found in conventional pornography, including an external cum shot, only without condoms.

TIM is also notable because of the amount of scholarly and non-scholarly attention that it receives. Although bareback pornography was being made in the 1990s, most of the films were underground films and not well distributed—including Paul Morris’s earlier work for Bush Creek Media, prior to his founding TIM. Paul Morris became singled out as a bareback pornography producer for functions such as pornography symposiums and public health panel discussions (see Visual AIDS (1999) held at the University of California San Francisco). In the 2000s, TIM films were often excluded from pornography stores (both physical and online locations), from gay pornography industry events such as award shows, and sexual fetish events such as San Francisco’s Folsom Street Fair and Chicago’s Mr International Leather. In academia, Tim Dean (2009) wrote about men who have casual bareback sex, highlighting TIM films in his discussion of representing the subculture of men who have casual bareback sex. In the popular press, King (2012) argues that TIM is one of the studios that mainstreamed bareback pornography.

While it is assumed that viewers of pornography learn from watching pornography, it is not always clear what is learned. It is arguable that pornography informs viewers about technical aspects of sexual intercourse (Jensen, 1996; Patton, 1991) and about gendered relations and structures of sexuality (Jensen, 1996; Kort, 2002). At both of these levels, however, research has shown that the messages are not consistent (Hallam, 2004; Patton, 1991). Anti-porn scholars rely on the argument that pornography is limited to the male gaze, and that male sexuality is inherently violent, dangerous, and socially unjust (Dworkin, 1981; Jensen, 1996; Kendall, 2004). This argument ignores the possibility that male sexuality and masculinity are complicated, and that pornography is a social text that represents society (Dyer, 1985; Kipnis, 1996; Klein, 2006; Patton, 1989; Segal, 2004; Williams, 1989).

Returning to the issue of HIV/AIDS, I do not want to dismiss the interest in pornography and health promotion, but this analysis will not make a pedagogical link between bareback pornography and sexual health, nor about the regulations of the pornographic film industry. This analysis of bareback pornography will engage with the discourse of HIV/AIDS prevention, but it does not begin from the perspective that gay male bodies are—on screen and off—potential vectors of disease. My reading of TIM films focuses on discourses of masculinity as linked to desire, providing insight into the continued growing popularity of TIM films and the articulations of pleasure in film.

Recognizing masculinity and queerness

This article questions how we view and understand codes of masculinity in relation to hegemonic masculinity. Few individuals inhabit hegemonic masculinity; the concept is ideological, and acts as a pillar against which other forms of masculinity are measured (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005: 832). The hegemonic masculine ideal is so strong however, that masculinities and male sexualities are in fact difficult to recognize. Beth Eck (2003) found that when presented with images of nude men and women, both men and women were willing to examine and reflect upon the images of women, but expressed discomfort and uneasiness with the images of men. The range of descriptions for male bodies is more limited than for female bodies because there are few cultural scripts aside from hegemonic masculinity upon which to base descriptions of masculinity and male sexuality.

Scholars such as Angus McLaren (1997) counter a singular mode of masculinity by describing different forms of masculinity – these are usually read as failures, or lacking proper masculinity. The description of different forms and discourses of masculinity follows Foucault’s (1978 [1976]) assertion that revealing discourse is an emancipatory act: power is based in discourse and therefore when discourses are made intelligible, there is the opportunity to challenge them. A queer perspective acknowledges categories, but at the same time, resists confinement to categories such as opposite, failed, or countering forms of masculinity. Non-normative, queer forms of masculinity may still incorporate aspects of hegemonic masculinity, making these masculinities partially recognizable despite their altered forms.

Although hegemonic masculinity is defined in contrast to women (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005; Walker, 2006), it is often acted out and defended in male-only spaces (Walker, 2006). In male-only spaces, women are sometimes invoked in conversation, but one’s masculinity is defined in relation to the other men, with homosexuality being the failure to achieve hegemonic masculinity (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005). Gay pornography presents the possibility of all-male environments that are not forced—such as prison (Mercer, 2004)—making gender differences between the characters based upon character interactions, and not only upon an absence of women. The purpose of this analysis, however, is not to identify the performances of specific queer masculinities. While queer scholars have contemplated queer masculinities that seemingly mimic hegemonic masculinity—namely in bear and leather cultures (Hennen, 2008; Kelly and Kane, 2001; Locke, 1997; McCann, 2001)—these cues are read as dependent upon participation in the subcultures themselves. Tim Dean’s (2009) work on bareback pornography also focuses on identification with a subculture of barebacking. These analyses focus on gender as part of performed, identity-based embodiment, and they maintain a suspicion towards queer masculinities that resemble hegemonic masculinity. I am less invested in the notion of the “barebacker,” because TIM films are not viewed only by individuals identified with a contemporary subculture of barebackers.

I am reading how homoerotic acts are gendered visually as normatively masculine, rather than focusing on how the performers do gendered performance. Effeminate men may perform in TIM films, but this effeminacy is not what queers these men, nor does effeminate performance necessarily make their representation less masculine according to the gendering narratives in TIM films. I argue that part of what makes TIM films visually pleasurable is their depiction of erotic masculinities—masculinities that are familiar and conventionally read as “sexy.” Viewing TIM films as pleasurable is not reliant on identification with barebacking, but on recognition of erotic masculinities highlighted during and by bareback sex. My reading of TIM films using frames of hegemonic masculinity will demonstrate that even normative masculinity fails to maintain its distance from queerness. I am not attempting to minimize the difference between queer and heteronormative in an effort to normalize or naturalize queer bodies, but rather, I hope to demonstrate that discourses of normative masculinity actually produce queer bodies and discourses of queer masculinity.

Recognizing porn as authentic discourse

One feature of pornography that lends itself to discussions of pleasure as well as discussions of medical safety is that of authenticity. Hansen et al. (1991) argue that pornography functions similarly to cinematic ethnography: both reveal a form of reality on screen. “Ethnography is a kind of legitimated pornography, a pornography of knowledge, giving us the pleasure of knowing what had seemed incomprehensible. Pornography is a strange, “unnatural” form of ethnography, salvaging orgasmic bliss from the seclusion of the bedroom” (Hansen et al., 1991: 210). Pornography depicts acts that are part of society, but potentially unspeakable, indescribable, or inappropriate in public. What are depicted are not only the acts themselves, but also discourses associated with those acts—in this case, sexuality, gender, and pleasure. We are compelled to record these acts, to watch these acts, and perhaps to participate in these acts. Therefore, one of the main issues is that of representation: how do we visually represent, or signify the pleasure that is otherwise unknown?

TIM pornographer Paul Morris (1998) argues that it is the responsibility of the pornographer not only to create a product that is commercially viable, but also to point out some form of documentary truth. Citing Hansen et al. (1991), Morris asserts that part of the excitement of watching pornography is recognizing an aspect of “truthful” representation and of the complexity of sexuality on the screen. Morris achieves this stylistically in his films, creating a visual language of authenticity by borrowing from the genre of subculture documentary film, specifically by comparing his films to skateboarding videos of the 1990s (Morris, 1998), and by blurring the boundary between professional and amateur pornography production.

Without denying the possibility of “realness” shown in TIM films, I want to focus on the cinematic construction of authenticity as a method of enhancing visual eroticism. Visually, there is an assumption that homemade or underground pornography is more authentic and erotic for it is less likely to be stylized and manufactured (Klein, 2006; Visual AIDS, 1999; Waugh, 1996). This supposed unawareness of the cinematic medium is marked by bad camera angles, poor lighting, and extraneous noise. All the films viewed for this article presented such moments: cameramen are regularly seen on camera; cameramen audibly comment on what is happening; film equipment can be seen, and camera angles and lighting are compromised by “impromptu” settings. Fucking Crazy (2003) was the only film analyzed that featured a musical score, although a disclaimer on the TIM website states that the background music was put on by the performers themselves.

Most TIM films are presented like documentaries, as if the only direction for the performers is “Have sex!” or that the sex is spontaneously captured on camera. In Meat Rack (2005), director Max Sohl sets up a scene on-screen with text: “20 minutes later, I am called inside to one of the bedrooms. Dawson [performer] is saying goodbye to a couple of the guys. This was not part of the shoot. We had to scramble to catch it on videotape.” The film then cuts to a dimly lit room with Dawson and another performer already engaging in anal intercourse on a bed while other men watch and a second cameraman is seen putting his camera together. In Deeper (2007), Dawson picks up two men at a convention and they have sex in a stairwell. In Cumsloppy Buttholes (2004), Dawson and Jesse O’Toole have sex in the hallway of a hotel. From the camera’s constant swerving back into the hallway, it is clear that they are making sure that they are not caught by unsuspecting hotel guests.

Despite these supposed spontaneous encounters, the sex generally follows a well-established pornographic narrative structure: performers start kissing and undressing, engage in oral intercourse, and then have anal intercourse. Anal intercourse is still presented as the ultimate sexual act. TIM films use this narrative loosely, but with less time leading up to anal intercourse. Also, films such as Meat Rack (2005) and Meat Packing (2006) have performers in several scenes that run together chronologically, as if the cameras just fail to stop filming, and the same performers change partners and start new scenes in new locations. When this occurs, the performers sometimes will skip over steps in the pornographic narrative—performers may kiss and then immediately engage in anal intercourse.

Additionally, not all of the performers are “professional” pornography performers. Some of the performers are not named—not even with stage names, but labeled as “Don’t Show My Face #1” or “Anonymous Donor #2,” and so on—and some of the faces are obscured by hats, or blurred out. These performers work alongside named TIM exclusives (e.g. Dawson, Christian, Jesse O’Toole, Brad McGuire) and mainstream gay pornography performers (e.g. Matt Sizemore, Michael Brandon, and Billy Wild). The studio also prides itself in not featuring “gay-for-pay” performers: the performers have sex with men on and off screen and want to participate in the films (Donam, 2008). We are sometimes shown performers preparing for a scene, or the cameraman or director will ask the performers questions after a scene has completed, such as: “Do you shower after sex usually?” or “What do you like about cum?” Although viewers are aware that these films are produced by a porn studio, the line between professional and amateur pornography is blurred because there are “authentic” elements in the films. Some viewers consider pornography as a fantasy: what appears on screen is the fantasy of the acceptance of queer lives and sexual interests (Kipnis, 1996; Mercer, 2004: 155). The presentation of authenticity in TIM films contributes to this fantasy, making the sexual encounters on-screen seem possible. Performers’ “real selves” and characters are conflated, giving the impression that what is viewed is not performed pleasure, but real pleasure.

Refiguring the cum shot

What is at stake in pornography is the representation of authentic sexual pleasure. The orgasm, or the moment of climax, is understood as the ultimate manifestation of sexual pleasure. For men, orgasm is conflated with ejaculation, even though one can occur without the other (Moore, 2007: 5). In practice, orgasm is often indescribable; during orgasm, men’s eyes are often closed and the pleasure is an inward experience (Lorentzen, 2007: 79). In pornography, orgasm is made visible and recognizable by the cum shot. The cum shot is easily represented in male masturbation, or solo, pornography, but for intercourse, it requires that the top stop intercourse and ejaculate for the camera. Because orgasm signals climax, the cum shot also becomes signified as the closure of the sexual narrative. This move is evident in both heterosexual and male homosexual pornography, and the cum shot is widely understood as essential to pornographic films featuring men (Ziplow, 1977: 34).

While the cum shot is understood as the signifier of male sexual pleasure, it is unclear how viewers understand this pleasure. Linda Williams (1989: 101–102) argues that the cum shot perverts male sexual pleasure, as it transforms physical pleasure into visual pleasure. Cindy Patton (1989: 101, 105) notes that with the advent of queer theory in the 1980s, the desirability of the cum shot becomes unclear: is the male viewer identifying with the performer ejaculating, or is he also turned on by the ejaculating performer? Patton (1988: 74) also argues that because of the increase in non-pornographic gay cinema, gay pornography, which previously carried the burden of being the only cinematic representation of gay sexuality, shifted its narrative structure and began following heterosexual pornographic conventions more closely—in particular, the adoption of the cum shot as a narrative standard. This narrative not only normalizes gay sex by aligning its narrative to heterosexual sex, but it also creates a hierarchy of sexual acts, with anal penetration marked as the most sexually pleasurable. Even though gay pornography features solo scenes, solos are often perceived as secondary to scenes featuring anal intercourse. Part of this hierarchy is tied to the sexual identity of the performers: any man can masturbate on camera, and it is only the viewing of masturbation by other men that makes it queer. Engaging in anal intercourse forces the performers to actually participate in gay behavior.

My examination into masculinities in TIM films is shaped by how ejaculate is represented in the cum shot. I use the term “ejaculate” in equivalence to “cum,” denoting the emission from the penis that is different from leaky discharges such as pre-ejaculate or urine, and physically includes sperm and semen. In western discourse, informed by science, there are distinctions between sperm, semen, and ejaculation (Moore, 2007: 5). In pornography, however, we see that these three are conflated: all of these specific objects are grouped together through the slang term “cum.”

Although the cum shot is a convention of on-screen sexual narratives, not all pornographic representations of sexual pleasure require it. Some genres of pornography challenge the cum shot by showing pleasure experienced through sexual acts not involving masturbation or intercourse, such as spanking or piss-play. TIM, however, maintains the importance of the cum shot, but focuses on the ejaculate, rather than the moment of ejaculation. TIM films do not rely upon ejaculation as the marker of a performer’s climactic pleasure. In TIM films, the bottom does not always ejaculate, but time is spent documenting his pleasure: cues for the bottom’s climactic pleasure include groaning and facial expressions. Max Holden only bottoms during Fucking Crazy (2003) and he does not ejaculate at any point during the film or the scenes in the DVD special features. In Eat it Hot (2000), one bottom states that he does not need to ejaculate in order to experience pleasure; part of his pleasure is derived from receiving ejaculate, that is, having the top ejaculate while still inside him.

Another form of resistance to the cum shot is what Patton and Morris call the “anti-cum shot,” when the top ejaculates while still penetrating the bottom (Visual AIDS, 1999). This cum shot is instead marked audibly with groaning and rapid breathing, or visually with the increased rapidity and intensity of the tops’ thrusting, muscles visibly tensing up, and facial expressions. The “anti-cum shot” is also marked textually. The top can announce the impending ejaculation, but does not bother pulling out. The top can also confirm having ejaculated when asked by the cameraman or another performer. Starting around 2004, TIM films even included captions indicating that ejaculation had occurred: for example, “Zak shoots a big load in Sean” in Cumsloppy Buttholes (2004).

In TIM films, the cum shot does not necessarily mark the end of a scene, particularly with group scenes. Tops may ejaculate more than once in a single scene. Also, the sexual narrative does not end with ejaculation. The scene is not marked by the emitting of ejaculate from the penis, but rather, from the transfer of ejaculate until its ultimate consumption. The bottom may push the ejaculate out of his anus, but this may be collected in a glass and a performer—usually the bottom who just pushed out the ejaculate—will drink it. Or, a top may suck the ejaculate out of the bottom’s anus (aka felching) and either swallow it himself, or kiss the bottom, passing the ejaculate from mouth to mouth (aka snowballing).

Ejaculate may also have a role later in the film. In Breeding Mike O’Neill (2002) and Dawson’s 50 Load Weekend Part 1 (2005) and Part 2 (2006), men masturbate into containers and the ejaculate is saved for scenes later in the films. In Breeding Mike O’Neill (2002), ejaculate is frozen in a shot-glass, creating a “devil’s dick,” a piece of frozen ejaculate that is used like a dildo and the melted ejaculate, once inside the bottom’s anus, also serves as lubricant for anal intercourse. In Dawson’s 50 Load Weekend Part 1 (2005) and Part 2 (2006), ejaculate collected earlier in the films is inserted into Dawson’s anus using turkey baster (in Part 1) and a funnel (in Part 2). Viewers may find the cum shot of the earlier masturbatory acts desirable, but in the films’ narratives, these masturbatory emissions are means to a more erotic end. One exception is 1999’s Breed Me, which is bookended with a clip of a man pushing ejaculate out of his anus into a measuring cup. Although this scene is not resolved with the ejaculate transferred into a body, it does highlight the fact that fluid transfer had occurred at some point. Morris points out that even though the end scene was not a result of the sex party in the film (Visual AIDS, 1999), this break in linear narrative does not really matter, for what is more important is the visual evidence that transfer and pleasure had occurred. The moment of ejaculation is therefore not the climactic moment, for although it may be a moment of physical climax, it does not mean the conclusion of the sexual narrative. Again, pleasure is marked by the transfer of ejaculate from one body to another.

Masculinity as athletic and physical

A focus on ejaculate does not detract from the importance of physical, solid, and active bodies in bareback pornography. In visual culture, Richard Dyer (1982) finds that images of men usually feature men in motion. If men are still, they are often holding props that suggest some form of action—the model simply pauses for the sake of the camera. Even without props, Dyer argues that the male body is posed with the promise of action through displays of flexed musculature or an erect penis (1982: 71). This concern with displaying action, or the ability to quickly become active, responds to a fear of appearing passive and feminine. Bordo (1999), however, questions how we understand passivity as feminine: we use terms such as inviting, or receiving, or waiting, but these are actually actions. In other words, we need to reconsider how we read gendered activity.

Gay sex problematizes gender roles because of the assumption that both masculine and feminine roles must be present for sexual intercourse—the bottom, as receptive partner, is assumed to be passive and feminine. This femininity is also tied to the sexuality of the performer: Jeffrey Escoffier notes how heterosexual-identified gay pornography performers who initially only do solo scenes or who are tops, are pressured to bottom to fulfill the fantasy of a muscular top bottoming, of “the potential transgression of the masculine code, which a top, to some degree represents” (2009: 307). Brian Pronger (1990), however, considers the bottom during anal sex as masculine, because not only does he have his own penis, but he also receives a second penis, or phallus. He also considers the receptive partner as athletic: the physical act of receiving the penis is a feat (1990: 139).

The films of TIM feature such an understanding of the performers. The tops are often referred to as “studs,” and regardless of their physical stature—while many of the performers are muscled, many do not have “perfect” bodies, nor do they all have large penises—they are treated as desirable sexual partners. As for the bottoms, not only are they expected to “take it,” but much of the sex is also aggressive in nature. Receiving ejaculate is also introduced as a skill. Many performers describe the bottom as an active partner, “milking” the top, rather than only “taking,” or being given, the ejaculate from the top. If a top ejaculates into a bottom’s anus, the bottom can push the ejaculate back out by flexing his anal muscles. Bottoming is also positioned as an athletic act that requires preparation. Performers are sometimes shown warming up with dildos before scenes. In “Max Holden and His Dildos,” a DVD special feature scene of Fucking Crazy (2003), performer Max Holden cools down after being the bottom in a gang bang (group sex featuring one or two bottoms with multiple tops)—the content of the film—using dildos to help him push out all of the ejaculate from his anus, which he collects in a dish and drinks.

Sex is also made athletic in that it is rationalized through quantification, or measurement. Pleasure for both tops and bottoms is related to the number of partners shared, particularly for bottoms who are praised for collecting and containing a high quantity of ejaculate, measured in “loads,” or ejaculate from a single ejaculation. Films such as Dawson’s 20 Load Weekend (2004), Dawson’s 50 Load Weekend Parts 1 and 2 (2005; 2006) eroticize the quantity of ejaculate that the star—the bottom—can take in a fixed amount of time, highlighted by a counter that appears each time Dawson receives a load, and his talking about wanting more loads. Being a bottom is measurable and requires a particular form of physical stamina. The work of the bottom, getting and containing the ejaculate, is a central theme in all of the films: when there are multiple performers in the room, they often make comments about wanting to see the bottom take in more ejaculate, and that they themselves want to feel the ejaculate, functionally as lubricant, when it is their turn to top. Pleasure is therefore performed and experienced not only by the top, but also by the bottom. TIM films also alter the sexual narrative from conventional gang-bang scenes: conventional gang bang films highlight group cum shots—albeit usually one top at a time—onto the bottom’s body or face, with the bottom having his cum shot last. This suggests that pleasure for the bottom is just one of several ejaculations, rendering it similar to the cum shots performed by the tops. Most TIM bottoms do not ejaculate, so the pleasure derived from fluid transfer is not simply equal to cum shots: the bottoms succeed in achieving the ultimate pleasure through an act that is not matched by the tops’ actions.

By refiguring the cum shot, I also agree with Morris’s argument that TIM films do not present hypermasculinity (Visual AIDS, 1999). “Hyper”-masculinity suggests a performance that attempts to compensate for what is interpreted as gender misalignment: the male body performs an exaggerated masculinity in order to mimic hegemonic masculinity, or to reconcile feminine acts or performances. In TIM films, however, the performers are not queering masculinity through performance. The athleticism of the bottom is not performed – athleticism is required of TIM film bottoms. What is queer is the presentation of an alignment of masculinities in a body performing a homoerotic act: what was once an act of effeminacy is now a masculine act. By challenging the representation of male sexual pleasure, TIM films male bottoms engage in masculine acts, not performing in a masculine manner. Discourses of masculinity in TIM films, however, are not limited to queered acts, but they are also articulated symbolically, through visible and invisible—or absent—representations.

Procreation, power, and phallus

Men engaging in bareback sex often discuss the exchange of fluids as a moment of great intimacy (Holmes and Warner, 2005: 13–14; Holmes et al., 2006: 323; Schilder et al., 2008: 671–672). The pleasure experienced through ejaculate transfer is not necessarily physically felt, but in pornography, it can be seen. Fluid transfer is pleasurable because ejaculate is shown and described as sacred and important, particularly through a metaphor of procreation. This metaphor is also linked through language to a discourse of HIV/AIDS. TIM films often use terms referring to procreation such as “breeding,” “mating,” and “planting seed” when describing the transfer of ejaculate. These terms are part of barebacking lingo: contracting HIV, or seroconversion, was compared to pregnancy in the 1990s (Visual AIDS, 1999). Even though gay sex does not result in procreation, the sight of sexual intercourse anchored by the performers using phrases such as “breed me” suggests that sex is erotic and a special act because the climax (fluid transfer) is powerful and can result in new life (see Dean (2009) for a further reading of “breeding,” HIV, and kinship amongst men who have casual bareback sex). The use of this procreation metaphor, however, does not mean that viewers are watching acts of seroconversion. Instead, the metaphor provides language through which to understand and describe barebacking as an erotic discourse. The acts of “breeding” or “planting seed” refer not to sexual intercourse, but to fluid transfer—the focus is on the ejaculate, which may or may not carry the HIV virus.

Rather than focus on the actual potential of HIV being present, this reading considers how ejaculate is a symbol of erotic power—its meaning is not limited to a connection to HIV/AIDS. Just as we cannot separate visually (without a microscope) semen from sperm, we cannot “see” HIV (or any other sexually transmitted infection) in the ejaculate during a cum shot. Ejaculate has long been understood as a sacred symbol of power through procreation and fertility in Western society and science (Moore, 2007; Visual AIDS, 1999; Schilder et al., 2008). Morris claims that his performers participate in a celebration of the “sacredness of sperm” (Visual AIDS, 1999). Morris describes each moment of fluid emission as orgasm, even when ejaculate is pushed out of a performer’s anus: “his body is literally ejaculating. His ass, his entire body becomes a phallus and it’s ejaculating the sacred sperm. That’s what’s going on” (Visual AIDS, 1999). In other words, Morris understands his framing and style of filmmaking as highlighting this act—this celebration of sperm—because sperm is generally sacred, and not only because the ejaculate could contain HIV.

The importance of ejaculate is demonstrated through the actions of the TIM performers: they drink it, pass it between one another—often through kissing, even lick it up off of surfaces such as the floor, where it may have spilled. When the bottoms in TIM films tell their tops to “stick it in,” it is often unclear to what “it” refers. Because the sexual narrative in TIM films only concludes with the transfer of ejaculate, rather than the moment of ejaculation, it is arguable that “it,” when used ambiguously, can refer to the penis and/or to the ejaculate. Ejaculate is also a tangible symbol of masculinity (Holmes et al., 2006: 323), but there is something—perhaps uncomfortably—intimate and normative about this reference: it reads similarly to the experience of heterosexual couples trying to reproduce through procreative sex. Ejaculate—not the penis—is the symbol of sexual power.

Simone de Beauvoir theorized that women, symbolized by fluids, are immanent, and they achieve transcendence by receiving the phallus from men through sex (1989 [1952]: 391). Luce Irigaray (1985: 113) argues, however, that ejaculate embodies a strange status of solid-fluid, salvaging it from being fluid, or considered feminine. For Irigaray, the psychoanalyst is interested in the transformation of fluid to solid, from milk-femaleness to penis-maleness (1985: 113). Julia Kristeva goes further, arguing that abject (bodily) fluid, such as breasts’ milk causing separation of the child from mother, is a substance of power—it establishes the boundaries of the self (1982: 1–3, 10). In the context of gay pornography, the power and symbol of the phallus is actually located in the fluid—the ejaculate that can be visually both pleasurable and abject—and not the sperm or the penis.

The penis can never fully be the phallus because it only symbolizes the potential for power (Aydemir, 2007: 37; Dyer, 1982: 71)—power that is momentary and leaves its mark. Ejaculate is not only the result of the moment of orgasm, but it is an articulation of pleasure, a reminder, and a remnant (Hallam, 2004: 72). The moment of orgasm is still important—it is uncontrollable and is irrational (Lorentzen, 2007: 74; Scuglia, 2004: 186). Some of the anti-cum shots presented in TIM films are results of this lack of control over ejaculate; ejaculate cannot be willed into displaying itself. But once ejaculation occurs, Holmes and Warner (2005: 13–14) argue that fluid exchange provides an opportunity for a connection beyond orgasmic pleasure. This authority and power of ejaculate is fleeting: it is elusive for it can leak out of places, it can dry up, and upon oral consumption it is almost irretrievable.

I do not want to belabor the notion of psychic power and the fluid-as-phallus. Again, I argue that the cum shot is part of a visual discourse of pleasure. For some men, ejaculate is simply fun to play with and therefore symbolically, visibly, and tangibly pleasurable (see quote from informant in Schilder et al., 2008: 671). The non-visible power attributed to ejaculate, however, is noteworthy. If ejaculate is a visible and tangible representation of some form of sacred power that is impossible to pinpoint, then it is no surprise that viewers are drawn to films that explicitly and playfully display this masculine power literally on screen.

Silent and risky masculinity

In terms of masculinity, thinking about HIV/AIDS provides an interesting discourse through which to consider bareback pornography: masculinity as a form of protest and risk-taking. Eric Rofes (2002) describes how defiant expressions of masculinity and sexuality are desirable and exciting, particularly with regards to defying the medicalization and rationalization of gay male sexuality. As mentioned earlier, bareback pornography has sparked a large debate about the representation of the effects of HIV/AIDS on bodies and sexual behaviors. The films of TIM make no mention of sexual health—this active and heated debate occurs outside of the films themselves: in journalistic accounts, in online message boards and comments sections, in academic scholarship, and at industry and industry-related events. This silence can itself be interpreted as masculine, but not because it is queer. Rather, silence is desirable because it invokes normatively masculine risk. Haig (2006) and Holmes et al. (2008) argue that silence, particularly silence around the issue of risk, is a form of masculinity. The masculine person does not need to discuss everything, especially not one’s feelings, and therefore sexual encounters—particularly those with anonymous partners—become risky.

If we only see pleasure on screen, however, how can risk be considered part of the text? Within porn studies, in addition to the three main cinematic gazes of (1) actor to actor, (2) actor to off-screen object/person, and (3) actor to viewer, there is a fourth gaze considered: the gaze of society upon the viewer, or the perception of the gaze from society (Patton, 1988: 73). Contemporary pornography viewers are likely familiar with HIV/AIDS discourses, the risks involved with bareback sex, and that studio-made gay pornography made after 1990 conventionally includes condoms (Patton, 1996; Watney, 1987). Watching TIM films, there is a sense that pleasure should be derived from the lack of knowing whether HIV/AIDS—or any other sexually transmitted infection—is present on the screen. The lack of discussion about sexual health from the performers makes them masculine and desirable because the viewers understand such actions as risky, especially without discussion. Sexual health risk is acknowledged in Dawson’s 50 Load Weekend Part 2 (2006), though not by the performers. In the last scene, Antonio Montrez and Jack Forest put on condoms before having sex with Dawson. As Montez is putting on his condom, the screen moves to close-up, goes into slow motion, and captions appear:

Ok. We know what you are thinking. Yes, this scene has condoms. It was the only way we could get these big dicks in Dawson’s hole. Trust us on this one. The ending is really good. These tops will be unable to resist Dawson’s raw hole.

Risk in TIM films is established for the viewers because of the unknown health statuses of the performers on screen—TIM does not publish the HIV-statuses of its performers or whether it has a testing policy. Although the heterosexual pornography industry relies on testing and knowing the HIV-status of performers (a standard established after the gay pornography industry began its safer sex campaigns), the gay pornography industry uses condoms, which does not require testing so viewers do not know the HIV-status of performers (Escoffier, 2009). While Dean argues that lipodystrophy—a loss of fat that produces scarring—in the buttocks of some performers presents physical markers of taking HIV medications (2009: 127), and some TIM film performers have biohazard sign tattoos, these visual markers are never confirmed. Naïve viewers would not necessarily catch these markers, whereas the transfer of bodily fluid is conventionally understood as risky behavior. Even if viewers assume that all TIM film performers are HIV-positive (a common assumption), they are likely aware that there are different strains of HIV, meaning that bareback sex could still lead to a type of seroconversion.

Viewers are also assumed to believe that all pornography performers are strangers, and the possibility of intimacy is established through bareback sex and fluid transfer. This possibility, however, defies the assumption that intimacy is formed through emotional or intellectual relationships linked to normative and moral models of kinship and relationship-making—in other words, dating and marriage. Some non-TIM bareback pornographic films, such as Bacchus Releasing’s Bareback Riders (2002), advertise “Real Boyfriends!” as a method of informing the viewers that any moral concern is unnecessary. There is little contestation over lifetime partners having condomless sex, but performers in pornographic films are assumed to not be in monogamous relationships with one another off screen. There is also still the stereotype that a majority of gay men—especially pornographic film performers—have casual sex partners, even when in relationships (Visual AIDS, 1999). TIM also openly recruits men to become performers in its films, confirming the assumption that the performers do not know one another.

The blurring between professional and amateur performer is important here—there is no distinction between character and real life because the sex is real. Again, TIM does not publicize information about the HIV testing of its performers. Many message board participants, blog commentators, and pornographic film performers, including former TIM performer Billy Wild, focus on wanting access to this information about performers from ALL studios featuring bareback sex scenes, even if performers only perform in a single bareback scene and no longer perform in bareback pornography (Joeblow69, 2003, 2004; QMN, 2008). The overarching assumption is that performers do not have information about one another and are not practicing any form of sexual safety. Studies, however, demonstrate that men who have bareback sex negotiate sexual safety to varying degrees and are aware of the different levels of risk involved when excluding condoms (Bauermeister et al., 2009; Carballo-Dieguez and Bauermeister, 2004; Holmes and Warner, 2005), but any form of negotiation or discussion is never shown on film or in TIM’s public materials such as its website. TIM plays with this lack of knowledge, and creates pleasurable films that facilitate the translation of silence to risk and then to transgression.

Conclusion

We must continually ask ourselves what cinematic images mean and what makes them notable. Regardless of the motivations of TIM performers, what is presented is a drive for pleasure, including a certain pleasure from performing for others to see. Gay men’s bodies have been medicalized and demonized, especially since the HIV/AIDS epidemic, but their bodies and bodily fluids not only matter, they are also fun. For some men, ejaculate is simply fun to play with and therefore symbolically, tangibly, and visually pleasurable. This pleasure is also nostalgic—barebacking on screen presents both a challenge to contemporary public health recommendations to gay men as well as a form of sex that invokes pleasure without concern for HIV/AIDS. Gay pornographic films made in the USA prior to 1990 that did not conventionally feature condom use were initially re-marketed as “pre-condom classics,” and today are labeled as featuring “classic bareback sex.” In other words, despite the cinematic structures of past pornographic films, today’s viewers may watch them with a contemporary gaze that incorporates the concept of “barebacking,” which includes knowledge of HIV/AIDS. Cinematic conventions are reinterpreted to today’s standards, even with more produced, studio-made pornography.

Here, I must admit my contribution to the scholarly and non-scholarly over-emphasis on TIM films. TIM films are not representative of all bareback pornography, and we need critical analyses about bareback pornography in general. TIM films are still important because of their presence in today’s distribution channels. Pornography today is largely distributed online rather than by home video, and while some may still purchase full films, many films are divided and sold/rented as scenes. The internet also allows individuals to view film clips randomly—people may not actually seek out bareback pornography, but they may still watch if they come across it. The use of clips on the internet also means that users may be less aware of the studios that produce the film clips. This means that TIM films are as likely to be viewed as other films because different clips may be viewed together in a single viewing session. It is not enough to simply question how pornography fits into public health agendas by asking individuals if and how frequently they view pornography (see Stein et al., 2012). This search for correlation only continues the dominant discourse that gay citizenship and sexuality, and by extension bareback pornography, is tied to—even dependent on—public health and HIV/AIDS prevention.

Haig (2006: 871) notes that in order to address issues of sexual health, we need to take into account different cultural codes and how different communities understand sex. Pornography provides a method for us to exhibit and reveal ourselves as well as to find images that turn us on, that answer our questions about who we (queers) are. Public health and identity-based arguments about bareback pornography and sex maintain that queer bodies and queer sexual activities are threatening to society, but this is not the case. TIM films threaten to co-opt hegemonic masculinity from hetereosexuals, presenting hegemonic masculinity as hybrid, as queered. The threat is that the pursuit of pleasure—of happiness—for queers is through the same acts as those of non-queers. As Cindy Patton reminds us:

There is only one dangerous act, being fucked without a condom, that sole act, not coincidentally, which is invoked by the national pedagogy as the citizen’s “freedom”—having the license to fuck without a condom is the new, all-American fantasy of heterosexuality rescued from queerness. (1996: 155)

Bareback pornography challenges our ideas about masculinity, desire, and sexuality. Cindy Patton argues that “sexuality emerges in action—participation in and observation of prohibitions and pleasure—and through “reading”—other bodies, medical texts, popular press accounts, how-to books, pornography” (1996: 142). My analysis embraces a model of non-normativity, but at the same time does not reject normative frameworks and discourses for analysis. In fact, I argue that queerness can be read through normative frameworks, rather than from oppositional readings. Pornography is not transgressive because it shows acts that challenge public expressions of sexuality—that is its function (Patton, 1996; Paasonen, 2011). TIM films are not only exciting because of their challenge to safer sex practices, but also because they push the boundaries of cinematic sex and masculinity. This reading of TIM films pays special attention to the bottom as a figure exhibiting normative masculinity, rather than focusing on the bottom’s individual ego realized by receiving phallic power (see Dean (2009) and Bersani (2011) for examples of psychoanalytic readings).

Models of resistance often neglect the complex relationship between queer bodies and their sexual lives. It is often assumed that queer folks will appear contrary to normative sexuality and gender identity, that homoeroticism opposes heteronormative eroticism. This analysis of TIM films and their representations of ejaculate demonstrates that queered masculine bodies involve aspects of normative masculinity. This is not unusual in gay pornography: Ramakers argues that Tom of Finland images copied symbols of hegemonic masculinity and “developed hybrid signs that could no longer be coupled in any straightforward manner to heterosexual masculinity” (2000: 237–238). By examining bareback pornography for hybrid signs of gender and sexuality, we can better open a dialogue about how gay men negotiate sexual health safety as well as pleasure, intimacy, and sexual citizenship. TIM films visually mark homoerotic acts as normatively masculine by presenting their performers as athletic, risk-taking, and honoring the sacred power of ejaculate. Rather than read TIM films as a reintroduction of normative gender in queer narratives, I argue that these texts destabilize what was thought of as hegemonic, normalizing, and natural. Queerness should not be read only as a project that visibly rejects hegemonic normativity because this naturalizes the oppositional reading. Therefore, queerness may not be so far away from “normal” after all.