Could one be said to consent to whatever happened during that time?

Sort of like...consensual S&M without a safe word.

I was thinking about that. I'm sure that the boys are watching the show, thinking "oh, that's so awesome, a hot girl guaranteed to sleep with you no matter what" But, I doubt that they would think that it was so hot if a male active was programmed to sleep with a male client.

That's pretty much what I meant here. But maybe I didn't say it so well.

Man, I'm enjoying this discussion. In a not-having-seen-the-damn-show-yet kinda way. Very interesting stuff, altogether.

I'm surprised, a little, that nobody's yet mentioned Tara and Lethe's bramble, as that struck me as a resonance before the Katrina thing did (although the Katrina thing may be a better parallel).

Also, I love Emily (and Teppy) and am enjoying reading their posts. And I especially love that Emily, like me, is clearly finding all this is making her think about fanfic tropes a lot, and ask questions about the intersection of acceptability/culpability/impact-in-the-wider-world yadayadacomplexity cakes between mass-produced and widely-consumed media about women pitched at men, and home-made, niche-market media about men pitched at women.

Y'know, not that I have a thesis, or any answers. Mostly I just have Head-Go-Boom, with a side of guilt.

Head-Go-Boom, with a side of guilt.

We should start a club with that name.

nods

I'm seeing a glitterball and insanely pretty cage dancers of various genders, and all the walls filled with shelves upon shelves of books about gender, sexuality, race, able-bodiedness, violence and privilege. Kinda like the bastard child of a gay club and a really awesome coffeeshop.

...ah. Maybe you didn't mean that kind of club? But...glitter! Glitterati! Literati! Cliterati! Oooh, the sign on the door could say all three at once, alternately, depending on how the neon lit up...

plots new career as owner of club

I'd visit that club.

That kind of club will work just fine!

nods thoughtfully.

...I'm thinking a lot of Big Band numbers and smoky torch songs in the background, or maybe a live band, and a really awesome selection of cupcakes, coffees and cocktails. And bacon candy. And tapas. And great big wing back armchairs, and loveseats, and comfy sofas. Lots of velvet and gold and crazy props, like we've raided the props room of an Opera house (thinking of one of my favourite restaurants in London's Theatre district)...

Hmmm.

And costumes on display. Really melodramatic over-the-top costumes from famous operas: Devils, and Harlequins, and Courtesans and Valkyries, Kings and Queens,Shepard Girls and Masked Bravos. Soldiers and Highwayman. Zanies and Assassins and Ghosts oh my.

a practice of "deading" (corpsing? something like that*), in which someone would take something to render them incapable of voluntary movement and then, er, offer themselves up for whatever.

This was totally a plot on Law & Order!

Glitterati! Literati! Cliterati!

"What's that stuff? I didn't come here for glitter. I'm looking for a man who loves 19th century American literature."

"Sorry. You want Literati. It's that way."