This week’s guest blogger is doing sterling work filling a gap in the market on advice and info. As he was getting his own vasectomy, he realised that there were far fewer personal accounts of the vasectomy procedure than there were for other forms of birth control – like post explaining IUD implantation, or the side effects of the pill. You do get occasional posts from heroic people who are happy to share their own vasectomy stories, but they’re few and far between (that link is the only one off the top of my head I can think of, someone else linked me to this video on non-surgical vasectomy – share yours in the comments if you have one too!). Having been through the process himself, this week’s guest blogger Big Spoon wanted to share his own experience with you: what it was like getting a vasectomy, the recovery afterwards, and answers to questions that I know blog readers will have like ‘how long until you can wank?’ and ‘at what point after a vasectomy do you find out it’s safe to have unprotected sex?’ Take it away Big Spoon…

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The fantasies which happen in my head are consensual. The fantasies which happen in my head are often non-consensual. It sounds like a logical fallacy: how can something be both consensual and non-consensual at the same time? The answer is that, of course, the ‘non-consent’ in my fantasies is only an illusion: the participants in my head are not real, the only real person here – the only one who needs to consent – is me. But when those fantasies leak out of my head onto the page or screen, readers – real live people – become a part of what’s happening, and their consent matters as well. Let’s talk about the ethics of writing consensual non-consent fantasies.

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I don’t want to write this post. The very idea of dragging the words from my head makes me want to cringe into a tiny ball. But I’m going to talk about butt plug accidents anyway. My reasons will become clear towards the end of the post but before I begin, a warning and a request. Warning: this post contains scenes that are a bit uncomfortable, especially if you’re not into anal stuff and are easily panicked. Request: if you know me in real life, I would genuinely rather you didn’t read this. It’s mostly because I feel I can be funnier and more honest about this incident if I don’t have to anticipate jokey conversations about it in the pub, during which I have to relive all the feelings that this incident triggered in my fluttery, panic-laden heart. So. If you know me, don’t read this. If you choose to read it anyway, pretend you haven’t. Deal? OK let’s go.

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Good news, gang: thanks to HPV vaccines, there now exists a generation which will not have to worry as much about certain kinds of cancer.

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Sexual consent isn’t gendered – at least, it shouldn’t be. If you’re chatting someone up in the hope that you’ll get to have sexy fun with them later, you shouldn’t be putting pressure on them to do things they don’t want to do, no matter what your gender or theirs. So apologies to everyone who knows this already, but I just wanted to pick up my sledgehammer and really slam this point home. Men: your consent matters too.

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