Throughout the 2000s, as antiretroviral therapy transformed HIV from a death sentence into a manageable chronic condition, TIM doubled down on its most controversial content. The studio released titles that explicitly referenced HIV transmission, drug use, and anonymous sex.
Treasure Island Media arrived with a sledgehammer to that aesthetic. Founded by Paul Morris, the studio marketed itself on "authenticity." It rejected the glossy, scripted nature of mainstream porn in favor of a gritty, raw, and amateur style. The men were often "regular guys"—not gym-toned models—and the sex was unprotected. Treasure Island Media Slammed
This wasn't just a stylistic choice; it was a provocation. By explicitly marketing "bareback" content at a time when the industry had a voluntary moratorium on it due to HIV concerns, TIM positioned itself as a rebel. The studio adopted a "Pig" identity, celebrating sexual subcultures that mainstream gay culture was trying to sanitize. Founded by Paul Morris, the studio marketed itself
successfully petitioned the California Occupational Safety and Health Administration (Cal/OSHA) to issue a landmark ruling against Treasure Island Media. The studio was cited for failing to use condoms, which the regulatory body deemed a violation of workplace safety for exposing performers to "semen and other potentially infectious materials". Fetishizing HIV : The studio sparked widespread outrage with films like Viral Loads (2014) and By explicitly marketing "bareback" content at a time
In 2016, the controversy reignited when the AIDS Healthcare Foundation attempted to put a measure on the California ballot requiring porn actors to wear condoms on set. While the industry at large fought the measure, TIM was often the poster child used by proponents of the bill to illustrate why government regulation was "necessary."
For over two decades, Treasure Island Media (TIM) operated as the unapologetic, unfiltered underbelly of the adult film industry. Founded by Paul Morris in the late 1990s, the studio didn’t just push boundaries—it erased them. Known for its “no-condom” aesthetic, raw amateur talent, and gritty, documentary-style filming, TIM cultivated a cult following that praised its authenticity while critics called it a public health hazard.