Still Living The Life Of A Stripper

In the paragraphs below y’all will be reading information which I finally had time to transcribe from a recorded talk I had with a very good friend of mine and former employer. She discusses the life of a stripper, how to make money, what to do with that money, personal safety, and so much more. I encourage y’all to set some time aside to read the information she has provided as it is considerably lengthy. It also provides insight to her personal accomplishments and how she has become a successful businesswoman. There are very different professions for all of the people who want to work, hopefully this will show y’all a different view of the world a stripper lives in. This could very easily be done as three separate posts but I’m an all you can eat buffet kind of guy who likes to get my fill all in one sitting. So, with that being said, here we go.

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To begin with let me say that I started stripping at the age seventeen with a fake identification and a fast talking mouth. With that resting comfortably in the back of your head I also opened my own full nude strip club at the age of 24 in Houston and have since opened another location in Dallas. There are a great deal of misconceptions out there about strippers and that is something you will have to deal with if you enter the profession. I will say this, I truly enjoy what I do and I have never felt exploited because I’m a stripper. In fact I have always felt it was far more personally empowering than any other profession. But stripping is not for everyone. It requires a certain temperament. Don’t go and become a stripper because you feel you “have” to. If you hate what you do it will show and you will make very little money as a stripper. The minute you start dancing the clock is ticking. There are a limited number of years in which to make as much money as you can. Most dancers retire around 27. If you’re starting when you’re 18 that gives you nine years in which to make as much money as you can and then get out. Chances are you will never again be able to make as much per day as you do while stripping. Make the most of of the time.

There are two kinds of strippers, subsistence and capital strippers. A subsistence stripper just works enough to get by. Maybe a few days a week, saves little and is always in a financial crisis. I see these girls panicking to get enough dances to pay rent the next day but by the next week they are back to partying, doing drugs, buying expensive clothes and generally pissing away every dime they earn. Their plans for the future are vague at best and even though they claim to realize they can’t dance forever they seldom save and invest their money or invest in an education. These girls get out of the business no better then they started and spend the rest of their lives getting their ass pinched in menial, low paying jobs. A capital stripper dances as an investment. In my opinion this is the only reason to strip. Stripping is just too hard a way to earn a living to do it for just enough to “get by”. You can get by on a McDonalds salary. If you are going to have guys staring at your naked ass all evening you should at least be securing a decent future for yourself, not just tomorrow’s groceries and rent. There are many excuses for not saving your money but in my experience few of them are valid. Single mother, health problems whatever, you can still afford to save. If you work hard you can make a great deal of money stripping.

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When you see that money in your hand it just doesn’t seem real, and when you keep seeing it night after night it seems like the supply will be endless. It’s really not, you need to put away the largest portion you can. Not just 10% or so but 40% or 60%. It is possible to do that and still live a very comfortable life. Strippers tend to live beyond their means and end up with nothing but memories of that nice sports car or that fancy apartment. If you can just keep it under control for a few years you can have that stuff for the rest of your life, long after you’re done stripping. Live within your means; base your spending around not what you make stripping but what you would make at a good entry-level job. Get a good, reliable car but you don’t need that giant SUV or fast sports car. Make sure your lease or car loan doesn’t rely on a strippers level of income to pay it. Same goes for the rent or mortgage. It’s very easy to fall on heels and break an ankle or tear up your knee, it happens all the time. You could be out of work for weeks or even months. You don’t want to be buried under a mountain of bills. I suggest buying at least basic health insurance but if you don’t you will need at least enough savings to pay for emergencies.

So what to do with the money you save? Well, set enough aside to pay for all of your expenses like food, housing, tuition, utilities, car, whatever for 4 months. This is your emergency fund, put it in your saving account and don’t spend it. The rest you should invest. I have a few well chosen mutual funds that I have been very happy with. As a stripper you’re looking to invest for the long term, at least 5 years and probably 10. Mutual funds are low maintenance and are well suited for this purpose. I strongly advise against investing in individual stocks. Despite all tales of buying low and selling high at the end of the year very few people are able to make money off buying and selling individual stocks. Stick with mutual funds, they are safer and more reliable (at least for the novice investor).

The best possible investment you can make is an education. With a nice big nest egg and a good degree you can do just about anything you want when you retire from stripping. Without an education or any job skills that money will eventually be gone. With an education you can make the most of your savings, use it as capital for your own business or invest it for a steady source of income. Too many strippers talk about how they’re planning on going back to school or they’re just taking a semester off. This is bullshit, if you want an education you need to go to school and work hard. If you’re not going to school then you’re pissing away your own future.

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At most clubs you will walk around and ask the customers if they’d like a private dance (or lap dance depending on the club). Some clubs just have stage dancing. Often there is a private area that you can go for a dance. Be careful, though, the dim lights and the privacy tend to make the guys a little frisky. Not in a bad or scary way just in a way that may need to be corrected. The most important thing to do when you’re dancing is to smile and make eye contact. Nothing turns a guy off faster then a stripper strolling bored around the stage while staring vacantly off into space. Try to make each guy you’re dancing for think he’s the only guy you’re dancing for. This is how the pros make the big bucks. At many clubs a significant part of your nightly earnings comes from private dances. Most of the time the customer will pay for you to sit and talk with them as well. Guys vary a lot but it’s always important to be attentive. Nobody likes to feel like they’re being ignored. Most guys are pretty nice and easy to talk to. Provided you’re a good listener and act interested, it’s no problem. Then you get the guys who aren’t trying to be obnoxious, they just don’t have the best social skills. They will sit and alternate between nagging you to go out with them and lying about how much money they have, how many places they’ve traveled, how important they are in their company, etc. Simpering and looks of wide-eyed wonder come in handy at this point. Some guys are an absolute pleasure to sit with, they buy plenty of dances, they visit on a regular basis, and best of all they’re lots of fun to talk too. It’s guys like this who really make it all worth while.

When dancing it’s important to stay motivated, at most clubs you are an independent contractor. You won’t get fired if you don’t work hard and no one will say anything if you decide to hang out at the bar and talk all night talking to the bartender. You need to treat being a stripper like a job and not a social experience. Decide on what time and how long you will have dinner for, the rest of the time work the floor as hard as you can. Make sure you always get at least 8 hours of sleep so you’re not tired. You’ll look and feel better. Set a clear goal, try to get 4 dances and hour, as you get better set higher goals for yourself. Never assume a passive approach and wait for them to call you over, stay moving and keep working. If it’s hard and you just can’t get motivated make a game of it, make bets with other girls on who can get the most dances. Promise yourself ice cream if you reach a certain goal, whatever you have to do to stay motivated and keep earning that money.

Learning how to properly break the ice and get invited to sit with a customer takes time. Most girls tend to just walk around to every guy in the room and ask “Wanna dance?” and then when he says no walk off. This is the exact wrong approach. Every guy in that room has enough money for at least one dance and you just have to find the right words to get them to buy one or more. “Wanna dance?” can work in a very crowded room or if a guy is already interested but it will do absolutely nothing to convince a guy who was uninterested to change his mind. It’s too easy to say no to and that is usually what happens. To start with, choose your targets, who is looking at you the most when you are on stage or dancing for other customers? Talk to the bartender (always be friends and take to the bartender) and the floor hosts about who has an open tab or has been spending a lot of money. If a bartender or floor hosts gives you a good lead and you make money ALWAYS tip them at the end of the night and that way next time they will go to you first when they see a big spender. When you approach your prospective customer try and say anything but “Wanna dance?”: would you like some company?, would you like if I joined you? If the room is slow and he seems reluctant put a very slight push on. If he says he’s not interested ask if he would mind if you just sat down and rested your feet for a minute- you’re “not used to these heels”. Few men are going to say no to that, and the “not used to these heels” implies that you’re a new dancer and invites conversation. If 10 minutes go by and he still doesn’t buy a dance don’t ask- just say “I’m sorry, I’ve got to get back to work- it’s been nice talking to you okay?” This implies that you didn’t consider sitting with him work, a slight bit of flattery that will get you a dance later. Think of this approach as “seeding” in that you may not get the dance then, but chances are you will later. After a half-hour of “wanna dance” from the other girls he’s going to wish for your company again and probably be willing to pay for it. Or even the next time he comes in your’s will be the familiar face. With this approach it’s important you not spend too long with them, always keep them hungry. Unless they’re paying don’t sit with them longer then 10 to 15 minutes and only that long if the room is very slow. If they’re used to getting it for free it’s going to be hard to get them to pay for it. You’re friendly and available and they just have to be willing to pay for it.

Never ever, sit on your own or hang out at the bar talking to other strippers. At any given time you should be either sitting with a customer, moving to another customer or on stage getting naked. If you’re just standing around they will assume you’re not busy and it will be very hard to get a customer to pay for your time because “you’re not doing anything anyway”. Look busy, if they think other men want you then they will want you. It’s important you have respect for the money they give you, so much money changes hands that girls often forget what it represents. Let’s say your customer earns $40,000 a year after taxes- probably about average income for a stripclub patron in Houston. That works out to around $20 an hour. If a customer sits with you and you make $100, that’s 5 hours of his time. If a handyman came to your house and fixed thing for 5 hours you’d say “thank you” right? Always thank the customer and make sure he knows you mean it. Even if $100 doesn’t seem like a lot of money to you to the average customer it is.

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One last thing, don’t screw with guys’ heads. It’s not cool, you can make money without doing it. I see lots of girls who string guys along implying they’ll go out with them if they just visit a few more times or laying on sob stories about their sick children or parents. Don’t do it, there is never any reason for you to lie as a stripper. After a few repetitions it gets very fake and you just come off as a greedy gold digging bitch. If you want customers to treat you with respect you should treat them with respect. If they are disrespectful just walk away, there is no reason for you to sink to their level. There are more then enough good men who will to pay you to sit, talk and laugh with them and when you dance they will treat you like a goddess. As customers they deserve your courtesy and if they don’t respect you in return they don’t deserve to have you spend time with them. Safety is a critical issue for strippers. Many menaked not understand that what we sell is a fantasy or feel that our employment makes us fair game for unwanted attentions. The six dumbest words that can leave a woman’s mouth are “I can take care of myself”. No you can’t, and get any notion that you’re some kind of tough girl out of your head. Men are bigger, stronger and meaner. They’ve been beating and raping women for thousands of years now and have pretty much got it down pat. Your little kick boxing lessons at the health club will not help you. If a grown man hits you full force you will be knocked unconscious and very likely break the bones in your face. Do not ever make safety decisions based on your opinion of your ability to defend yourself.

I personally think that carrying weapons or taking martial art, self-defense classes etc. are a bad idea for most women. The most effective way to survive is to be scared; anything that makes you brave makes you more likely to walk into a dangerous situation. If you have a gun in your purse you might be more likely to take that shortcut home, or take a ride with a man you don’t know very well or any number of risky things. If you’re scared you’re careful, if you’re careful you don’t get into trouble. If you are a feature stripper, have a very public presence (website or modeling), or have had problems with a stalker then a gun may be something you want to consider purchasing. You need to be trained in it’s use and practice with it at a firing range at least once every few months. Don’t bother carrying one unless you comfortable with the idea of killing someone. That’s what guns are for, you’re not going to be shooting knives out of anyone’s hands, you’re going to be trying to make a hole in the center of their torso. If you have small hands like me you can have a gunsmith machine a trigger guard that will comfortable fit your finger but too small for the finger of a grown man. But I would like to emphasize, most women are far better off not carrying a gun. Only if you are in a position of constantly being exposed to unavoidable danger is it an option.

One never wishes to blame the victim but every single girl I know without exception who has ever gotten into trouble was doing something most women would consider risky or just plain stupid. Don’t take chances- the stakes are too high. As a stripper, leaving the club after work is the time when you are most vulnerable. I have only gotten scared twice at work. On both occasions it was when an overly enthusiastic customer decided to wait for me outside the club after closing. On both occasions the men were just confused about the nature of what a stripper does and were quickly dealt with by security. This being said, transportation is a critical safety issue that you really have to think about. Going to work is not a problem because customers can’t really see where you are coming from. Leaving is when you have to be most vigilant. Public transportation is out of the question, it’s too easy to be followed and is rarely safe at the hours you’ll be riding. I’d suggest sharing a cab with one of the other girls. If you decide to drive, make very sure that your car is reliable, last thing you need is a break down on an empty road at 3AM. A cell phone is a good thing to have. Make sure when you register you car you do it to another address (friend, parent, etc.). That way if some creep takes down your license plate number he can’t find out your home address. For obvious reasons never give any personal info to anyone who knows you as a stripper, including other strippers. There are strippers and bouncers who will give the information to customers for money or as a favor. There is no reason anyone needs to know anything but your stage name. Don’t tell them where you live or what school you go to no matter how trust worthy they seem. Once that information is out it’s very difficult to put back in the box.

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We are not all success stories. I had my eye on the prize the first time someone slipped money in my garter. I learned how to capitalize on a man’s willingness to part with his hard earned money to see me naked. Done properly, a stripper can sock away grand amounts of cash just by dancing naked, and it can end as a very fruitful career choice. Not every girl is a naturally born stripper, you have to be willing to work your ass off, and then the world holds endless possibilities for you.

These Creatures Stalk The Nights

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Just when I thought I had been away long enough that it wouldn’t make a difference any longer I was quickly proven dead wrong. I went ahead and accepted a temporary bartending position at Club X while the management attempts to fill the vacancy. As much as I didn’t want to I bit the bullet and went in last night. This time I had terms because I had no intention of making this permanent again. As my 10-99 was already on file with Club X all I really needed to do early yesterday afternoon was go in and sign some paperwork and give them a current copy of my contractors liability insurance policy. The contract is for 60 days and states I will only be required to work 10 hours a night for two nights a week, Wednesdays and Thursdays, beginning on 11 June 2014. Employee will be paid at the end of his shift each Thursday at the agreed rate of $900.00 per day equalling, but not limited to $1800.00 per pay period. Employee will not tip out 35% of tip proceeds to the bar or the house, employee will keep all tip proceeds, paid out in cash, each night. In the event employee exceeds the agreed 20 hours weekly the employee will be compensated at the rate of $135.00 per additional hour. Employee is required to provide his own transportation and will be compensated at the rate of $1.61 per mile to include the distance traveled in each direction to fulfill the terms of this contract. After reviewing the contract I signed and dated it, made me copy, and headed home for a nap because it was going to be a long fucking night.

All of this was discussed with my wife over the weekend and we agreed that I could do it for the next 8 weeks but “prefers” I do not accept anything permanent afterwards. The money will be nice and it will help but I wondered if it was all worth doing over again. I remember clearly why I chose to stop being a bartender at a full nude strip club and as I rode into “work” I almost talked myself out of even going. Plus, it was a nice evening to ride and I was enjoying my tour through Houston. I did go, I followed through with the obligation I agreed to, what the hell, just roll the dice. After parking my Goldwing in the back of the club I smoked a quick cigarette while I stripped off my leathers in preparations to go inside. Ready. Set. Go. I had a part of a song stuck in my head that was so fitting to me walking through the doors of Club X, “you’re a crazy bitch but I like the way you fuck me so I’m on top of it”. Exactly. This was like I imagine it would feel if I were ever to have taken my psycho cunt ex-wife back when we were just separated. She tried hard, in the end, to fuck me ways I never dreamt she was capable of. Because for 12 years I always got the impression it was a ” obligatory chore” she performed. In the end it was actually like she wanted to be there and actually liked me a little. But, it was a game I was not going to play, the end. Similar to my leaving the club, I was tired of the lies, the drama, and the bullshit that came with being a bartender there.

I quickly was reminded that the “scenery” inside the club was always fantastic and generally could make a man forget his problems outside the walls of the club. But I don’t have problems outside I am trying to forget or drown, all if mine, all of my fears, were inside the club, and as I walked to the bar I tried not to focus in the past. Instead, I was greeted by Grace, a friend I had here who remembered me quite well. Nothing beats being greeted but a completely nude 5’11” stunning brunette with sweat dripping off her glistening body. All I am saying is it was a very pleasant surprise which actually was a great distraction. She was assigned to be my assistant at the bar, meaning she was assigned to the stage that also is my bartop and will entire customers to not only try new drinks but to enjoy them served in a different way, something that disappeared when I did. If you are new, curious, or can’t remember, you can search this blog’s bartender stories which some explain in graphic detail the way shots/drinks get served some times. But, because it plays into this night I will explain it some. Imagine Grace on her back, laid across the bar, legs spread while her ass is propped up with her hands, providing me with the perfect “cavity” to pour the ingredients of a Texas Tea, topped off with a orange slice, drink umbrella, a a straw for sipping. That is a $75.00 drink ensemble (interactive drink with personal show) and it began an onslaught of repeats. We did 73 of these drinks with a variety of drinks. Which means money for me and Grace, $13.00 goes to the bar, $50.00 goes to Grace, and the remaining $12.00 goes to me. Which means I picked up an additional $876.00 in tips I wasn’t expecting and she got over $3600.00 for letting drinks be sipped out of her tiny little vagina.

Eventhough these ensemble drinks keep me busy I also had to do my actual job. It was a fast paced night, I hope the rest of the nights I will be working fly by so fast. Plus, the extra money in tips will work out nicely as well. Maybe my fears are because I left on a bad note before, being burnt out has a negative effect on my attitude, but I think I might be able to tolerate this all the way through. We’ll see, since only time can really tell. Anyway, I’m going to be fishing for a while longer. After 2 hours of sitting here I have had two bites, maybe they are playing hide and seek today.

Life Happens At The Speed Of Ink

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On very rare occasions categories here at The Sting Of The Scorpion get overlapped. For the most part that isn’t a question because it all comes out in the wash. The latest Magic Weekend submission actually starts out as a Bartender Story since the person in the story is a stripper at Club X. So the best thing for me to do is to just let her tell her story because this one is sure to open some eyes this morning. I have found, over the years, that strippers are an interesting breed. They’re no different from the faces y’all see everyday all around you and if you are lucky y’all just might see them naked sooner or later. This story is about Sissy and how her everyday life and her stripper life met somewhere in the middle for a little fun and excitement. As a stripper, Sissy gets to show off her tattoos every time she goes to work at Club X and gets naked. Without further ado, here is Sissy’s story of her Magic Weekend.

It all started this past Thursday when two of my co-workers at the orthodontist office started talking about their new tattoos they had gotten a few weeks ago. They wanted to play show and tell now that they were pretty much healed up. I couldn’t wait to see them because these two girls are the most prissy girly girly types I think I have ever met. Since I’m friends with them, meaning I’m the only one who really talks to them, I was invited around the corner so they could show off. Estacia lifts her scrub shirt and lowers her scrub pants to expose around her hip bone. She got a neon orange tree frog about the size of a fifty cent piece, how cute. Elizabeth was next, all full of giggles, lifts the leg of her scrub to display the sticky note pad sized unicorn she had on her lower calf. Strange, but cute nonetheless I guess. These two are no longer tattoo virgins. When asked if I had any tattoos I was unsure which I would show off at the orthodontist office. I thought I would keep it simple and show my Hawaiian flower on my right hip.

We had to break up show and tell because the orthodontist was coming down the hall so we all kinda went a different direction and headed back to our stations. Later that day Estacia stops in to see me and asks where I get my tattoos. So, I explained to her it is a hole in the wall place in a part of town I didn’t think she was familiar with. I was right, she had no actual idea where it was at. She asked if I wouldn’t mind taking her one day if I was ever going back. I had been planning on going back, tomorrow morning in fact after I got off work at the club. I explained to her that I had a second job and I would be getting off if she wanted to meet up then we could go. I gave her the address of where I would be at 1am and then we could ride together since it was right up the street about 1/2 mile. She agreed and said she could find it she was sure.

Estacia decided to come by the club about 30 minutes early and decided to come in. I think she just wanted to see what I do there because I never said that I was a stripper. I was on stage finishing up the last song of my set when I spotted her not too far from the stage. She walked up to talk to me with a $20 in her hand and asked me now what. So, I decided to screw with her a little bit. I sat down on the stage letting my legs reach out and pull her in closer. I laid back working my legs up over her shoulders and told her to fold the bill in half and then hold it in her mouth so I could get it. She did as I asked never taking her eyes off of mine. I arched my back as high as possible while leaning her forward with my legs until her lips were less than an inch away from my lips. I could feel her hot breath on the inside of my thighs as I girated one time letting her lips touch mine leaving the $20 pinched between my lips now. I released my grip and she slowly stood back up. She got the last laugh in a way because she looked right at me and licked her lips, then walked away.

I found Estacia sitting alone at the crowded bar a little later. I knew she was waiting for me to find her. I approached quietly from behind and tucked my head between hers and some tard trying to talk to her. She grabbed my face, gave this look, and then shoved her tongue down my throat. It was nice, she had a sweet taste. When it was over I was able to squeeze in next to her so we could talk. She asked my why I never told her I was a stripper. I explained it wasn’t something I advertised at the orthodontics office because I didn’t want to risk losing my job over a moonlighting job. We agreed that it was all good now. We sat there and talked for a bit longer and then I told her I was heading to the tattoo parlor so let’s get the hell out of here. I was definitely seeing Estacia in a totally different way now because she definitely shocked the shit out of me. Such a dirty girl, I like that.

We entered the tattoo parlor like two giddy ass school girls, giggling and carrying on like there was no one around us. Rick, the owner, came over to say hi so I introduced him to Estacia. He asked what we were getting done and Estacia chimed in to tell him she wanted her clit hood pierced just like mine. Shock to me. He said to give him a few minutes to finish up another client. Estacia looked straight at me and told me if I had never put it in her face she would have never thought of getting pierced there. What can I say, stranger shit happens, right. We sat there chit chatting about my other tats and piercings for a bit when she asked the ultimate question. She asked if I thought she would make a good stripper and could make some extra money on the side of working at the orthodontics office. I just told her that maybe we needed to meet up soon and she could show me her moves.

Rick showed back up and said it was time to go. Estacia put her hand out for me to come along and tells me she wants me there. So, all three of us headed back to the piecing station. He stepped out so she could remove her jeans and get situated on the table. She slid her jeans down slowly, seductively, making sure I could see how she was making an effort to impress me. Little did she know, I was already impressed, she already had my attention. I don’t meet too many girls interested in me but this is a very nice change of pace. Now, let me tell you what impressed me about her mini striptease, she had went commando and she was shaved so smooth I could see the goose bumps glistening in the bright lights. I was handed her jeans, I noticed they were very warm, I also noticed while I was folding them up the large wet spot she had developed. This morning is definitely turning out to be brighter than I could have imagined.

Soon after, Rick pops back in announcing that we are good to go, sign here, and we can rock and roll. After putting on his surgical gloves he rolls out a tray of instruments and opens everything up to begin. After placing two black dots for the in and out he began the procedure. In a matter of moments he was done. Rick handed Estacia a mirror so she could check it out. She grabbed ahold of the stainless steel ring giving it a little tug then nodded her head saying that this would definitely work for her. Rick wiped her down and told her to meet him up front when she got dressed. She hopped off the table and headed towards me to get her jeans. She reaches down pulling on her new ring and asked if I liked it. I put my fingers out grasping the ring, giving it a little tug telling her now the fun can begin. After a small moan she slid back into her jeans, buttoned them up, and we walked up front, she commented that she can really feel it now.

She paid Rick, signed one more piece of paper, and then we left hand in hand. After asking where she wanted to go she said it didn’t matter. So, thinking I know what this is all leading up to I tell her we are going back to my apartment right now and we can get her car later. She just gave me a nod and away we went. I don’t live too terribly far from the parlor so it was a very fast trip home. We barely made it up the first flight of stairs before we started tearing at each others cloths. By the time we hit the third flight of stairs we were both completely naked. As soon as I closed the door behind us our clothes and shoes dropped to the floor in a blurring thud. The next thing I know I am pinned up to the door, my hands being held above my head by one of hers as she begins with a kiss that ends with her sucking on my tit. Before I could catch my breath I felt the warmth of her fingers being driven up into my very wet pussy. She kissed me harder as she fucked me with her fingers even harder. This had to stop, this was going to far here at the door. I wiggled out of her grasp and led her to the couch.

I laid her down on her back, spreading her legs wide open like I was ripping a wishbone in two. The first thing I did was grab ahold of her new piercing, the skin still shiny and pink around it, as I rolled it between my fingertips. I began a lick at her ankle and didn’t stop until I was at her other ankle. After that it was a tangled mess of legs and arms going everywhere, I can only imagine what the neighbors were hearing because it actually got real loud. As fast as it started it ended with both of us collapsed on the floor, out of breath, wanting more, but out of energy. We fell asleep that way. I remember waking up next to her on the floor with our bodies intertwined. In an instant I saw the clock and we needed to get going so we are not late for work. We jumped in the shower for a quick, but heated rinse off and then we had to get dressed. She and I were basically the same size so we grabbed my scrubs and got dressed, threw our hair up, did some quick make up, and then we were out of the door.

I hauled ass to work and was real lucky I didn’t have a wreck or get a ticket. Arriving to work just in time we hurried to clock in so we could get to work. Soon enough we were approached by Elizabeth who asked why we were riding together. Estacia just said she had some car trouble and called me because I’m on her way. She said okay and then asked Estacia if she had got new scrubs because those were different from what she normally wears. She said nope and walked off down the hallway. Elizabeth whispers in my ear that she knew what had happened, ending it with a wink, and then saying that it was obvious that Estacia had gotten laid because she just smelled like fresh sex. She said she would get a confession out her and then let me know all the dirty details. To my knowledge Estacia didn’t give us up which means she is serious about what was happening, me to, I would like to see this continue as well. We will have to see where this all goes, but as far as I can tell I got me a new fuck buddy.

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Broken Wings Of A Fallen Angel

Broken Wings Of A Fallen Angel

Charity’s parents were both killed in a head on collision with a teenage drunk driver at the age of 13. Charity had what she called a normal life up until the day they were killed. She attended public school, she was a girl scout with her friends, and enjoyed attending church with her parents every Sunday. She recalls she was named Charity because her parents believed she was a gift from Heaven. Her dad’s nickname for her since she can remember was Angel because she was always told she was daddy’s little angel. Little did she know that her world had just been turned upside down. She was picked up from the babysitter late that night by a social worker who sadly but coldly broke the news to her. When asked, Charity was unable to provide any next of kin, as far as she knew there was none. She spent the next day being processed into the system which she was soon going to be calling home. Later that afternoon she would be greeted by Mrs. Robinson who was going to be taking Charity into foster care. The Robinsons lived in a very nice house, a mansion by comparison to her parent’s house. They went through the very painful ordeal of going to her old house to gather as many of her things that would fit in the van that Mrs. Robinson was driving. It was very fast, the way they moved throughout the house, she remembers that there wasn’t much she wanted to get, in fact she wanted to not take anything because it was going to be an instant reminder of her parents. Right now, at this point, she wanted to forget what was happening. When they got back to Mrs. Robinson’s house she was greeted by Mr. Robinson who seemed to be very quiet and kind of creepy to her. She felt as if he was looking right through her as if she wasn’t actually there. For the following days she got that same feeling. She kept wondering how long she would be here and what was going to happen next. In a quick manner she was put back into school, in fact it was the same school she was already going to. Nobody knew anything except for the assistant principal who arranged for everything to happen. That Saturday she went to the joint funeral for her parents. She slipped a note into her dad’s hands which read, “now you are my Angel”.

She remained in the Robinson home until right after her 15th birthday. The contract with the Robinsons had expired and the state was no longer going to pay them for keeping Charity. She thought this was her home now and the Robinsons were now her parents. With the closing of the car door that was all gone once again. Due to her age she was going to be required to be placed in a group foster home which she quickly found out was also a halfway house from addicts and runaways. She didn’t like this place. The first night she was cornered by an older boy when she was returning from the shower room. He quickly shoved her up against the wall and whispered in her ear that if she made one noise he would kill her and then fuck her bleeding body while it was still warm. She remained quiet, emotionless, and tried not to squirm as she had her virginity raped out of her. When the one boy was done, he let her go and she just hit the floor where she rolled up into a ball to hold herself tightly. She tries not to think about the pain, she tries to block out what just happened. When she opened her eyes there were three more boys standing above her. She tried to get up to run but one of them grabbed her leg and dragged her back. This time she was forced into a storage room. They took turns raping her, two of them would hold her down at a time and then they would switch off. This went on for hours. When they were done with her limp lifeless body that fell to the floor they all began spitting on her at first, then they all began to piss on her face, her heard, everywhere. The ugly one with the scars on his face told this never happened and to make sure it stays that way. If it didn’t, one threatened, that she would simply disappear and nobody would even miss her. She went to her room, bleeding down the inside of her legs, the rest of her dripping in cum, spit, and piss. She decided right then she wasn’t staying here one more second, she was done. She quietly changed clothes and shoved some other clothes in her pack. When the moment was right she left the house and never looked back. She had the $200.00 that Mrs. Robinson had given her for her birthday and she planned on using that money to get as far away from San Antonio as she could. She went to the bus station and found that she could be on a bus to Houston in under an hour for only $38.00 so she bought her ticket. She went to the rest room to clean herself up, she was a mess, inside and out.

She slept the entire way to Houston. She was able to hang out at the station in Houston most of the day. She was able to find food and she was able to sleep a little here and there. After dark the police sweep the station for vagrants and troublemakers. Charity was escorted out of the station and sent on her way with no problems. She was determined to keep her head down low and not draw any attention to herself. She lived on the streets for the next year or so, doing what she had to for food, money, and a place to sleep. She spent most nights going between shelters for woman as she never wanted to be at one place to long. Her first real trouble came just before she was to turn 18 when she got caught shoplifting at mall. However, the manager felt sorry for her and didn’t call the police. The manager made arrangements for Charity to keep the clothes she had stolen by giving her a part-time job to pay it all back. She continued to work there even after her debt was paid so she would have some money to hopefully get out of the shelters. She had made friends with one of the other girls over time and they eventually became roommates. They used to go out trolling for horny guys that were leaving the strip clubs in the area. They would be half ass drunk and be brief sloppy sex but it was helping to pay the bills. Eventually they both entered Club X to see what it was all about. Club X has active recruiters walking the floors and Charity and her friend were soon on the radar. After they were approached and whatever agreement was made they sat around a bit at the bar, watching, taking mental notes, and forging a plan on how they would make their money.

Soon enough the patrons of Club X were introduced to Angel and Persuasion. They were a big hit, new blood, and a whole new show. Almost immediately these two were breaking the rules. Instead of declining offers of money in exchange for sex from the patrons they began accepting them. They were warned of their suspect activity and if they were caught by the management then they would have their jobs terminated. They didn’t head the warnings, they acted as if they really didn’t care about the repercussions in regards to their extra sexual activities. They knew how to fuck better than dance eventhough they also had a great time dancing. They were enjoying the money, the drugs, the liquor, and fucking these dumbass into returning more often so it could start all over again. Ninety-nine percent of the time they would both be having sex with the same guy at the same time. At first it was for safety but after a while they just like it that way. One night Angel (Charity) came into work alone, she began asking around for her friend but nobody had seen her since they left together the night before. A few nights went by before she was approached by two detectives. They spoke for a few moments and then they all three left the club together. Two nights later Charity returned to the club. After her shift of dancing she sat at the bar to have a few drinks and eat a salad when she, out of the blue, began to tell me about a 13-year-old girl who lost her parents in a horrible car accident. I was a little dumbstruck to say the least. What does one say? The conversation didn’t end here tho, she had more to tell about her good friend and room-mate. The two detectives had taken her to the morgue to positively identify her friend. She was found naked in a dumpster with her throat cut and many other knife wounds to her body as well. There was evidence of sexual activity prior to her death but that is all they would say. They said they contacted her because when they found her belongings they also found a driver’s license which led them to their apartment. According to the management Charity was the roommate and could probably be found at Club X dancing. The night she returned to work was the last time anyone saw or heard from Charity.

I have waited a long time to tell this particular story from my time as a bartender because it is a sad story and sad stories bring me down. However, due to the mood I have been in lately I saw no harm in going ahead and writing it all the way out. I am reminded that life for each of us is just a little bit different. Many people have lead a sheltered life and don’t realize that there are troubled people everywhere who have been handed a raw deal in life. I am also reminded that not every story ever told has a remotely happy ending. It is because of this that I enjoy writing because my personal passion is writing about life around me. Part of that life was while I spent many years working at the strip club. I can’t, won’t, and don’t want those memories to go away simply because they remind me not to bitch because my life isn’t so bad.

The Journey That Changed A life

Journey To Houston 02

As a bartender in a full nude strip bar I was witness to many amazing sites, I got to meet many amazing people, and best of all I got to listen to the stories of many people. The incredible challenge I always had was knowing what to do with all of the information that had been offered to me. What do I do? Write a book? Write a movie? Neither, but I did write it all down. I took notes and wrote down triggers so that the stories would come back to me easy. Why do all that? Why bother? Good question, which the story I will tell today will hopefully relay and answer some of those questions. In time gone by I had a separate blog dedicated solely to telling stories from my perspective from behind the bar based on my conversations and observations. And, unfortunately I fell victim to some culling of blogs and it became a deleted statistic I chalked up as a great loss. However, as y’all can see here, I have been trying to maintain the tradition of telling my stories. from this point forward I will warn you that the content will become adult oriented and the language as well as the descriptive picture will become a bit more colorful. I’m not the best story-teller, but I try to be a fair story re-teller. Without further ado I will begin with a story about a 17 y/o runaway that set out on a journey that changed her perspective and changed her life forever. These are her experiences as she told them to me.

On the day after she turned 17 she decided that life in Schuyler Nebraska wasn’t what she wanted any longer. She had been thinking about leaving for a while but never had the guts to just up and walk away. Her home life was not anything she can admit to be glamorous by any means. Her mother had died a few years before which she took real hard. She was an only child and now she was still living with her mom’s boyfriend. He, in all reality, was all she had. He is decent to her. He has allowed her to continue to live with him as long as she stayed in school. It has become really weird because he has a new girlfriend who also lives with them. She is only 3 years older and that is hard enough to deal with. All remembrance of her mother is of her own accounts as the boyfriend rarely if ever talks about her. She started feeling out-of-place and in the way of the new life he was starting for himself. So, she decided that she needed to get away, far away, far enough that she didn’t have to worry about the life she wanted to leave behind. She celebrated her birthday with her friends and her part-time on and off boyfriend. It wasn’t a party or anything, just went out to a friends property to drink and get a little wild. The next morning she left the house she grew up in for the last 8 years with nothing but the clothes on her back and the cash she had been saving. As far as she was concerned she only took what she needed and would get more as she moved on and when it was needed. She just started walking south, following the back country roads, following railroads at times, and sleeping where she could when she could. She would bath in restrooms of fast food places and gas stations which was already getting old after a few days. She would get picked up on occasion but it rarely lasted very long because she would feel uncomfortable and unsafe. The only way she felt she could pay was with some kind of sexual favor and she didn’t want to go there.

Unfortunately as she traveled she found herself in need of money, food, and a warm place to stay the night. She learned that her body was something that she could use and get what she wanted in return. She would blow into different hole in the wall towns and waitress at the local bars mostly. She learned that the less she wore to work and the more she teased the men that this equaled more money. She recalled the time she wore the shortest shorts she could find to the bar one night. She remembers these shorts because they have become her lucky shorts over time. She thinks its funny because she got them at a thrift shop for twenty-five cents. While at the bar that night she was convinced to enter into a wet t-shirt contest because the 1st place prize was $1500.00 and a trip to Las Vegas. She remembers thinking Vegas was going the wrong direction for her but if she got the trip she would go and check it out. She spent allot of time telling little white lies about her age in order to work in the bars. Lucky for her they never asked for any identification because she didn’t even have any. So, she entered the contest with all the local girls from the bar and the area around. She knew she would have to make it dirty to have a chance. She wanted the guys to remember her when they went home drunk to their wives and girlfriends. She has began to find the power of showing a little skin here and there. She didn’t win the wet t-shirt contest, but she did place 3rd out of some 40 other women, which in her opinion wasn’t too damn bad. As well, it had a $400.00 prize to go with the title. She knew she would have to try just a little harder the next time. As it turns out her journey to wherever she was going was taking quite some time. It’s been close to a year now and she still finds herself moving. She spent a few months over the winter in San Antonio Texas where she made some good friends and had a decent job working at a hole in the wall strip club as a waitress and a bar-back. She was thinking that this is where it’s at, she just might have found her knew home.

Then, one day out of the blue her roommate decided she wanted to go to Houston to visit family and asked if she wanted to tag along for the weekend. She figured why not, let’s go. Just so happens that when they got into town they saw an advertisement for, as it was billed, the largest wet t-shirt contest on the planet. They joked about going, then the joking became serious, then the joking turned into a dare, the dare turned into a bet. They showed up at Club X in the early evening that Saturday to see if they could check out the competition. They realized real fast that the club was actually a full need strip club and they might be in over their heads. Since she was 18 now she actually had the required identification to prove her age to participate in the wet t-shirt contest. They were given t-shirts with the club logo all over it. As she finds out later, I had a contest of my own to design those t-shirts, she found that funny for some reason I found out later. After getting ready and so forth they had a few drinks when it was announced that there will be over 700 participants in the wet t-shirt contest. Seems that many people want the prizes and don’t care that they will have to show their tits to get it. She had learned over the last year that it’s just a wet t-shirt contest but what it turns out to be is a totally different animal. The men don’t want to see the girls in their t-shirt, they want to see everything but that. She also found that she needed to learn how to move like a stripper if she ever wanted to win, an edge that she thinks she mastered. Then, the parade of tatas began and she remembers how nervous she really was because there were 700 plus girls who all wanted the same prize. She made it thru the initial cut, she made it thru the semi-final cut, and ended up in the top 10 by the time the night progressed. It was time to turn up the heat, game fucking on! She put her game face on and showed Houston what she was made of. She ended up not winning however, she didn’t win the $10,000.00 cash prize for 1st, she didn’t win the $7,500.00 cash prize for 2nd place. She did secure 3rd place and that $5,000.00 purse. She was also approached by the club’s dancer recruiter and asked to attend the boot camp if she would like to have a job. Oh, her friend? Her friend got put out in the semi-finals, receiving a zero dollar prize.  She thought about the offer quite a bit the rest of the night and on into Sunday. She spoke to her friends mom and asked if she could stay with them for a while and she was told yes, of course. Her friend went back to San Antonio that night and she went back down to the strip club to talk to the recruiter about her offer. Since she had already answered the question if she wanted the job or not by staying she got geared up and fired up about going to boot camp to see if she gets the job.

She had to go shopping, she needed some clothes to do the boot camp, and some more street clothes because what she had wasn’t much anymore. During the two weeks of the boot camp she kept wondering if stripping was what she wanted to do. She kept weighing her options, and decided she would give it her best shot. At the end of the 2 weeks she was offered the job and she accepted the job. She remembers thinking that she can’t believe she has got herself into this. She realized that her journey was not important because she didn’t have a destination in mind at the time. Her first couple weeks were a little rough, getting into the routine, dealing with being on probation, and getting used to dancing in the nude in front of such large crowds. It was very overwhelming for her. Once she had been there for about a month she explained that she had stages she liked and disliked, her favorite stage was my bar because it was an opportunity to really let loose. My bar was extended out in all directions to serve as a decent sized stage, this stage even had it’s own pole. She began to meet people and open up and talk to people like myself when she had the time. She did pretty good money-wise and that made her pretty happy. Then, those dreams came crashing down around her, she ended up tearing her knee up real bad one night doing some very enlightening moves. I actually saw it because it happened on my bar. She considered her stripper career to now be ended. She ended up with a real wicked scar down the outside of her leg as a souvenir. She actually kept her job but moved to the front door checking i.d.s and taking admissions. While she was doing that she was going to school to get her TABC license. Once she got that she moved into the bars as a bar-back. She missed the money of stripping but didn’t really miss having to get naked to get paid. She did okay behind the bar, about $50,000 a year plus about $15,000.00 in tips annually. So, bartending wasn’t a bad gig either. Now, she reminded me, that it didn’t stop her from filling in on occasion or the random striptease while she was tending bar. She had fun with it.

She doesn’t think her journey is over because she doesn’t see herself staying in one place for too long. I think she will always do well in life because she chases what she wants and when she catches it she rides it like she stole it. Her story isn’t unlike many. People generally think poorly of strippers and often consider them to be no better than drug addict prostitutes. Not everyone that ends up stripping is running away from something, in fact, many aren’t running at all, they found that the income is great. Sadly, our society shuns nudity and makes it very taboo which tends to lend to be why when a person says strip bar or stripper it is usually done in a whisper. Yes, I know, being a nude stripper isn’t a game that everyone can or even wants to play, but it seems that more and more women are exploring it as an option. Everyday woman, like the ones you work with, go to school with, see at the grocery store, your neighbor, woman everywhere are trying new things for new reasons. Not every story always has a happy ending, as in life, sometimes there are tragedies as well.  Keep that in mind the next time you judge someone before knowing them. I hope you have enjoyed this latest installment to the Bartender Stories. Until next time, remember to eat it every day!

Journey To Houston 01

When She Changed Her Mind

pole-1

It’s been a while since I’ve extracted an interview from my little black notebook. I find myself getting backlogged in my own crap at times with the things I do here at the blog. I suppose I was trying to make a seamless transition when combining everything together. But, as it works out, I think it is pretty much all straight or at least as straight as it can be. With that being said and other business being squared away I have dipped into the pages of my notebook. I was looking for something very specific after getting an e-mail from a pissed off teacher. It reminded me that I had been wanting to tell the story of a small town teacher who gives up everything, moves to Houston, and finds herself working at Club X. For those of y’all new to my blog(s) I will give a quick rundown. I was a bartender at a full nude strip bar here in Houston Texas. I’ve never been comfortable giving out the name of the club and when I write about it or my time there I will always refer to it as Club X. So, if you are new here just look to the right for the link that reads “Scorpion Sting’s Bartender Stories” and you will see a small selection of surviving stories. So many stories were lost when my Google account was killed off, I think there were a little over 300, I found and saved like 12 of them. If you are easily offended by adult language, adult situations, human anatomy, or talking about nude women, this might be the time for you to just like my post and leave unwounded and intact. Starting with the next paragraph I will begin with the story. Some of y’all might consider it to be a little graphic so closing of the eyes will be accepted. Y’all ready? Let’s GO!

Once upon a time in a small town in west Texas named Fabens there was a young lady who was a teacher. This teacher was born and grew up in Fabens. When she graduated high school Stacy left to attend Texas A & M University to study to get her teaching degree. She had hopes of teaching in the local elementary school back in Fabens. 4 1/2 years later she remembers walking into her 4th grade class for the first time. She recalls in order to explain that she grew up a very sheltered girl. She had scholastic interests which got in the way of dating in high school and had all of two failed relationships. When I asked her why she considered them failures she was real blunt with me. My first clue that she wasn’t going to be holding back. She said the first guy was nice enough. After a year or so he began pressing her for sexual relations and when she declined he walked away never saying another word to her. The second guy, she says with a giggle, is still in prison. Prison, why? On their 4th date he took her out to a deserted road, threatened her with a knife and told her the only way she will survive the night is if she fucks him until she passes out from exhaustion. Scared, she began to comply by slowly getting undressed. The whole time she was trying to figure out how to get away. She was sure she was about to have her virginity raped away from her. After she removed all of her clothes she pulled her legs back. She says that she was hoping to just distract him for one second. She aged him on a bit since he wasn’t moving very fast by telling him “here is what you are after so get to fucking”. Upset, he slapped her, cutting her lip open, and then he went to thrust into her for the first time. Somehow, she said, she ended up with the knife in her hand, and before his dick touched her she shoved a 7″ blade to the hilt straight up thru his balls into his abdomen. There was blood everywhere. She grabbed her clothes and took off running. She stopped when she got home. After explaining to her dad what happened he went looking for him. Fortunately he made it to the hospital emergency room so he was easy to find. He was sentenced 15 years for attempted rape and the battery of a minor with a deadly weapon, this all happened in 2007. Next thing she knew she was in college and then graduating. She has survived college and now wants to return to her hometown to teach. Which is where it all began.

One of her friends decided to not go to college and moved to Houston to see what life in the big city had to offer. Her friend found out real fast that money doesn’t grow on trees in the big city and she had better find a job fast or she would be living with the bums down on the bayou. She was able to avoid the typical fast food jobs and found herself working as the receptionist at Porsche dealership. She figured the only reason she got the job was because she had a nice smile and boobs. This job paid pretty good, started her out at $13.00 an hour which was decent for what she had to do, answer the phones, take messages, and direct the people traffic. She worked there around 3 years until one day she came into work and there was a new receptionist at her desk, she was blonder, had a nicer smile, and better boobs. When her friend asked questions she was told she had been laid off due to her position no longer being available. Was she pissed? Not really because she was pretty bored of the job anyway. On her way home she decided to go the back way because it was mid morning and the traffic would not be too bad. As she drove by Club X she saw a giant banner advertising a mud wrestling contest with a $10,000.00 grand prize for first place. She stopped in to get some details. She won the mud wresting matches and ended up being number one which meant she just got paid for doing something she was good at. She was offered a job and she took it. Not long after-words she invited Stacy to come visit her so they could catch up. It just so happened that it was spring break so Stacy decided what the hell. When she arrived in Houston to meet her friend, Sonia, she was amazed at how well things were working out for her. They had a grand day sight-seeing and going out to eat. Later in the evening they found themselves at a few different clubs to go dancing and drinking. They went back to Sonia’s house where they slept it all off. That night Sonia was getting ready to go to work and left an address for Stacy to come to later. She said it will be fun. Stacy was told to flirt with the bartender a bit and he will give her free drinks. When Stacy arrived at the address via taxi she called Sonia to verify she was at the right place, which was confirmed. Not knowing exactly what to think she went ahead and went in. She mentioned she was a friend of Sonia and she was escorted straight to the bar because Sonia let them know to expect her. From my point of view, Stacy looked very lost and very out-of-place, yet she fit in nicely. Stacy had asked me to point out Sonia’s location. At just the time I spotted her she was walking to the bar. They sat there and talked for a while and then it was time for Sonia to go to work. It was Sonia’s turn to dance on the stage which was also my bar. She put on one hell of a show, almost made me blush watching her.

Throughout the night Stacy stayed at the bar where she drank whatever I would put out in front of her. She recalls that I got her really drunk and wondered to herself what I wanted from her in return. When the night came to an end they both disappeared into the shadows to head home. Stacy says that Sonia convinced her to try out for a position on the team and test the waters a bit and see if she could make any money. But, she had a job she kept thinking. She figured what the hell because she was on vacation and quite simply nobody knew who she was anyway because she was so far from home. Stacy came in early and did an audition for the trainer and did an impressive job from what I understood. She was offered a provisional position for 2 weeks to see if she worked out or not. I explained what the “provisional position” stood for and meant in plain English. I had to tell her, I felt obligated to tell her that for the first couple of weeks she may think she is making allot of cash but what she takes home will be around 60% less since she will have to cash out every night. She remembers her first night as if it were last night. There was a heavy scent of alcohol, cigarettes, and sex in the club. The lights were bright and the music was so loud she felt every thump inside her body. The music began to speak to her, it began to inspire her, and she found the music released her inner stripping beast. She felt as if she was on fire and couldn’t wait to take off her clothes and had to remind herself that her job was to strip which meant slow the fuck down and enjoy herself. She explains that when she was on stage that as she looked out into the crowd that the lights created halos around everyone and it all became like a dream. She could not believe how excited she had become and she wanted to just continue dancing, never stopping. She danced on the stages only that first night and tells me that it was absolutely fucking amazing. The first night was an experience that she will not soon forget and she thinks about it when she is feeling down. When we were closing on her first night she was called to bar to settle up with her cash out. She had made $3,458.00 and after cashing out she was taking home $1,383.00 as her cut. She left a very happy camper, thinking that she made that amount of money in 5 hours of being at the club. She estimated that in 2 weeks she could take home close to $20,000.00 just for dancing and stripping her clothes to put on a fantasy show. Then reality set in, she had a job, she had a job teaching, a career which she spent allot of money to go to school for. Then she got to thinking, her teaching career will only yield $34,000.00 her first year there and this job would be estimated to make her well over $200,000.00 if she only worked part-time. She decided to finish out the week that she was off from school. On the day that she was to return she counted her earnings, she had made just shy of $11,000.00 and it made her think real hard about going home. Should she just say fuck it and stay? Should she say fuck the money and go back to teaching? Her friend chose to stay out of the thought process and keep quiet. Stacy had made her decision, she grabbed her bag and walked out the door.

The following Monday she arranged a meeting with the principal because she wanted to talk things over with her. After the formalities of the start of the meeting, Stacy presented the principal with her resignation, her keys, and her identification badge. When she was asked what she was going to do now, Stacy replied with a smile and said she is moving to Houston to make a better life for herself financially. She was asked if she will be needing a letter of reference and of course she declined putting them to any trouble since it wasn’t needed. She went home, her parents home where she had been living in her old bedroom to say money, and explained to her parents that she was moving to Houston and please don’t ask any questions. Then, just like that, she got in her car and made the trip back to Houston. When she arrived it was real late and Sonia wasn’t at home so Stacy figured she would pay her a surprise over at the club. She came in and walked up to my bar and asked for a shot of tequila. When I turned with the shot I realized who I was handing it to and to tell the truth, I was very surprised to see her sitting there. She had missed two nights of work and I wasn’t even sure if she still had a job. She planned ahead, she told the trainer she had an emergency back home in Fabens and would return in two days time. She headed off to the dressing rooms to get ready to get to work. She figured nobody was going to pay her to hang out at the bar and shoot the shit with me. I noticed during her first dance of the night that she was a changed person, no longer lost, no longer confused, and was ready to take like by the horns and ride it like she stole it. She said that she hadn’t felt so enthusiastic about anything else so far in her life, she was ready for the career change, the lifestyle change, and her personal change. Getting close to the end of our talk I had to ask her what it was like for a small town girl who considered herself sheltered to be here dancing, to be here stripping, to be here with the purpose of being naked. Her answer surprised the shit out me to be honest. She said for the first time in her life she was in control, she controlled what people thought of her, she controlled what people thought they wanted for her, and she enjoyed the absolute rush of taking a guy to the extremes and back leaving his head spinning wondering what in the fuck just happened. Plus, she wanted a piece of the money that was being offered here. She loves the game of mind-fucking the men to the point where they don’t care how much money they are putting on the table. When I personally quit the club and quit bartending, Stacy had been there about six months or so. She never really changed from having that small town charm. When she danced she owned your mind and she knew it, that is what made her so good at it.

From Stripper To AMMO Troop

00000 1379004160623I don’t know how many times I get found by accident by people not knowing they are actually looking for me. What do I mean? Well, take the young lady that has sent my next story to be featured on The Magic Weekend. She, and I will put her exact words in a bit from her e-mail, said she had heard about my blog from friends of hers. Come to find out, as you will read, she recognized me as someone she actually knew in real life. I know, bizarre. She explains we have two things in common that I might not be aware of, first of all being that she began as a stripper at the club I worked at in Houston around 2 weeks before I quit. Second, she has since joined the United States Air Force and she is now proud to call herself an Ammo Troop. We do have a bit in common it would appear. She mentions in her e-mail that she is about to leave the United States to be stationed at Osan AB (South Korea) as her first base. Without anymore from me, let’s get into her e-mail and story.

“Hey Mr. Bartender”

I realize you may not recognize or remember me but I remember you. and that is what is important. I think before I tell my story I will give you a little background about myself. When I was in community college I accepted a bet from friends of mine. When we would go out and party I would get told that I dance like a stripper and I have the body of a stripper. When you are drunk, anything sounds like a compliment right? Anyway, one thing started another and before I knew it I had accepted a bet that I couldn’t get hired as a stripper. After a little research on the internet I thought I had found where I wanted to “apply” and I went for it. Call it strange if you will but I had come across your blog and I remembered some it when I got hired to strip. The first couple of nights the club had a female bartender working at the dance floor bar. Then I saw a sign about how to get free drinks. It dawned on me at that time that the person who wrote that blog was actually real. When I asked where you were they told me you would be in to work in a few days. When I saw a few of the strippers wearing a “Jesus Loves Strippers” t-shirts I knew I had to have one but only you had them in some kind of private stash. Come to find out, you kept them locked in your locker. The night you showed up to work I heard the rumors that you had quit and would only be here about another two weeks. I did get my t-shirt and I was one of the “select” strippers who was involved in your farewell party. After around 6 weeks I ended up quitting. I proved a point, I could get hired as a stripper. Second point I proved was I was good at it. In fact, in that 6 week period I grossed nearly six grand. Not bad in my opinion, not bad at all. I also was done with my two years at community college (HCC) and I already had plans to join the Air Force. When I joined I was undecided as to what career I wanted to get into. One thing has led to another and as it worked out I have graduated from Munitions Tech School (AMMO school) and now I’m on the way to Osan AB, South Korea. Which is where my actual “weekend story” begins.

I knew what I had to do, I wanted to have one last party to end all parties. I hope it is okay, but this story ends up getting pretty graphic. After graduation I headed back to Houston to visit my family, visit friends, and have this last party. I picked that I wanted to go to Galveston and party all weekend on the beach. I bought a new bikini in hopes that I would get some unsolicited attention. When we got to the beach, me and two of my girl friends, were ready to get the party started. I was on a mission, I wanted to be shit faced slobbering drunk by noon and wanted to stay that way until midnight the following night, Sunday. We started drinking out on the beach about 9 in the morning and we were out of beer and wine coolers by 1 in the afternoon. It was pretty hot so we decided to go up to one of the bars and drink it up in the shade. We carried on like this for hours. I don’t know which of us was the drunkest because we were all pretty toasted. Late in the afternoon I convinced the bartender that I was too tired to drink and from that point forward I would just lean my head back and he would pour whatever I was drinking straight down my throat. This worked out for quite some time and before it was over all three of us were getting our drinks this way. My girls and I were talking about how I wouldn’t be seeing them for about a year or more and they were worried I wouldn’t know what to do without them. Then, out of the fucking blue, one of them asked if I planned on losing my virginity to some lucky Korean man. They said this laughing and it really sank in making me think. Here I am almost 22 years old and I have never hooked up with anyone. It’s been close but no cigar. If you can count heavy petting, stroking, and a hand-job with a happy ending close. I was a better flirt. I liked to tease. I liked to fuck with the boys until I got visual proof that I had their complete attention and then I would just walk away. I have spent many years drinking for free just for a flash of tit or a quick peek of clit. It is who I am, I don’t just fuck whoever and I think that bugs my friends. My two best friends who would bring guys to my apartment and fuck them while I was watching television or doing homework and they would do this right in front of me. Needless to say I have seen almost every inch of my friends, maybe that is why we remain so close. If they ever knew I had a lot of pictures of them they might just up and leave my ass.

I made a decision right then and right there, I was not leaving the United States a virgin and that magic was going to happen this weekend even if I had to knock some guy out and do it myself. Surely he wouldn’t mind waking up realizing he just had his brains fucked out by a total wacked out stranger. I will leave that as a last resort. I let my friends in on my little secret and they, of course, decided to go absolutely nuts with it. I wasn’t looking for commitment and I wasn’t looking for a phone call the following day, I just didn’t want to get shipped off to the other side of the world a virgin. We kept drinking well into the night, stopping only to eat and pee every once in a while. My friends noticed that the bartender had been “checking” me out so I decided to play with his heads a bit and see what I could start. This time I knew I was going to start it and I was going to finish it, period. Lookout blue eyes because here I come. First I decided I would switch spots with one of my friends so I could be facing the bartender and he could get a good view of the show that was about to start. Before long I found myself doing a little flash here and there. When I would do it I could see him looking like he wasn’t looking but he always made sure he was in a spot where he had the full unobstructed view of what I was doing and what I was playing with. At 2 in the morning everyone had cleared out, to include my girl friends. It was just me and the bartender. He kept hinting that the bar was closed and he would like to clean up so he could go home. But I wasn’t done dammit. He gave me permission to hang out while he tidied up and then he caught me staring at him and I was busted. I think he knew I was already fucking him in my daydream. He asked if there was anything else he could do for me before he escorted me out so he could lock up. It was now or never, he wasn’t going anywhere. I stood up as I stared him down behind the bar while I untied my bikini top first, followed by my bottoms. I stood there in the buff for a few moments before heading to the bar. I wanted to get there before he had a chance to tell me he was married or had a girlfriend which would make all I did just be make a fool of myself. I climbed up onto the bar, laid back, and placed my legs up around his neck and demand he not say a word until I was done with him. I gave only one instruction to that bartender, I told him he had better fuck me so hard I even forget my own name because I am leaving the country in a few days and want this to be what I remembered.

I really wish I could remember how it all went. I know that when I woke up the following afternoon I was sore everywhere a person could be sore. I know that he did what I asked because I noticed a little bit of him was dripping down my legs still, as well as his juices were all over me, including on my forehead and in my hair. My friends were curious to how many guys or how many times I had a go at it. All I told them is that it was my dirty little secret. Funny, he left me a note with his phone number saying to look him up when I get back and maybe we can go out for dinner. How sweet. So, I did it, I will not be leaving the country a virgin after all.”

Now, since receiving this email I have actually spoken to her on the phone and gave her some “insight” about the ins and outs of being at Osan AB. Also, I have some long time friends that live there still after they retired so I passed that information on to her as well. Meanwhile I called one of them to let him know what to expect and to take care of my new friend. This actually happened about 2 weeks ago but I have been busy here re-working my new blog and have just now been able to get to writing it. She is gone now, arrived safely in Osan and from what I have heard she is fitting in nicely. She promises to send me more stories if she has any weekends that become memorable. I know I will hear from her and then so will y’all. For sure Jill has fulfilled one of the five categories and that qualifies her to be here because it has been one of the better Sex stories I have heard in quite some time.0000 1379004446238