Monday, September 22, 2014

Farrah De Lis Rips Off Agency

When a stripper works for an agent, he or she usually collects the money from the customers upfront before the performance. This money is the initial down payment and does not include tips. After the show, the stripper sends a percentage of that money to the agent in order to get new bookings.

Unfortunately, some strippers decide that this is a great opportunity to steal. They simply keep the money and never contact the agency again.

Farrah De Lis (her stage name, but you can Google it and get some results) was a prime example.

Farrah De Lis

She worked at one of my agencies, and they booked her and another dancer called Holly, who was her friend, to strip at an all-night bachelor party in New Orleans, from 8 p.m. until 2 a.m. in the morning, six hours total. The guys had a limo and wanted Farrah and Holly to go to the clubs and hang out with them the duration of the night. According to my agent, Farrah De Lis was to collect $900 and send $200 of it to the company. The $200 covered both of the dancer's booking fee. That deal was more than fair in this industry, and Farrah agreed to send her and Holly's portion together since Holly was a new hire.

The first problem came when the customers complained that Farrah and Holly ditched them at 11 p.m., staying only three of the six hours, even though they paid the full $900 up front. They were very pissed at her.

The second problem came when Farrah failed to pay the agent. Two weeks went by. The agent attempted to call and text her because sometimes shit happens, but the phone call went to voice mail after two rings--which the agent thought was Farrah deliberately sending the call to voivemail--and she ignored the text messages.

During this period, Farrah De Lis began applying at other stripping agencies seeking employment. Unbeknownst to her, the agency she ripped off had already sent a warning out to the other agencies. Another national agency recognized Farrah and informed the initial agency that she was "bombarding" them with e-mails looking for work."

Farrah De Lis did not get hired with that agency. Instead, that agent told her flat out that he "doesn't hire dancers who steals money."

Irony has a tendency to strike out at random, and in this case, Farrah was on the receiving end of its blows. A rich customer called the first agency and specifically requested to book Farrah and one other girl for a whole evening for his best friend's bachelor party with a generous budget of $2,000 to spare. That was not including the fat padding of tips, which he assured would flow freely provided the girls do a good job.

To summarize the consequences, Farrah De Lis had forsaken a high-paying gig and much more lucrative work opportunities. She also faces the possibility of theft charges. Most of all, her reputation as a reliable dancer is ruined because the first agency blacklisted her name, and word of bad dancers spread like the flu in the stripping industry.

All for $200. What a dumb thing to do.

And how do I know this?

I was visiting my agent when he booked Farrah, and he later told me the whole story, which I'm now sharing because it teaches one important lesson in life: Don't steal from your employers--it's like chopping off the hand that feeds you.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Story: Her Dirty Little Secret

The following story is a chapter from my book, "Behind the G-String: Dion's Guide to Becoming a Male Stripper"

Her Dirty Little Secret

It’s easy to guess what men do when they fraternize. But when women get together, they partake in activities that would appall and shock most men.
Not all men, though.
For some reason, ladies tend to let their guard down in front of male strippers. Strippers show up to entertain them, not pass moral judgment. We become invisible ghosts at these parties, witnessing acts we would never see under normal circumstances.
I had a bachelorette party in Florida for a group of girls just out of college. There were eight girls total, around 23 to 24 years of age. They requested a cop outfit. My customer contact was a girl named Katelyn, and she seemed lively and eager over the phone. Katelyn and her friends had never had a male stripper before.
When I arrived at their beach condo, Katelyn met me alone outside to pay. She was tall, hovering an inch or two above me. Her blonde hair and doll-like face made for a fetching combination. We discussed my entrance. Then she went inside to wait with the rest of her friends.
Clad in my police uniform with a flashlight in hand, I pounded on the front door. Katelyn opened the door anxiously. I announced that the neighbors had called and complained about the loud noise. Katelyn apologized on the behalf of her friends. I asked if I could come inside and “take a look around.” Katelyn invited me in, and I made my way into the living room, giving a lecture about noise violations and how much their citation fees are. The bride, unaware that I was a stripper, nodded along, vowing to keep the noise down.
Her fearful expression changed to astonishment once someone started the music. I began to strip for her.
She loved my strip show, but she wanted very little physical contact. She suggested I circulate among her friends instead. We went through the typical private party activities: fishing money out of bras with the teeth, the male stripper version of lap dancing, humiliating the shy girls, burying my crotch into a few faces, and some kinky games with the blindfold. Once I finished the activities, it was picture time.
Had the party ended here, it would have been on a good note at the end of a nice melody. Everything went perfectly according to plan. Great crowd, great tips, and a great performance.
However, the girls proposed that I stay with them to play beer pong … with a twist.
Whenever someone scored, the opposing team would have to remove one article of clothing. Hmmm … Eight girls playing a game involving stripping, and I’m the only guy. I did not need much convincing.
We made teams of two. A petite brunette in booty shorts volunteered to team up with me. The other team was Katelyn and the bride.
The other girls rooted for Katelyn and the bride. They wanted me to lose so I could strip completely naked. That was okay with me, but I stipulated that my teammate had to strip first considering I had already removed most of my clothing. The girls agreed. I smiled inwardly. The whole scenario sounded like a rigged lottery where I was the winner regardless of the numbers.
Unfortunately for the crowd, my teammate was amazing at beer pong. Her throws had perfect accuracy, and after a few turns, the bride and Katelyn stood on the other side of the table wearing only their panties. They managed to score once before they lost, causing my teammate to lose her shirt.
We played a new round. We had two new challengers. My teammate and I devastated them down to their thongs. My teammate scored most of the points, but I did all right since I was the only sober one there. Our win came at a price, though—my teammate lost her bra and her booty shorts. Only her pink thong with black polka dots remained.
Throughout our bouts of beer pong, the girls asked me about stripping. “What was your craziest party?” “Do any girls ever try to hook up with you?” One girl suspected me of stuffing my thong. “You put something in there to make it look bigger,” she said. I laughed and shrugged, but didn’t say anything. She would see it soon enough if my team lost.
Two more girls stepped up to the table. They were just as good as my teammate. It was a close game. Both teams had one cup remaining. I almost ringed their cup, but it hit the lip of the cup and bounced away. My teammate missed her shot. The opposing girl threw the ball and it went straight into our last cup.
Everyone cheered and looked at me expectantly.
“Take it off! Take it off!” they chanted. “Take it off!”
They were shouting so loudly that I’m surprised their neighbors did not call the actual police. I reached down undid the metal snaps that kept my thong on.
“Wow! I didn’t know it would snap off like that!” my teammate said. “So I could have just unsnapped it the whole time?”
“Pretty much,” I said, slowly peeling the thong away. “And here’s your answer to the previous question.”
My cock came out and hung down.
All eyes were on my cock. It was like one of those dreams where you’re naked in public and everyone is staring. Except this time, the girls cheered at my nudity rather than staring in horror. Sometimes, reality is better than the dream world.
I resumed dancing with the girls. The performance took on a renewed vigor with everyone being nude or close to it. Breasts bounced and jostled in front of my face. One blonde girl picked up my thong and put it on. It looked nice on her except for the bulging fabric in the front. “It has space for my non-existent package,” she exclaimed.
Everyone laughed. However, my thong looked fantastic on her ass. She pranced around—pretending to be me—dancing on the other girls and thrusting her imaginary penis at them.
The girls who weren’t dancing with me kneaded at each other’s breasts like nursing kittens. They compared density, size, and firmness. This wasn’t the first time I’ve seen such a spectacle, so I wasn’t surprised. But to the average guy, this phenomenon is as incomprehensible as a party of straight males whipping their dicks out and letting each other grab them for comparison. It would never happen.
Katelyn hovered around me most of the time. We discussed books we’d read. She seemed well-read and intelligent. I learned that she worked in marketing and hated her office job. While we were talking, I stole many glances at her large, bare breasts. My cock brushed against her leg and got hard. Katelyn was standing between me and her friends when this happened, so they did not witness my unintended prodding. Katelyn continued talking about her job as though nothing had happened, but her eyes dipped downward and she smiled.
It had been a few hours since I’d arrived. A few girls yawned while one began dozing off on the couch. I thanked everyone and went to collect my belongings.
“I’ll walk you out,” Katelyn offered. “Let me put some clothes on.”
“Okay," I said, knowing full well of her intentions.
We went out of the condo together and walked down the stairs on the front porch. When we got to the bottom, Katelyn turned to me and said, “Well, it was nice to meet you. Take care.” She shuffled around nervously and leaned forward to give me an awkward hug. As she began to pull away at the end of our hug, I grabbed her hands and reeled her toward me. “Okay, to hell with it,” she said.
Our make-out session led to enthused caressing of intimate places. I led her under the stairs so we weren’t in plain view of anyone who happened to be taking a stroll in the parking lot. Voices deep in conversation echoed from the distance, and I didn’t want to give an unintentional peep show. I took my shirt off. Katelyn unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. As I pulled my cock out, she took her shorts off and kept her t-shirt on.
“I wanna fuck you so bad,” she gasped. Next, she squatted down and began sucking my cock in a slick and steady rhythm. She was very good at this. Had she continued for another minute or two, I would have erupted into her mouth. Instead, she stood up and turned around, thrusting her ass towards me. I reached down to my pants, which were around my ankles, and pulled out a condom. I rolled it on and eased my cock into her. She moaned. Just as we were about to establish a comfortable repetitious motion, someone opened the front door of the condo.
We couldn’t see who it was because we were under the stairs. The surprise was neutralizing to our sexual efforts. Katelyn immediately stood up and covered her breasts. “I’m okay,” she shouted to the unidentified friend above.
We heard the sound of the door closing.
“I guess she went back inside,” I said.
We resumed our passion, or as much passion as a couple can produce outside under wooden stairs next to a lit parking lot. The occasional noise of a car door slamming in the distance or voices at another condo set us at unease, but we continued. After we were finished, we kissed.
“So how long are you here till?” I asked her.
“Till Monday morning. Why don’t you come hang out with us at the beach tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I can do that. We should keep in touch. I head up to Georgia on occasion.”
“Really? Call me whenever you’re in town. I have a really nice apartment. You can stay with me, and there are plenty of things to do.”
“Well, what if you have a boyfriend by that time?” I asked.
“I won’t,” Katelyn said. “I just got out of a three year relationship.”
We never finalized any plans. I haven’t heard from her since. It was another night of work for me, but it was lascivious encounter with a male stripper for Katelyn.

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Out of Left Field

The following story was written by Male Stripper Tanner, who was also interviewed in my book. 

Male Stripper Tanner

Friday, August 29, 2014 –

The month of August was a milestone month for me. First, it marked my 1 year anniversary as a male stripper on the private show circuit. Also it was both a busy and lucrative month.  My previous record of $370 earned in one show was smashed by my new record of $634! This major financial triumph also contributed to my most earned record for 1 night of stripping gigs- $1,130! I had two other shows prior to the one that netted $634.

Aside from these financial highlights, every show I performed in went perfect with satisfied customers and a plethora of compliments ranging from my physical appearance to my great showmanship which prompted one surprised and skeptical bachelorette to exclaim - “You handled yourself with flair!”

With such positive reinforcement and great experiences, I was on a high of happiness and confidence. I felt like I could take on any show and bring down the house. This feeling however would meet its dark fate.

An 8pm Friday bachelorette party had been booked for me a month in advance and I was ready to embark on this show and continue my streak of successful shows as August was winding down to its last weekend.

I was given a number to contact and an alternate number for back up. I called prior to leaving to make sure I had the correct address and to get some logistical questions answered. Basically my typical pre-show chat.

“Hello” said a lady with a slight accent.

“Hi, I’m Tanner, how are you?”

I’m fine, how are you?

“Good. I’m this evening’s entertainment.”

“Oh, hi” her voice lit up.

I then proceeded to ask my routine questions such as if this was intended to be a surprise, what kind of music source they had, how many ladies etc...

Everything was confirmed and I was on my way.

The bachelorette party had at least 10 ladies with more expected on their way. The venue was in a high rise apartment on the 7th floor. I parked on the street a block away and proceeded toward their building. I was dressed in my usual suit and tie, and the white collar theme is a typical skit I do that has universal appeal.
I arrived at the main entrance of what was a higher end apartment dwelling.  I realized that there were two sets of glass doors with the second being inaccessible unless someone lets you in.  I proceeded to call the number I had called earlier that evening to inform them I had arrived. It went to voice mail. I then sent a text.

“We’re coming down” was the response.

About two minutes later I saw what appeared to be an attractive black woman approaching the first set of glass doors and pulling them open. I simultaneously made my way to the first set of glass doors and pulled one open and walked in. 

It turned out the lady was Hispanic with a dark tan complexion and she cracked a smile while making steady eye contact with me.

“Hi how are you?” she asked.

“I’m fine, my name is Tanner, how are you?” I replied.

“I’m fine, how are you? Oops, I just asked you that” she said in a shy laughter.

I had the impression she was a little nervous in comparison to the other women I had met in past shows prior to the party.

We promptly headed toward the elevators and she led the way by 2-3 paces. She had on a nice top and had a small waist which accentuated a prominent yet shapely butt and hips hugged firmly by long black tights.

“So have you ever done this before?” I asked

“Have a male stripper? No.” She answered in a smiling yet shy demeanor.

We reached the 7th floor and exited the elevator. I pulled out my IPod Nano and showed her my playlist of songs.

“Press this button, the first song. Don’t hit shuffle. I need the music to proceed in this particular order” I instructed.

“Ok” she replied.

“When I hear the music, I am going to enter the room.”

“Ok” she answered.

At this point through my peripheral vision I spotted someone turning in from the hallway into the corridor were we were standing. It was another lady from the show. She was also Hispanic, stood about 5’4” with a very dark tan complexion. She had acne blemishes on both of her cheeks and she was on the pudgy side. She had a handful of cash.

We locked eyes.

“Where is the guy?” she exclaimed while turning to the lady who met me downstairs.

The first girl gave a puzzled expression. “This is him,” she replied.

As this brief conversation transpired, within fractions of a second, a big “WHAT-THE-FUCK???” crossed my mind. 

“You are not the guy I picked! I picked a guy named Brandon off the site,” she insisted.

At this point all the positive, successful and happy experiences which marked the month of August just flashed by my eyes.  Instead a dark cloud of embarrassment and confusion settled in. To say this lady’s reaction came out of left field would be an understatement.

“You picked who?” I asked to avoid any potential awkward silence.

“I picked Brandon, the Latino guy,” she firmly stated.

At this point I thought maybe reverting to humor could change the tide.

“I’m him, the white version,” I answered back.

My attempt at softening the blow was not effective.

“No you are not, I picked Brandon!” she continued.

At this point the lady who originally met me downstairs immediately shuffled off heading down the hallway and disappeared into a room.

“Look, it’s nothing personal against you but the bride-to-be is expecting Brandon, she even saw his pictures.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say, perhaps he couldn’t make it and I was dispatched here instead” I countered.

“No” she responded while shaking her head.

Prioritizing the need to display professionalism I said “I’m sorry, too bad things didn’t go as planned.”
I then turned and walked away in the direction of the elevators and she subsequently went the opposite direction back to her room.

A shout of “OH MY GOD,” resonated down the hallway as she slammed the door shut.

I later got to my car and texted my agent notifying him of what happened.

“Wow really? That sucks,” my agent texted.

“They wanted some Hispanic guy named Brandon,” I replied. “They’re probably going to call and complain."

“Well they can eat my ass” my agent replied. “You should have walked in and said Hola, I have an el grande penis, lol.”

Although my agent was in high spirits and didn’t seem to mind that the party bailed, I was both embarrassed and pissed off. How can I get an overwhelming positive response from women at my other shows and then encounter something as pathetic as this?  What if all the other women at the party had been given the chance to see me and my performance? Would they have been truly disgusted? It is one thing to perform in front of an unappreciative crowd but getting turned away at the door definitely takes the cake and will always be the highlight of my worst experience in the field of male stripping.

Fortunately I only had a short 11 mile drive back home.  The lesson learned here is when you least expect it, a bad situation can arise unannounced. But in this industry and in life in general, you have to push forward while keeping your composure.

Friday, August 15, 2014

Behind the G-String Paperback Version Out Now

My first book, Behind the G-String: Dion's Guide to Becoming a Male Stripper, is now available in paperback. Buy it at Createspace.

The e-book is also available at Amazon.   

Here is what the readers had to say:

"I just got the book -- it is a great read even if you are not trying to break into the business!"  - LivingImageofAten from Reddit

"This book will give you pretty much all the tools you need to be a successful male entertainer. The stories and interviews add humor and insight into this bare-all profession. I highly recommend this book to all curious about the business."  - Matt

"After reading it, I was able to apply the concept described in the book and was able to seduce many women. Would recommend to my future male children and grandchildren."  - Chris A

Included in the book:

- Candid interviews with male strippers and booking agents

- Brand new and exclusive stories, including the wildest party of Dion's career

- A list of booking agencies that are hiring

- A list of touring companies that are hiring

- How to make yourself more attractive and presentable to the ladies

- An extensive walk-through of a typical stripping routine

- Common myths about male strippers debunked

- How to deal with difficult customers

...And much more!