Saturday, July 19, 2014

Palooza

I stripped for a group from Ohio last night at a rental house in Gulf Shores, Alabama. They called their event a Palooza, meaning a large party, even though it was really a bachelorette party resembling every other bachelorette party. There were 23 women in attendance, most of them blonde and all of them shrieking loud enough to piss their neighbors off.
They requested a cowboy outfit, so I wore leather pants, my cowboy boots, a white button-down shirt, and a black cowboy hat.
The women hovered in the early 20’s age range, but many of their mothers were present. Only one of the mothers participated with me. The rest watched, cheered, and laughed as I laid their daughters spread eagle on the living room and humped them.
For some reason, everyone wanted me to focus my attention on Lauren more so than the bride. Lauren was a tall and cute brunette. I didn’t even notice her until the bride mentioned her and pointed. Lauren hid in the kitchen, and buried her face into her hands when the crowd pointed her out. She wanted to disappear, but her friends chanted her name until she relented. Peer pressure is a bitch sometimes.
As I dragged her out from the kitchen, I asked the crowd, “So why is it so special that I get Lauren? Is there something I need to know?”
“Lauren is really innocent,” one girl shouted.
“Yeah, she’s a virgin!”
“Teach her a thing or two,” another girl said.
Everyone laughed. Lauren turned as red as a fresh tomato. I made sure to give her an extra amount of intimate contact. The room erupted in glee as I teabagged her. Lauren took all of the embarrassing antics in stride, smiling and hugging me once it was over.
The crowd wanted more as their hour drew to an end, but I was done. Due to the presence of the mothers, there was only so much I could do in an hour’s time frame before my routine became repetitive. We took pictures together, and everyone thanked me with faces full of smiles.
On my way out, I ran into one of the mothers. She told me that two of her daughters were in there. One ran from me, but her other daughter bore the onslaught of my performance.
Stripping in front of a mother and daughter combination was nothing new to me, but I always wondered how the mothers felt as they watched their daughters engage in salacious acts with a complete stranger. I never thought to ask about it until now.  
“Just curious, how do you feel watching a male stripper do bad things to your daughters?” I asked the mother. “Does it feel weird at all?”
“Oh, pretty innocuous about it,” she replied. “It’s probably weird for my daughters because I’m watching. But I think it’s pretty funny.”
As she told me this, two girls strode up us wearing a pair of men’s white underwear that encompassed the both of them. One girl, facing forward, had the crotch end on, and the other girl, directly behind her wore the ass end of the underwear. The underwear appeared stretched to its seams and ready to rip apart any moment. They waddled around the living room lacking coordination like they were competing in a three-legged race.
I assumed that the other girls had something planned for later with this shared underwear phenomenon. Women come up with some pretty creative games.  


Sunday, July 13, 2014

Fickle Females

Saturday - July 13, 2014

Last night my agent booked me for two parties. The first one at 7 P.M. and the second one at 9 P.M.

There was one problem though. The drive time between the two parties was two hours.

My entire performance tends to last about an hour. It takes me that long to cycle through a variety of activities and girls. The customers expect an hour due to the large amount of money they hand out, so anything less than that causes dissatisfaction.

Tardiness also causes dissatisfaction. There was no way I would make the second party by 9 P.M., even if were to speed down the interstate.

I called the second party to ask if I could bump the time to 10 P.M. The girl who answered said that the time had already been delayed to 9 P.M. She originally requested that I show up at 8. "We plan on hitting up the clubs once you leave and we don't wanna go out too late," she said.

Because the first party booked me a week in advance, I had to honor their 7 o'clock reservation. As a result, I had to cancel my second show.

I called my agent and told him.

"No problem," he said. "I'll just get another guy to do it."

The rest of my evening continued as planned.

The first party, a surprise 40th birthday party, was amazing. It was located in an upscale neighborhood that had a pristine golf course. The ladies showered me with money like they had too much of it. They eagerly participated in all my activities, and everyone seemed to have a great time, myself included. I left with over a hundred dollars in tips.

Once I got home, I made dinner and sat down to relax. I was tired, hungry, and wanted to relax in my living room for the rest of the evening.

Then at 9:48 P.M. the phone rang.

It was the customers from the second party, the one I had to cancel.

"Hey, we're trying to call your company and no one is answering," she said. "I figured that you may know someone we can talk to."

"What's wrong?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Well, your company told us that they got an Italian guy to show up. So we told the security at the front gate of our condo that an Italian guy would show up ... Well, a guy showed up, but he looks nothing like the picture. First of all, he's black. He definitely does not match the picture of the guy we picked. And he has some other guy with him, which is just weird. We gave security the description and name of an Italian guy. They won't let this guy and his friend in, and we don't really want them to come into our place."

"I'd like to help you," I offered. "But I probably won't be able to get a hold of my agent. He's pretty busy with the phones on Saturdays."

"Can you come strip for us?" she asked.

"I don't feel comfortable taking another guy's job from him," I said. "And it'd take me two hours to get ready and get out there."

"I see," she said. "Wait, I think your company is calling. Let me take this. I'll text you afterwards. Bye."

As soon as I got off the phone, my agent sent me this text message: "Call the Orange Beach party. They may take you."

I replied: "Yes. They wanted me to it. I think they turned the other guy away."

My phone rang again. This time it was my agent.

"These fuckin' racist bitches are really pissin' me off," he said in a tone mixed with anger and exasperation. "They don't want the guy who showed up because they think he's black. He's fuckin' LATINO! I told them that, but they still think he's black. They're demanding a white guy, even though this guy drove an hour and a half to their location. Anyway, if you want to still do this party, it's yours."

"The earliest I can get out there is midnight," I said. "And they've already been flaky twice tonight. The last thing I want to do is drive all the way out there just for them to give me attitude or turn me away."

"I hear ya," he said. "I mean, you offered to do they show at 10 P.M. earlier and they said it was too late. Now it's fuckin' 10 o'clock and these dumb bitches want you to drive out there. If they took the time you originally said, then we wouldn't even have this problem right now. I swear, sometimes I just want to reach my hand through the phone and choke the shit out of some of these bitches."

"Just curious. Do male customers who book female strippers ever give you these problems"

"Not very often. It's almost always the women. They complain about every fuckin' thing imaginable. Guys are easy. Just send them a hot girl with ass and titties and they're happy. Girls are a constant pain in my fuckin' asshole. They want some fantasy guy that they been dreaming about for the last 20 years to suddenly appear and strip for them, and if you don't send them someone that perfectly fits that bill, they raise hell. They bitch when the guy is 3 minutes late. They bitch about everything. Like I said, I'd like to just smack 'em a bunch of times."

In the end, I decided against doing the party. My agent was more than understanding.

After I got off the phone, the girl from the second party sent me a text message asking me to come out to perform. She said I could show up around midnight.

I did not reply.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Book Release Coming Soon

The Cover of the Book
My book is complete and going through the final editing stages right now. It will be released later this month (or beginning of August at the very latest) for the Amazon Kindle. Other mediums will follow, including physical copies for those who dislike ebook readers.

The book will be a complete guide on how to become a male stripper, covering the insides of the industry and the types of work out there. It will also explain how to deal with customers, agents, and potential problems on the job.

In addition to the how-to guide, the book will contain the following exclusives:

- A list of companies that are hiring male strippers

- Candid interviews with seasoned male strippers and booking agents.

- A closer look at the darker side of male stripping

- 4 new exclusive and never-seen-before stories.




Monday, June 30, 2014

Party Log: June 27, 2014

Friday, June 27

Bachelorette party.

Orange Beach, Alabama.

7 girls.


My agent called me last Friday and asked if I wanted to do a last minute party for a group of Tennessee girls at 3 p.m. Unfortunately, I had a work meeting that afternoon and would be unavailable till later that night. He called them back, relayed that information, and rescheduled a show for 9 p.m.

"I told these girls you were in the military and had to work earlier," he said when he called me back. "They sound horny for you now."

I laughed. Based on his words, I could tell that this would be a great crowd. My call to the customer confirmed this assumption. Her name was Katrina, and she sounded ecstatic over the phone. "We're sooo looking forward to this!" she said. "This is for my sister, and she always wanted a male stripper."

"Have you ever had a male stripper before?" I asked. I needed to know, because male stripper virgins usually need a quick guide on what to do.

"Once," Katrina said. "For my bachelorette party a couple years ago. He was terrible. So terrible that it was funny! I ended up dancing for him. He didn't even know what he was doing. He said it was his first time stripping and all."

Now I knew that the bar was set really low. All I had to do was show up and pull off my normal routine, and these girls would be happy. "Can't believe his company sent him alone to his first party," I said.

I showed up in a cop uniform, as Katrina requested. Her little sister, the bride, bought into the charade. She thought that I was the actual police until I began taking my shirt off in front of her and dancing. She squealed in pleasant surprise. She loved my performance, but I had to regulate my physical interaction with her to a more tame level. She did not want to incur her future husband's wrath, according to her words.

The other girls were more receptive towards my perverted activities. Especially Katrina. I gave her a male stripper version of a lap dance, which involved rubbing my frontal bulge against her pussy. She said, "Wow, I think I suddenly feel very hot."

"And wet," I joked.

Everyone laughed. The other activities we did consisted of body shots and blindfolds. The girls played along flawlessly. I couldn't have asked for a better crowd. My performance had the King Midas touch where anything and everything I did was golden.

Once I was done, the girls commented about how much better I was than the last male stripper. Out of curiosity, I asked what he did.

"He just said that it was his first time," one girl said.

"Yeah, he just kept taking off clothes after clothes," Katrina said. "He was wearing layers of clothes. And he didn't have a good body or was good looking. I was very disappointed and wanted him to leave, but the other girls told me that he was expensive, so I had to tolerate him. So I was like ... fuck it ... I'll make the best of it, so I started dancing for him and all the other girls and made it into a good time.

"But we loved your performance, Dion! That was what I wanted out of a male stripper," Katrina said.

"Well, thank you. But it was your group that made it fun. You and your friends participated in all my activities and were enthusiastic about it all. That's what makes a good party. It's the male stripper and the audience meeting at the center, and your group met me more than halfway."

Everyone was flattered by my response, but it was the truth. Participation is key to any show. Imagine going to a rock concert where no one sings or claps along. The audience just sits there in silence listening passively to the music. In turn, their dullness affects the band on stage, preventing them from drawing any sense of motivation or energy. Crowd reactions make or break a show, whether it's a rock band, a comedian, or a male stripper.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Male Stripping As A Career

"How much money can I make a week?"
"Your job sounds awesome! Can I quit my job and strip full-time for a living?"
"Do you think I can pay my way through college by stripping for women?"
I hear these questions in one form or another from guys all the time. I understand that they’re looking for an easy method of making a living. What easier way than to strip for women, right? Just strip like those girls do, dance, and all the money will flow in…
If only things were that easy.
In this day and age, a lot of dreamers want to make a living doing the easiest thing possible. Hence, we have all of the aspiring artists, models, musicians, writers, and film directors who want to get paid doing what they love instead of joining the assembly line like everyone else. Like all other aspects in life involved in making a living, money talks and a savvy business sense marks the difference between failure and success. 
Male stripping is an easy way to make money, but it's not a stable one. Some weeks will have full bookings while other weeks may be dead. People throw parties at arbitrary times, not on a constant work week schedule throughout the year. Imagine relying on shows to pay your rent during dead spells. That’s living the starving artist lifestyle.
If you want to strip full time, then you’re going to need to work your ass off. Treat the job like a business. Maximize your exposure to as many potential customers as possible through booking agents and local businesses, such as bridal stores and lingerie stores. This job isn't just about signing up and letting the beautiful women and large sums of money fall into your lap. You have to go out there and earn it. You have to make yourself stand out among your competitors and let customers know where you are.
Making a living from these gigs is unlikely. The majority of the successful male strippers have full-time jobs while stripping is just a side job. Most of the male strippers who strip for a living tend to live hand-to-mouth in poverty, unless they strip for the most prestigious companies that have a huge customer base already. Only a select few can harvest enough cash from stripping alone to live comfortably.
Unfortunately, male stripping is similar to modeling; there is no longevity in the career. People pay as long as you look good. You get fat or old, then the money stops. That means that there’s a limited amount of time one can work this job. A guy who starts at 20 years old can put around 10 to 15 years into the job before hanging up the G-string for good, depending on how well he ages. Some lucky guys with good genetics can even last 20 years or so. In the end, age will put an end to the career because no one wants an old man stripping for them.
Another issue with male stripping is the lack of marketable job skills. It is true that a man can become a better public speaker and more charismatic through being a male stripper. By the nature of our job we have to be great public speakers. Unfortunately, this skill does not translate well into the regular workforce since stripping does not provide any valid qualities in a job resume. In fact, listing this job on a résumé is more of a detriment than a boon.
Also, there is no pension or retirement fund. For those of you who manage your own plans, that’s not exactly a bad thing, but most people don’t oversee their own retirements or even put aside savings. So when you turn 40 years old and your employer thinks you’re too old to work, don’t expect to retire and collect a pension like you’re in the military. You better have some savings set aside or another career to fall back on. Otherwise, you’ll be joining the other entry-level applicants at minimum wage. 
Even though the career is finite, you can always make connections at work. Some customers are CEOs or managers of successful companies and may want to hire you if you act like a professional. During my gigs, I have received quite a few lucrative job offers because the customers thought I had confidence and great customer service skills. You will meet people of all backgrounds at these shows, so take time to get to know them instead of bragging about yourself, and you may benefit from it.  

Despite your success in the industry, continue to polish up on marketable skills because you never know what will happen to your job. Always be adaptable to change.