From wisenack@mrwonderful.org Mon Mar 17 05:02:00 1997
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From: wisenack@mrwonderful.org (Wisenack)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: "Stripper Tells All"
Date: Mon, 17 Mar 1997 10:02:00 GMT
Message-ID: <97031920071414365@mrwonderful.org>
Organization: Http://www.cris.com/~Barcenas  Mr. Wonderful's Lair!... BBS, Los Angeles, CA
Distribution: world
Lines: 310       

------------------------------------------------------------------------
The following story is adult in nature and should not be viewed by those
who are a) under the age of 18 and/or b) offended by such literature.

I did not write this story.  I am only posting it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------


     Hi!  My name is Tamara, and I have been an exotic
dancer (i.e. stripper) for the past seven years.  I'm
26 years of age, and would like to share part of my story
with any of you who wish to read on.

                           -- --

     I first started to realize that showing off my body,
and having others look at it, was a real turn-on for me
back in high school.  I joined the cheerleading squad as a
sophomore, and was the co-captain during my senior year.
Our football team was horrible, but the basketball team was
pretty good.  Nonetheless, I enjoyed cheering for both,
equally.  I really loved it when I would catch spectators
in the audience eyeing me.  I would look back at them, while
in my dance routine, and if they continued to stare... then
I would turn a little flirtatious.  It just really made me
hot to know that someone was more interested in watching me
prance around in my little uniform, rather than pay
attention to the game... what they paid for in the first
place.  I got some really hot dates this way too!

     Growing up in California, it was always easy for me to
show off my body.  I used to go down to the beach every day
in the summer, and would flirt with guys while wearing a
string bikini or barely-there swimsuit.

     But after graduating from high school, I decided to
attend a major college in Arizona.  There, I was accepted
onto the cheerleading squad, and that kept me busy during
football and basketball seasons.  There were, for instance,
40,000 or so spectators in the stands for a football game.
But, I always pretended all of them were watching me, not
the game.  I pretended that they wanted me.  And, the
feelings always made me feel hot inside.

     After the basketball season ended in my freshman year,
there would be no more cheerleading for several months.
This depressed me.  I was talking with my friend, Brandy,
one evening about how much I liked being a cheerleader, and
how much I would miss it.  Brandy said that if I really
enjoyed showing off my body, I should look into becoming an
exotic/nude dancer.

     Brandy said that she worked at an upscale club in an
Arizona city, and they were looking for new "talent".  I
never really thought of being a stripper before, but once
Brandy flashed $300 or so at me (her earnings from her last
evening of work, she claimed), I decided to give it a try.

     Brandy escorted me to the club and introduced me to the
manager.  He talked to me, but the most distinct thing I
remember about that evening was the lights in the building.
There were lights everywhere, all different colors, and the
music was blasting.  Women decked out in skimpy dresses and
outfits, or stripped down to a G-string, dancing around on
the various stages.  It was like a wild party!

     I went to the manager's office, and he interviewed and
then hired me.  Being a cheerleader and having a background
in dancing really helped me in learning how to become a
bona-fide stripper.  I was on stage within a week after
taking part in practices.

     I will never forget my first evening on the stage.  The
emcee told the customers to go "easy on me", because it was
my initial performance.  I was wearing a tight-fitting red
dress with white polkadots, and the hemline was cut so that
half of my ass was exposed.  I wore an orange G-string under
the dress, along with spiked high-heels, and nothing else.

     By the time I had swayed and sashayed around the stage,
my dress off and tossed elsewhere, I remember just a load of
dollar bills being thrown in my direction.  I dropped to my
knees and continued to dance, gyrating my pelvis, and it
seemed as though even more money was being thrown in my
direction.  It was incredible!

     When my routine was over, I gathered up all the money
and went back to the dressing room.  I simply could not
believe it : $52 in tips, just for one performance!

     I went out and waited tables in the club's standard
french maid outfit for about two hours and picked up some
more tips, before going backstage once again.

     I put on a new outfit and went back onto the stage,
then stripped once again.  $71 in tips, for my second dance
performance.

     My total earnings from that night, base pay and tips,
was almost $250.  I remembered making $250 in TWO WEEKS
once back in high school, when working a bunch of overtime
hours at the diner.  Yet, I had made that much in one night,
as an exotic dancer.  If I knew I could make this much cash
in just one evening, I would have become an exotic dancer
the very day I turned 18.

     And I planned on doing this five nights each week!

                           -- --

     As I became more experienced, it seemed as though I
could entice more and more money from the customers.  I
do not know if the average person realizes how much an
exotic dancer can make in one evening, but here I was, as
a 19-year-old, making an average of $400 per night.  My
best night, while attending college, was $783 : believe it
or not!  Sometimes it's still hard for me to believe.

                           -- --

     Unfortunately, my former boyfriend and I were not
careful one evening, and he wound up getting me pregnant.
This happened when I was 20, a year or so after I had
gotten into stripping.

     Ken (former boyfriend's name) kind of freaked out, and
said that he wanted me to get rid of the baby before it was
born (abortion).  I told him no way, and a big argument
ensued.  We argued for days, and it soon turned into weeks.
Finally, I told him to get lost... I would take care of the
baby once he or she was born.  After all, I had built up a
pretty nice bank account.

     The idiot left and subsequently dissapeared.

     But, I had to live off that bank account for over a
year.  I also had to drop out of college : it would have
been too embarrassing to be my age at that time, walking
around pregnant, in college,  I also had to put my dancing
career on hold.  How many pregnant strippers do you see?

     Eric was born on July 21, 1991 : I was 21.  I wanted
very badly to get back into stripping, but the club I had
worked at for so long didn't have any current openings.  I
had went to the local health club almost every day for
several months after the baby was born, working myself back
into "showgirl shape".

     I applied with a few other clubs and was finally hired
at one.  This one paid even more money than the other, and
the tips were better.  Of course, I had to do more.

                           -- --

     While Eric stayed with a babysitter, I danced and
pranced my way to an average of $1,000 per night, three
evenings each week.  The music and light show in this club
was spectacular, but I really enjoyed the new experience of
the private dance.  That is where my main money came from.

     Eager men, most of them twice my age, would give me
handfuls of cash each evening for a private dance.  I would,
in turn, sit them down upon a sofa, and then strip right in
front of them.  My act also included leaning down close, to
where my body was just inches away from theirs.  I would
dangle one of my large breasts just an inch or two from
their quivering mouth : but each knew they were not allowed
to touch (although, some did).

     If I felt the customer was nice, I would give an added
bonus : taking a seat in his lap, and then engaging in a
friendly conversation for five minutes.  This type of
contact was allowed, as long as it didn't escalate to
anything more.

     I could tell that having a busty, nude blonde such as
myself in a man's lap really turned them on.  They handed
even more money over.

     I got the idea that a lot of men would enjoy having
their picture taken with a exotic dancer, such as myself.
Thus, I started charging (and still do today) $10 for one
poloroid picture, or three pictures for $25.  I am almost
always down to a G-string and spiked heels, and then pose
and smile with the man/customer while another dancer takes
our picture together.

     A few months after I started offering this service, one
of my friends suggested that someone had probably made their
photograph into a computer image, and had most likely spread
it throughout the Internet.  That did not bother me.  As you
probably can tell, I'm not the shy or reserved type!

     I found that my body was a very powerful elixer.  Money
just seemed to be pouring in from everywhere.  Money, which
I would use to create a comfortable lifestyle for not only
myself, but my newborn son as well.

                           -- --

     A lot of people who are against my type of lifestyle
claim that it exploits women.  I do not see it that way.  As
an exoitc dancer myself, I feel that it only exploits the
customers : men!  We dancers do everything possible, within
legal limits, to get the most money out of each customer.
The men at gentlemen's clubs are exploited, because they
come with a lot of cash, but usually leave with an empty
wallet.  Personally, I seduce with my body movements, and
flirt as much as possible... the money being my reward.

     Dancers do not take money from a customer.  We just
offer longer dances... for more money.  And, they usually
give us more money.  It's a very simple yet manipulative
type of profession.

     Today, I am obviously still a dancer.  I'm 26, Eric is
5, and I have been in my current career for seven years now
(as stated earlier).  My son is the main focus of my life.
I love him, just as any mother loves her child(ren).

     Just about the only part I dislike about being an
exotic dancer is picking Eric up each day at school.  That
may not sound right, but let me explain.

     He goes to afternoon kindergarten, and I drop him off
each day at noon.  And most of the time, I look like a mess.
(For Example) My hair is all frizzed out, I'm wearing an old
t-shirt, a pair of raggedy sweat pants and dirt-stained
sneakers.  After I drop him off, I go home and change.

     The problem is, when I go back to school at 3:30 to
pick Eric up, all the other parents (mostly mothers) cannot
believe the transformation they see in me.  For example, I
could be wearing an evening gown, my cleavage exposed.  My
hair is styled perfectly; I'm wearing gobs of make-up and
perfume.  The parents look at me with a question mark on
their face, wondering if this is the same woman who showed
up just a couple of hours earlier.

     I stay in my car in the afternoons, and Eric knows to
walk over and get in himself.  Eric is only 5, but has seen
me in these types of outfits his entire life.  It's nothing
to him.  A sequin gown or a lacey mini-dress are like normal
clothes for me to wear, he thinks.  He does not know that I
am an exotic dancer, and I'm not sure the other parents and
teachers know either.

     I don't like their looks; as if they are saying "Where
are you going?  Why are you dressed that way?".  No one has
ever asked, likely because no one could feel comfortable
asking me such a question.  I don't converse with any of
the "lookers" at Eric's school... I'm never left open to
such a question.

     You may be wondering why I dress for work before
picking my son up.  Well, I have to.  The morning kinder-
garten classes are full, and my shift starts 30 minutes
after getting Eric each day.  There would be no time for
me to get ready!  So, I drive Eric home, and the baby-
sitter is always there outside, waiting for us.  I leave
him with the babysitter, and then go to work... and stay
from 4:00 in the afternoon until midnight.  I only work
three days per week : Monday, Friday and Saturday.  So,
on the weekends, I obviously do not have to contend with
the "lookers" at school.

     But as I said earlier, the average person does not
realize how much an exotic dancer can make.  I work three
days per week, and my average income has now skyrocketed to
$5,000 per week.  I could earn that much in a day if I
truly wanted (legally, too), but I'm content (for now) with
my current earnings.

     All I know is that I could be slaving away somewhere in
an office, involved in business (what I studied in college),
hoping that I could last until my next paycheck.  Instead, I
am an exotic dancer, making in one year what it may take
five, six, seven+ years to accumulate in an "ordinary" job.
I live in a beautiful home, and don't have to worry about
financial things.  I don't have to worry if my son will grow
up healthy and right.  And, at the same time, my job is
something that I truly enjoy.  Yes, I like the money, but I
still enjoy the "showing off" aspect : just as I did as a
cheerleader back in high school.

                           -- --

     I plan to continue my profession until the age of 30.
Then, I hope to "retire".  My final year in the business
will be my most profitable.  I intend to work five nights
per week, and save almost all of the money.

     After that, I have visions of moving up north a bit,
into a place like Idaho, Utah or Montana.  I've always
been intrigued about living in a wide-open area.  I'll buy
a ranch, and get some animals to help keep Eric and myself
company.  I could probably live off my life savings if I
wanted, but will get a job at some place like a craft shop
or country store : something relaxing, that I'd like to do.

     But, my ultimate goal is to find a loving husband, and
have two more children.

     Any volunteers?  ;-)

                                            :: Tamara ::


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