The summer I sold tequila on the nude beach I met two young women who were pretty but did not look like what I thought strippers should look like. They encouraged me to visit them at the strip club where they worked as non-contact private dancers (that means that they danced in front of a man but there was no physical contact between them). I found the whole thing intriguing but felt I was ‘above’ being a stripper. I had been using my big beautiful brain and purposefully not using my looks most of my adult life.
I reluctantly took an office job which I hated. I felt it was time for me to go back to being a responsible adult after my six months of travel and summer on the nude beach. Months past and I was bored so I looked for a bigger challenge. I found a better office job in outside sales and I worked my tail off for three months. I wasn’t given a sales quota as they expected new sales people to sell basically nothing the first quarter as they learned. I was aggressive and sold more than most of the seasoned sales staff, people who had been there for years. At the end of the probation period, they fired me. I was so shocked I laughed. I thought it was a joke. They explained that they wanted to build a company that was like a family, they wanted staff that would stay for the long term. I was so ambitious they figured I would just use them as a stepping stone and be onto something bigger in less than a year. I suppose they were right.
It was May 18 and I knew beach season would be starting up again soon. I was relieved to be free of the office world. I also decided to do something impulsive. I bought a wig and some slutty cloths. I went into the strip club and applied for a job as a private dancer and was hired immediately. I didn’t know anything about this world, this culture and I made some serious mistakes…but I knew how to sell and that’s what I did. I worked the room and I sold private dances. I was unstoppable. The customers loved me. Everyone else hated me. They thought I was cheating, charging less, ‘undercutting’ the other girls. It was untrue. I was charging more. I made more money than I had ever made but feared for my safety every night. It was a rush. I was someone else, disguised, a sexual vixen, desired by men, hated by women. I had all the power. The men weren’t allowed to touch me, they weren’t allowed to jerk off. I didn’t touch them. They could just look at what they could not have. I knew they would think about me later, when they were with their wives or girlfriends or when they were alone. I knew some of them probably jerked off in the bathroom or in their car after. I got off on their lust. I had a lover that I went home and fucked every night and every morning. All that sexual energy, I was like a cyclone.
This lasted for only four short months but it was enough time to save up for a down payment for a condo. I could have kept going but a violent, dangerous situation finally made me fear for my safety enough to leave that place. It was only a matter of time before something bad happened. I was not safe there.
I realize there are those who may be quick to judge and compartmentalize…saying that I’m less of a Domme for having experimented with submission (previous blog entries) or that I’m not worthy of respect because I was a stripper. I know too well the stigma that is attached to that profession. I encourage you to look at the individual and the unique set of circumstances before passing judgement and painting everyone with the same brush. This is the story of how I became who I am today and no one can deny that I am a very successful Female Dominant. In the words of the great Shrek, “I’m like an onion, I’ve got layers.”
You are an amazing Woman. 🙂 Reading about your life is thrilling and inspiring.
Thank you for the compliment. I suppose if I inspire one person to reach higher than it’s worth it.
Stripping is a great art.
Yes, I suppose it is a form of art. I worked hard to be good at it…although in the beginning it was more about getting them into the private dance room, then keeping them in there was where the actual stripping came into play. If you’re sensing some foreshadowing that the 4 months wasn’t the end of it, you’re right. Stay tuned.
Loved reading about your journey. I applaud you for acting impulsively, making it work, and then getting out when you new it was your time. Perhaps more people could lead their lives that way. . .
Are you so sure I got out when I knew it was my time? The story isn’t over yet m’dear. *smile* (Foreshadowing)