Malestripperdion.com

From this moment forth, this website will be known as www.malestripperdion.com

You can also type in malestripping.blogspot.com or whatever still, but I figured it was about time I registered my own domain in light of my upcoming book release this year. Plus this site has grown and even earned me money, and I'm quite proud of it. So why not give it some better treatment? I may even update the layout while I'm at it. 

More April Entries

Saturday – April 5, 2014
50th Birthday Party
Santa Rosa Beach, FL

This was an exciting show for me. The birthday lady looked great for turning 50. She was tanned with hair the color of honey, and best of all, she really loved male strippers.

The whole party was a large family, consisting of 8 or 9 sisters and a niece, who was obviously the youngest. I couldn’t believe that such a large family could have only female siblings. Perhaps their father only produced sperm with X chromosomes, and he fired them at his wife over the years with ferocity. Anyway, the sisters celebrated an interesting tradition of getting a male stripper for every sister's 50th birthday in the family. They had done this several times already. For one of the sister’s birthday, they went to LaBare strip club in Houston, Texas. Another celebration took place in Las Vegas with the Chippendales. For this particular event, the birthday girl got me.

They birthday lady and a few sisters participated, touching me without shyness. The niece only watched and worked the music player, refusing to go near me despite the peer pressure from her aunts, but a few of the older ladies enjoyed me. Towards the end, we played a game where we blindfolded the birthday lady and had her take the money out of my thong with her teeth. She used her tongue as a guide, and instead of successfully finding any money, she deliberately lingered on the bulging area where my cock was. Her sisters giggled in the background.

These ladies sure knew how to make turning 50 fun. They could teach some sororities a thing or two about partying.

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Friday – April 11, 2014
Bachelorette Party
Destin, FL

My agent mistakenly booked me for this show. I was supposed to leave out of Tampa on a cruise the next day and planned on driving, not doing a show in Destin. My agent had already booked it though. I did not want to take it, but these girls would suffer without a male stripper otherwise, and it’s hard for me to turn down work. I took the show. Unfortunately, with all the last minute packing and pre-show prepping I had to do, it was no surprise that I ran thirty minutes late.

The customer was a little upset, and I don’t blame her. A limo was picking the party up after my performance, so my tardiness affected everyone there. She relaxed when I arrived.

The bachelorette was absolutely thrilled at having a male stripper, and she went along with every single one of my activities including taking a body shot off my abs or getting teabagged from me doing pushups above her face.

About a dozen girls in their early 20s were in attendance, and they were all stunning. If someone told me that they were all participating in a beauty pageant, then I would have believed it. Not to mention, they were a fun and friendly crowd.

A few of the girls organized a choreographed dance routine of their own and wanted me to join in.  So the end of my performance resulted in me learning the choreography and dancing in sync with the group. It was a lot of fun on my end.

After I finished, the customer came up to me and wanted to know why I was late.

“I have no excuse,” I admitted. “I screwed up.”

“Fair enough” she said. "So how did you manage that?"

I told her the situation about the cruise and my agent booking me when I was supposed to be leaving town. “Basically, I was late because I was doing a lot of last minute packing,” I said.

The customer smiled and said, “That’s a good excuse in my book. Now I can’t be mad at you.”

The limo arrived as the girls and I were walking out. The driver, a male in his 20s, opened the door to let the girls in. Several girls gave me hugs in front of him. One shouted from inside the limo, “You’re the best stripper ever, Dion!”

The limo driver stopped what he was doing and stared at me, just noticing me for the first time. I couldn’t see his face too well because it was dark, but I’m sure he wanted to switch jobs with me.

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Easter Weekend – April 19 & 20, 2014

I sent a text to my agent, letting him know that I was back in town and available for work this weekend. 

He wrote back, “The phones are dead. Everyone is with their families.”

I forgot it was Easter already...

Stripping On A Movie Set - Part 2

Continued from Part 1 - Click here to read

(Author's note: I will combine both part 1 and 2 into one complete post later.)

Ambyr Childers - photo courtesy of Esquire Magazine

Once Tiffanie was done painting the anniversary message on my chest and back, I put on my Metro Police outfit as quickly as I could. After that, the film crew ushered me into a white van, and we took off for the movie set that was being filmed a few blocks away. The driver used a two-way radio to communicate with another person on the set, relaying a message that “the stripper is en route.”

As we approached the movie set in downtown Mobile, I saw several real police cars from the Mobile Police Department cordoning off the movie set with flashing blue lights. One police car was blocking a street. The officer saw us and backed up his car to let our van pass. Everyone got out of the van and escorted me down the block. The scene beyond was surreal.

It was literally out of a movie. They city block looked like an artificial warzone. White smoke from an unseen smoke machine choked the street and sidewalk. The bright white lights from the lighting crew cast a washed out glow among the redbrick of the business buildings, making them look more like a stage set erected during a theater play than actual buildings. A Metro Police car was parked along the sidewalk. This scene made me feel like I was a Metro Police officer responding to the carnage. 

Before I could feel myself get into character, I saw a crowd of people down the street with cameras, lights, chairs, and everything imaginable that belonged on a movie set. My sense of immersion evaporated. 

A large and husky man approached me with a two-way radio and introduced himself as a stunt man. He told me to get into the Metro Police car on the passenger side, and he would drive me towards Ambyr Childers who was going to be in front of a parking garage. The whole movie crew was pretending to film the Metro Police car arriving on scene, and I was going to be one of the officers. Ambyr would assume that I was one of the actors and not suspect anything out of the ordinary.

Even though I was pressed for time, I was enjoying myself. I just wish I wasn’t pressed for time for my next gig so I could relax and take in the whole experience.  

I looked at the parking garage and wondered how the hell I would find Ambyr Childers in that mess. Not only did I not know what she looked like, there were too many people milling about that my brain failed to discern the actress apart from them. Then a petite girl emerged alone from the crowd and walked towards the front entrance of the parking garage accompanied by an older gentleman. They were both talking casually to each other. She caught my attention because she was dressed in some tight and shiny, black leather material from her shoulders downward. Her long blonde hair contrasted with her dark outfit.  

“That’s her,” the stuntman said. “The blonde girl in the black outfit.”

“She’ll be easy to find then,” I said in relief. “I was worried that I’d have to pick her out of the wad of people over there.” 

“Well, her stunt double is across the street dressed just like her,” he chuckled, pointing to another blonde in black leather across the street. 

“Shit! Glad you pointed the real one out then! That would’ve been embarrassing to go up to the wrong one.”

He laughed. “This is going to be great.”

Someone radioed to the stuntman that everything was ready.

“Copy,” he replied to the radio. He turned to me and muttered, “We’re gonna go in hot, so I hope you don’t mind a little speed.” 

The stuntman started the car and pushed a few buttons on a control switch mounted beneath the dash board to activate the light bar. A guy standing next to our car said that the light bar was not flashing blue lights, so the stuntman began pushing random buttons to no avail. I was already feeling each second of delay burning away my patience, so offered to help. I manage to find a switch and flip it, and saw the flicker of blue lights reflecting off the red brick buildings. 

“You got it now,” the man next to our car said. 

“Thanks! Here we go then!” the stuntman said, slamming his foot into the pedal.

We zipped across the street to the parking garage and lurched to a quick stop. The cameras were rolling. “It’s all you now, buddy,” the stuntman said.

I exited the car with a purpose, walking towards the entrance of the parking garage like I knew what I was doing. On the inside though, the lights, noise, and crowd of people in the background overwhelmed my senses. There was too much going on. I focused on the blonde girl dressed in black leather. The old gentlemen with Ambyr grinned as he saw my approach and stepped away, discreetly pointing at her for me. As I walked up to Ambyr, I heard some music come on, but it was faint and barely audible. Her face went from a blank expression to a look of horror as I started dancing in front of her. 

Someone thrust a chair behind her, but she didn’t notice and tried to run away. Somehow, some people managed to guide her into the chair where she sat and covered her face in embarrassment.

My police shirt came off first, revealing my chest and abs, and on them were the words: “Randall is God.” From the information I gathered earlier, Randall was Ambyr’s husband, and today was their anniversary. So Randall masterminded a plan for a stripper to surprise his wife. I never got to meet him, but his sense of humor infected everyone on the movie set, because I could hear them all laughing and cheering in the background.

Ambyr seemed appalled when I took off my shirt. Just before my pants came down, she muttered a quick protest, “Thanks, but you don’t have to take off your pants—OH GOD!” 

I turned and looked at her. My pants was around my ankles, and my butt encased in tight lycra briefs faced her. She was about to freak out. I felt bad for her. She curled up in the chair, her hands covering her face. 

“Happy anniversary from Randall,” I said, turning around and performing a bodybuilding pose known as a “lat spread,” where I spread my back muscles out so she could read the message on the back. It read, “Happy Anniversary” with a few hearts spread throughout my back. I hoped the gesture would put her at ease, because her discomfort was making me feel bad. 

From what I could tell, she laughed a bit at that and relaxed. 

I tried to dance the best I could, given my inability to hear the music. 

Ambyr raised her hands indicating for me to stop. “You’re a great dancer, but that’s enough.”

It was a good time to stop. In my mind, I felt like I botched the whole thing because I wanted to play out the whole charade of being a Metro Police officer a little longer, duping Ambyr into thinking we were filming a scene. I wanted to dance better and put on a more elegant show. My dance lasted probably a whole minute at the most. With that short duration, I felt like I was ripping the customer off. The crowd told me otherwise though. I turned at waved at the film crew, and they responded with cheers and applause. When I walked off towards the crowd, several people said I did a great job, and they did so with a smile or laughter on their face. Even two Mobile Police officers watched my performance and were grinning about it. Ambyr’s reaction must have been priceless.  

Since I was on the set, I wanted to stay around and watch. It’s not every day that I would get an opportunity to watch a multi-million dollar movie being made, but I was running very late for my next job. The driver of the van was ready to get me back to my car, so I could make my next appointment. I sometimes curse the excitement of my life. My schedule is so crammed that I could not even hang out on the set of a Hollywood movie. Talk about fuckin irony. 

My disappointments did not end there. I was unable to get any pictures with Ambyr since I left my phone with my real clothes in the dressing room of one of the trailers. Besides, as soon as I finished stripping, she retreated off the set in embarrassment. I couldn’t even apologize to her for making her feel uncomfortable. Even worse, I found out from one of the film crew that the Mobile Police Department arrested a man for stalking Ambyr on the previous night. No wonder she was so appalled by my approach! I felt horrible. 

Some of the crew rushed me back to the trailers where my car was parked. They did everything in their power to hurry for me. The fact that the whole crew went out of their way to accommodate my schedule was humbling. They deserve a commendation for it. 

When I got back to change, one of the crew members wanted a picture of me with the anniversary message. She took a picture for me as well:

Pic taken in dressing room of movie trailer

Even after eleven years of experience, being a male stripper always offers something new. I had to go somewhere completely out of my element, like a movie set where I’m gawking around in awe, and surprise an actress that is completely inside her element, causing her to gawk instead. I’m glad that I never got this gig early on in my career. I would not have been able to do it as a rookie. 

So now that I have stripped for an actress on a movie set, I wonder what other surprises await. I just hope that the whole scene of me stripping for her doesn’t appear on any bonus footage when the movie comes out on Blu-Ray or DVD. 

Stripping On A Movie Set - Part 1

My knowledge of celebrities is a joke. When someone names a random celebrity and asks me if I know him or her, I usually say, “I don’t know.” The response I get is, “How do you not know this person?” I just don’t. I am very ignorant of the world of pop-culture and Hollywood in general. I rarely even watch movies.
When my booking agent called me today for a last minute party, I almost turned it down. I already had a show booked for Orange Beach, along with another appointment later.

“It’s going to be on a movie set in Mobile,” he said.

“Oh, okay,” I said. I’ve been on a few sets of indie films before, so I assumed that this gig would be similar to those. Besides, the only people who make movies in Mobile, Alabama are usually local indie producers.
It was a tight fit in the schedule, but I decided to take the gig. It wasn’t too far from Orange Beach, and these type of gigs usually didn’t last long.

The customer was working on the set with the film crew when I called. I think he was one of the assistant producers, but I cannot remember exactly. He told me that I would be stripping for an actress named Ambyr Childers. I never heard of her, so I thought I was safe. Then again, my knowledge of actors is very limited.

“What does she look like?” I asked over the phone.

“You can’t miss her. Blonde, short, and very pretty. Her husband Randall is setting all this up. It’s their anniversary.”

“Ok, so just a quick performance then?” I asked, assuming from experience that her husband had a sense of humor and wanted to surprise her.

“Yeah, we might dress you up in a merc outfit from the movie so she won’t suspect anything.”

One thing that came to mind was that I would be stripping on a movie set, and there would be some people around. I usually wore thongs for my show, but this crowd would want something less revealing. I asked the customer what would be appropriate.

“Wear boxer briefs or something along those lines. A thong would definitely be too much. And another thing,” he added. “Can we put body paint on you beforehand? It’s going to be an anniversary message. Are you okay with this?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Oh, and one more request,” he said. “Can we film it?”

“Yeah, no problem!” I said without a care. People take pictures and film me all the time anyway. So what if an indie film has some extra footage of a male stripper? Boy, was I mistaken.

I arrived late, of course. The show from Orange Beach held me up for an extra thirty minutes. Moreover, it took me a lot longer to get to Mobile than I had thought. The assistant producer told me to pull into a parking lot on Jackson Street that had a lot of trailers. He’d meet me there after he was done filming a scene. I almost got lost, but I managed to find the parking lot.

Trailer with restrooms, changing rooms, etc.

The parking lot had all the trailers and tents for the movie crew. A large white tent sat in one corner. Several trailers and many cars filled the rest of the parking lot. There was a police car in the parking lot that had an emblem of a shield on the door with “Metro Police” below it. Seeing the police car made me suspect that this wasn’t just a regular indie film. A lot of money went into this project.

A young black girl with a two-way radio came to meet me and asked if I was the stripper. I told her that I was. She radioed to the filming crew, telling them that I had arrived. She said that I had to wait a bit because the crew were filming now, but I could help myself to some food or drink at the catering tent. I had to pee though, so I asked her about a bathroom. She escorted me to one of the trailers and told me to go inside. There was a men’s restroom and a women’s restroom. The men’s restroom was large enough to walk around in without feeling cramped, complete with a urinal, a stall, and a sink.

Inside the makeup trailer

The young girl with the radio came and got me once I exited the restroom and brought me to the makeup trailer where I would get the anniversary message painted on me. The makeup trailer was very extravagant, well lit with mirrors and an arsenal of makeup supplies that dwarfed every modeling set that I have ever been to.

This whole setup was starting to make me feel a little uneasy. It reminded me of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s biography where he was talking about being in the trailers of the film set. A lot of money definitely went into this production.

I entered the makeup trailer, and a young girl named Tiffanie introduced herself to me as the makeup artist. She was going to paint some messages on the front and back of my torso, so I took off my shirt and sat down.

While she was painting some words on my chest, a few women, members of the costume and wardrobe department, entered and asked for my clothing size. They debated whether I should be a Metro Police or a Merc, types of characters for the movie. I told them my size, and they decided on the Metro Police uniform for me and left the makeup trailer.

This whole event was taking more time than I had planned, and I was going to be late for my next appointment as a result. I passed the time talking to Tiffanie to get my mind off this matter.

“So, what’s this movie called?” I asked.

“It’s called Vice starring Bruce Willis,” Tiffanie began. She continued to elaborate on the plot, which was about people paying to use androids for their own twisted desires, and one female android becomes self-aware of this fact and doesn’t like it one bit.

When I heard her mention Bruce Willis, my first thought was, “What the hell have I signed up for?” I specifically took work out of town to keep a low profile. Now I was stripping on the set of a Bruce Willis movie and I gave the crew permission to film me! I should have asked a few more questions earlier.

One of the ladies from the costume department entered the makeup trailer with my Metro Police costume.
Accompanying her was the assistant producer. He handed me my payment and filled me in on what to do. I was to dress as a Metro Police officer, get into a Metro Police car, and pull into the set quickly like we were filming a take for the movie. I would get out of the car and approach the actress, and start stripping for her—all while the cameras film my performance.

This whole gig was exciting for me. It was something new. Yet I had my reasons to feel reluctant. I know some people would love to trade places with me, but I did not want footage of me stripping to get out on such a level. On top of it all, I was really running late. What have I gotten myself into?

...To be continued

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Thursday, April 3, 2014

The customer who hired me for this show was a man. Before you get any strange ideas, he was hiring me for his wife and her friends, who were having a ladies’ night out of town. He wanted to surprise them all by sending a male stripper to their condo, which was a high-rise located in Orange Beach, Alabama. He had a very easygoing relationship with his wife, so he wanted her and her friends to enjoy a male stripper. He paid for the entire bill and even gave his wife a hundred dollars in cash to tip me.

“You’ll have a good time with those women,” he said to me over the phone.

The ladies were in their mid-30s to early 40s and were very attractive. Since I didn’t even speak to the wife before arriving, except through some brief text messages, I had to completely improvise my entrance. My ruse was pretending to be with the hotel management responding to a neighbor complaining about the noise levels.

When I arrived outside their room, the door was slightly ajar, and the music was very loud. I rang the
doorbell. With the exception of the customer’s wife, everyone there actually thought I was the hotel management.

I was confused though. This was just a ladies’ night out of town. There was no bride or birthday girl, so I wasn’t quite sure who to start stripping for first. I looked to the wife for help. She pointed at a blonde with perky breast implants. So I began my striptease.

The ladies loved it and cheered. Some grabbed my butt. A few of them ran their hands on my abs, commenting that it’s been a long time since they felt a man with abs. I did not do anything beyond dance with the women here. No bodyshots or excessive grinding. Everyone was content with simple dancing.

One lady, I’ll refer to her as Mrs. J, commented about how much money I must make per party.

I told her that a male stripper’s income depends on the seasonal demand, plus how professional the stripper is. I elaborated by saying that in the region I worked, bachelorette parties picked up during the spring and summer seasons. During the winter, worked was almost obsolete, so demand was low.

Mrs. J took an interest in what I had to say, because she held a high position at a company that focused on sales. We discussed sales back and forth, and I outlined how the male stripping industry works.

“You know,” Mrs. J said, putting her hand on my arm, “I have a hard time finding someone who is confident, understands customer service, and knows how to sell a product. You seem to have all those traits. How would you like to work for me? The pay is really good.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

“Well, let me leave you my cell and e-mail, and get back to me and we can discuss more,” she said.

The women invited me to party with them all night, but I had my next gig in Mobile scheduled in 30 minutes, and I was already running late. Little did I know that it would be one of the most unique gigs of my stripping career.

To be continued...