My post Male Stripper Requirements has generated more questions than satisfied answers. These questions revolve around more "physical" requirements of male strippers. Apparently, there are a lot of you guys out there who want to do this job and wonder whether you have what it takes to become a male stripper. Well, I'm not a hiring agent, so I can't get you hired (so stop sending me pictures!). However, I'm happy to answer most questions though.
First off, most questions ask what the appropriate penis size is. Before I go into detail about this, you guys need to understand one thing: If you're insecure about penis size, then you don't need to be a male stripper. If you have any insecurities, then the chances are that a few women will pick up on it and call you out. Regardless of whether you have a big dick or little dick, you shouldn't make an issue out of it. A friend of mine always tells girls that he has a little dick. Several girls have asked to see it, and some even start flirting with him afterward. Why? Because he's secure about himself. And that's the attitude that a male stripper needs.
Another common question inquired about how much body fat or muscularity is ideal. This answer varies depending on the audience. The closer you are to a six-pack, the better. As long as you have a nice aesthetic muscular shape, then you are good to go. You should be larger than the average girl (notice that I said average, not obese), but the Incredible Hulk physique may overdo it with a lot of women. For those of you who have a little extra body fat, then you okay as long as you have an attractive facial features and personality.
Body hair is another issue that came up. I know that some women like body hair, but those that do won't mind too much if you shave. No women has ever complained about me, and I shave almost everything. I'll keep some hair around my crotch region, but the rest of the body hair has got to go. I am so clean-shaven that some women have licked my ass crack at parties. Do you think they would have done that if I had a hairy ass? Hell no. Not many people like to lick hair. Stay on the safe side: shave.
Piercings and tattoos cover the rest of the questions I receive. Like body hair, some girls like piercings and tattoos. Yet, some girls dislike or even hate them. It's better to just play it safe and avoid both if possible. I don't have any, nor do I intend to get them. Even the girls who love piercings and tattoos don't complain about me not having a tattoo or a piercing. Self expression is nice and all, but I suggest wearing a T-shirt or buying a bumper sticker instead. At least you can take those off easily without worrying about holes or scars.
To conclude, physical features play an important role for male strippers, but many of you guys missed my point completely about personality. Personality is where most men fail regarding male stripper requirements. Insecurity, narcissism, and irresponsibility are some of the biggest flaws that most applicants or beginning male strippers have.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Stripper's Log: 4/30/11
Around March of last year, I stripped at a bachelorette party that took place in a small, obscure town far away from where I live. However, I didn't write much about this party, because nothing out of the ordinary happened.
I documented this bachelorette party in this post: Highlights From Recent Parties. I wrote, "several girls conspired to rip my thong off. One of them succeeded. Several hands fondled me." That was the only highlight of this party. Other than that, here is the back story: A girl named Ashley hired me to show up as a cop, strip for her bachelorette friend, and make my rounds with the girls. As I mentioned before, this party wasn't that much out of the ordinary.
Fast forward to over a year later, I received a booking for a party in a small, obscure town, also far away. At first, this particular party wanted a cop costume, but they changed their minds, saying that they had a male stripper who was a cop last year. They told me to wear whatever I wanted instead and provided m with the rest of information about the party: the bachelorette's name was Ashley; Ashley hired a male stripper for last year's party, and the other girls wanted to repay her; a female friend was going to strip for Ashley before me as a joke. I began to wonder if this was the same party that I stripped for a year previous, but I have done so many that my memory was hazy. However, I usually remember locations and this party took place in a different location.
As soon as I showed up to collect payment from the girl who booked me, she instantly recognized me. "Oh my God, you stripped for us last year!" she said.
The girl was wearing a denim skirt, a yellow halter top, and cowboy boots. I didn't remember her at all. Then again, I forget most faces from the collage of parties. The girl didn't care. She paid me and said, "Ashley is going to be excited--she was the one who hired you last year!"
I couldn't recall Ashley's face either. I followed the girl in cowboy boots into the house to an interesting scene that most guys would pay money to see. Inside, many girls stood on the outskirts of a dark living room facing toward the center where two chairs were. Two girls were on these two chairs. A girl with curly brown hair sat blindfolded and laughing in one chair, while a redheaded girl wearing only bra, panties, and fishnet thigh-high stockings stood atop the other chair gyrating her body to the beat of the music. The redhead hopped off to place her breasts into Ashley's face.
"Why does the stripper have boobs?" the blindfolded girl said, whom I assumed was Ashley. Ashley didn't have time talk much after that, because the redhead reached down toward her crotch and grabbed an elongated purple object, which I just realized was a strap-on dildo, and thrust it into Ashley's mouth.
The girl in cowboy boots led me to a corner directly behind Ashley and told me to start stripping during the next song. So I contented myself to watching Ashley suck the redhead's strap-on. The song ended and the redhead reached around Ashley's head and untied the blindfold. Ashley screamed in surprise and recognition. Apparently, the redhead was her friend. Ashley screamed again as soon as I left my corner and stood in front of her. It was at that moment I remembered her.
It is strange how something forgotten can surface so abundant and clear from an image. She was the attractive brunette who hired me last year. She also fed me and invited me out with her friends after I finished stripping. "Did you miss me?" I asked her.
"YES!" she said, cupping her smile with her hands.
I performed my regular routine, and Ashley joined in with enthusiasm.
After a few minutes though, the redhead intervened. First, she approached me with the strap-on pointed at me like it was giving me a salute. "Let's double-team her," she said. That was fine with me. So we double-teamed Ashley.
What the redhead asked me next tested my boundaries. And let me say this: Girls tried to lick my ass, tear my thong off, and suck my cock at these parties, so my boundaries are fairly hard for women to go beyond. However, the redhead did. "Give me head," she said, holding her strap-on pointed towards me.
I shook my head. She insisted, but the other girls pulled her away and told her to let me work. I grinded against the bachelorette, then made my way toward the next couple of girls in the living room. Several girls ran outside, but enough stayed behind for me to harass. It wasn't long though, before I came upon the redhead again.
She was aggressive... and different.
First of all, I don't usually strip for girls who are wearing underwear and fishnet stockings. Second, this girl had money in her underwear from her stripping performance with Ashley. Third, this girl was horny. I realized that by the way she was pulling me toward her and wrapping her legs tightly around my hips.
I pulled some dollars out of her bra that Ashley had given her, and dragged it along her chest, before bringing it to her face. She grabbed the back of my head pulled me toward her, biting the dollar. Had I stayed so close to her for a moment longer, I felt that she would've attempted to make out with me. I pulled away, leaving the dollar in her mouth, and thrust the front of my thong toward her face. "Put in there," I said.
She pulled my thong open, looking down at my cock for a few seconds. As she dropped the dollar bill into my thong, she traced her tongue around my pubic region. I repeated this routine with the redhead two more times, while the redhead became more daring each time. I heard the girls in the darkened living room muttering amongst themselves, especially about the neglected bachelorette, and I suddenly began to feel self-conscious. I pulled away from the redhead, stood up, and focused my attention back onto Ashley, the bachelorette.
The rest of the routine went by without incident (or anything unusual). When I finished, the girls turned on the lights and began to clean up. They invited me to stay, but I declined. "Maybe we'll see you next year," one girl said. I laughed and told everyone bye, then went to leave from the front porch.
The redhead followed me to the front porch alone and asked if I would stay. She was very close and the demanding look in her blue eyes told me that she wanted to rape me right then and there. But close-up, I could see the lines of age that lined her face. She looked much better in the darkened living room. Again, I politely declined.
The redhead's brow furrowed and her lip twisted downward. "What the fuck? Don't tell me that pussy-ass shit. You need to stay! Don't come here and strip for forty-five minutes and just leave." The redhead stood in my way to block the exit. Her feet were planted and the menacing stare that she gave me told me that she wasn't going to move without a confrontation. This girl seemed like the type of girl who had a lot of run-ins with the police regarding domestic violence.
"Okay, you're right," I said, smiling and putting my arm around her. "I'll stay... Just for you though."
The furrows in her face eased up and she smiled. It was as if the thunderstorm suddenly cleared and the sun came out. "Get something to drink and hang out," she said. "You don't have to go home tonight."
I decided to take her advice and get a drink. I went back inside and asked the girls for a drink. They offered me beer, but I said that water was fine. One girl protested my response, but another girl said that I had to drive. After a few moments, someone handed me a cup of ice water. I didn't see the redhead around and figured that she was still on the front porch, so I thanked everyone for a good time and headed toward the back door. I heard a chorus of byes as I left.
As I got into my car, I silently patted myself on the back for deceiving the redhead. From this moment on, I'll definitely remember that small, obscure town and ensure that I avoid it. The money is not worth the travel, nor is it worth getting corralled into some unwanted sex.
I documented this bachelorette party in this post: Highlights From Recent Parties. I wrote, "several girls conspired to rip my thong off. One of them succeeded. Several hands fondled me." That was the only highlight of this party. Other than that, here is the back story: A girl named Ashley hired me to show up as a cop, strip for her bachelorette friend, and make my rounds with the girls. As I mentioned before, this party wasn't that much out of the ordinary.
Fast forward to over a year later, I received a booking for a party in a small, obscure town, also far away. At first, this particular party wanted a cop costume, but they changed their minds, saying that they had a male stripper who was a cop last year. They told me to wear whatever I wanted instead and provided m with the rest of information about the party: the bachelorette's name was Ashley; Ashley hired a male stripper for last year's party, and the other girls wanted to repay her; a female friend was going to strip for Ashley before me as a joke. I began to wonder if this was the same party that I stripped for a year previous, but I have done so many that my memory was hazy. However, I usually remember locations and this party took place in a different location.
As soon as I showed up to collect payment from the girl who booked me, she instantly recognized me. "Oh my God, you stripped for us last year!" she said.
The girl was wearing a denim skirt, a yellow halter top, and cowboy boots. I didn't remember her at all. Then again, I forget most faces from the collage of parties. The girl didn't care. She paid me and said, "Ashley is going to be excited--she was the one who hired you last year!"
I couldn't recall Ashley's face either. I followed the girl in cowboy boots into the house to an interesting scene that most guys would pay money to see. Inside, many girls stood on the outskirts of a dark living room facing toward the center where two chairs were. Two girls were on these two chairs. A girl with curly brown hair sat blindfolded and laughing in one chair, while a redheaded girl wearing only bra, panties, and fishnet thigh-high stockings stood atop the other chair gyrating her body to the beat of the music. The redhead hopped off to place her breasts into Ashley's face.
"Why does the stripper have boobs?" the blindfolded girl said, whom I assumed was Ashley. Ashley didn't have time talk much after that, because the redhead reached down toward her crotch and grabbed an elongated purple object, which I just realized was a strap-on dildo, and thrust it into Ashley's mouth.
The girl in cowboy boots led me to a corner directly behind Ashley and told me to start stripping during the next song. So I contented myself to watching Ashley suck the redhead's strap-on. The song ended and the redhead reached around Ashley's head and untied the blindfold. Ashley screamed in surprise and recognition. Apparently, the redhead was her friend. Ashley screamed again as soon as I left my corner and stood in front of her. It was at that moment I remembered her.
It is strange how something forgotten can surface so abundant and clear from an image. She was the attractive brunette who hired me last year. She also fed me and invited me out with her friends after I finished stripping. "Did you miss me?" I asked her.
"YES!" she said, cupping her smile with her hands.
I performed my regular routine, and Ashley joined in with enthusiasm.
After a few minutes though, the redhead intervened. First, she approached me with the strap-on pointed at me like it was giving me a salute. "Let's double-team her," she said. That was fine with me. So we double-teamed Ashley.
What the redhead asked me next tested my boundaries. And let me say this: Girls tried to lick my ass, tear my thong off, and suck my cock at these parties, so my boundaries are fairly hard for women to go beyond. However, the redhead did. "Give me head," she said, holding her strap-on pointed towards me.
I shook my head. She insisted, but the other girls pulled her away and told her to let me work. I grinded against the bachelorette, then made my way toward the next couple of girls in the living room. Several girls ran outside, but enough stayed behind for me to harass. It wasn't long though, before I came upon the redhead again.
She was aggressive... and different.
First of all, I don't usually strip for girls who are wearing underwear and fishnet stockings. Second, this girl had money in her underwear from her stripping performance with Ashley. Third, this girl was horny. I realized that by the way she was pulling me toward her and wrapping her legs tightly around my hips.
I pulled some dollars out of her bra that Ashley had given her, and dragged it along her chest, before bringing it to her face. She grabbed the back of my head pulled me toward her, biting the dollar. Had I stayed so close to her for a moment longer, I felt that she would've attempted to make out with me. I pulled away, leaving the dollar in her mouth, and thrust the front of my thong toward her face. "Put in there," I said.
She pulled my thong open, looking down at my cock for a few seconds. As she dropped the dollar bill into my thong, she traced her tongue around my pubic region. I repeated this routine with the redhead two more times, while the redhead became more daring each time. I heard the girls in the darkened living room muttering amongst themselves, especially about the neglected bachelorette, and I suddenly began to feel self-conscious. I pulled away from the redhead, stood up, and focused my attention back onto Ashley, the bachelorette.
The rest of the routine went by without incident (or anything unusual). When I finished, the girls turned on the lights and began to clean up. They invited me to stay, but I declined. "Maybe we'll see you next year," one girl said. I laughed and told everyone bye, then went to leave from the front porch.
The redhead followed me to the front porch alone and asked if I would stay. She was very close and the demanding look in her blue eyes told me that she wanted to rape me right then and there. But close-up, I could see the lines of age that lined her face. She looked much better in the darkened living room. Again, I politely declined.
The redhead's brow furrowed and her lip twisted downward. "What the fuck? Don't tell me that pussy-ass shit. You need to stay! Don't come here and strip for forty-five minutes and just leave." The redhead stood in my way to block the exit. Her feet were planted and the menacing stare that she gave me told me that she wasn't going to move without a confrontation. This girl seemed like the type of girl who had a lot of run-ins with the police regarding domestic violence.
"Okay, you're right," I said, smiling and putting my arm around her. "I'll stay... Just for you though."
The furrows in her face eased up and she smiled. It was as if the thunderstorm suddenly cleared and the sun came out. "Get something to drink and hang out," she said. "You don't have to go home tonight."
I decided to take her advice and get a drink. I went back inside and asked the girls for a drink. They offered me beer, but I said that water was fine. One girl protested my response, but another girl said that I had to drive. After a few moments, someone handed me a cup of ice water. I didn't see the redhead around and figured that she was still on the front porch, so I thanked everyone for a good time and headed toward the back door. I heard a chorus of byes as I left.
As I got into my car, I silently patted myself on the back for deceiving the redhead. From this moment on, I'll definitely remember that small, obscure town and ensure that I avoid it. The money is not worth the travel, nor is it worth getting corralled into some unwanted sex.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Stripper's Log: 4/28/11
Me with a girl from last night.
My agent called me yesterday to do a last-minute party in Alabama last night. It was an ordinary bachelorette party with about eight girls.
Several unique things occurred though. First, the girls were cautious and suspicious that I was going to take their money and run. When I go to parties, my agents stress that I always collect the money before performing. If I don't do this, then that allows the possibility of missing out on pay. The girls last night had never booked a stripper before, so they didn't know what to expect, so I don't blame them for thinking that a complete stranger would take their money. Still though, wouldn't even the most crooked of men take delight in stripping for a room full of girls?
Next, the girls indulged themselves with jello shots and whipped cream, licking it off my body. I also licked whipped cream from several belly-buttons, thighs, and breasts. In the picture above, I licked a lot of whipped cream from between that blonde's breast (they were implants and I must say that they felt very nice!). I mention jello shots and whipped cream because I usually pull out dollars from girls. This party felt comfortable enough to start with whipped cream. Not every party does this.
Last, I shoved my cock into a few faces. While this is common, one girl opened her mouth to allow the "bulge" of my thong to enter. I guess that's fairly common too...
Overall, the party was fun. The pay was a little on the low end. I can't complain though, because I'd rather take less pay and have fun, rather than go to a horrible party for more money. I have another show booked for tomorrow, so I'll write about that next.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Stripper's Log: Saturday, April 9th, 2011
I had to strip at a birthday party that took place at a bar last weekend. When my agent told me that the location was a bar, I became weary because I hate stripping at bars. Bars have mixed crowds that don't even belong to the party, and sometimes these crowds interfere with my work. My concerns grew when I called the bar owner and discovered that it was a "redneck" type of bar. I had several unpleasant encounters in redneck bars in the past, some that almost resulted in fights or getting ambushed by multiple angry and jealous men. These guys usually don't take kindly to strangers coming in and stripping in front of their ladies.
When I contacted the bar owner before arrival, she assured me that she and her employees would throw out anyone acting "out of line." She also told me that I was stripping outside on the deck, whereas most of the of the patrons would be inside. This news gave me a little relief.
Next, I contacted the guy who hired me. That's right, it was a guy. Sometimes, not very often, men hire me for women. I arrived at the bar and met the customer who hired me. His name was Jim and he looked like a typical Southern, blue-collared "good ole' boy." He was tall, stout, and said he bounced at many bars. And he was gay. He told me, even though I knew from the rainbow bracelet he wore. He paid me and showed me to the deck. It was a wooden deck, with chairs, tables, and a lot of trees and flowers nearby. A row of high hedges and a wooden privacy fence surrounded the area around the deck so no one in the parking lot could see into the enclosure. The bar owner draped the back door with a curtain so no one inside could see out. These precautions were good, but nothing would stop a curious customer from coming outside if they wanted to.
Soon, the party members trickled out toward the deck from inside. It was a typical performance. I stripped, received money, and danced some more. There was nothing worth mentioning.
Unfortunately, some smokers wandered outside onto the deck and saw the tail-end of my performance. They were two guys and three girls---very country and very drunk. After I finished up my performance, the whole party went inside while I was getting dressed. One of the smokers, your typical redneck guy, came up to me with a ten-dollar bill, insisting that I perform a show for the three girls who were with him. He wanted me to "slap them in the face" with my cock. He and his drunken friend sat them into chairs on the deck. One of the girls got up and ran inside, leaving only two girls left. Usually, I wouldn't strip for another party if I'm already working one, but everyone from the party except Jim went inside the bar. Jim shrugged and said, "That's all you, man." I looked up at the drunken guy and said that I would do a short dance for them, but nothing more. He nodded and handed one of the girls the ten-dollar bill.
It wasn't a dance really. I approached the girls. They stared at my package. I turned around, and showed them my ass. They caressed my ass and my thighs. I turned back around and one of the girls placed the bill into the front of my thong. The girls complimented me in various ways and touched me a bit more. I thanked them and returned to the original party to collect my clothes.
As I slipped into my clothes, I overheard the two females talking with the rest of the smokers, praising me. The guy who paid me didn't take this news very well, because the next thing he did was pull off his shirt and puff out his chest. "He ain't got shit on me," he yelled. He looked over at me and glared, his jaw clenched shut. His two female friends said nothing. His other friend, a tall man wearing a camo shirt, gave me an icy stare. Jim shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Sounds like someone is insecure," he said.
"I wonder why he even bothered paying me when he's gonna get pissed off about it," I said.
It was time to go. The last thing I wanted was a bar fight. Jim offered to walk me to the car. "I'll whoop their ass if they try anything. I got yer back, man."
The two men were blocking the exit, but they moved aside when Jim and I approached. One of the girls said "bye" to me, which caused the shirtless guy to give me a murderous look. I turned and widened my stance, waiting for an attack. However, Jim cut in and warned him that he needed to put his shirt back on unless he wanted to get "kicked out." I made it to my car without a fight.
Once we were at my car, Jim pulled out his wallet and gave me an extra fifty dollars. "I promised yer agent that I'd give you fifty bucks for drivin' out here in the boonies," he said.
I thanked Jim for the money and walking me to my car.
"No problem, man," he said. "I figured those guys would give ya shit. I get shit from guys like that fer bein' gay, but the thing about us gay rednecks is that we'll whoop their ass."
I laughed. Jim said that I did a good job and he would call me for the next time one of his girlfriends needed a stripper. "Definitely won't be at a bar," he said, watching a drunk guy pissing on a pickup truck.
Overall, the bar experience this last weekend wasn't so bad, but my opinion remains the same: I hate stripping at bars. Private parties are much more relaxed and safe.
When I contacted the bar owner before arrival, she assured me that she and her employees would throw out anyone acting "out of line." She also told me that I was stripping outside on the deck, whereas most of the of the patrons would be inside. This news gave me a little relief.
Next, I contacted the guy who hired me. That's right, it was a guy. Sometimes, not very often, men hire me for women. I arrived at the bar and met the customer who hired me. His name was Jim and he looked like a typical Southern, blue-collared "good ole' boy." He was tall, stout, and said he bounced at many bars. And he was gay. He told me, even though I knew from the rainbow bracelet he wore. He paid me and showed me to the deck. It was a wooden deck, with chairs, tables, and a lot of trees and flowers nearby. A row of high hedges and a wooden privacy fence surrounded the area around the deck so no one in the parking lot could see into the enclosure. The bar owner draped the back door with a curtain so no one inside could see out. These precautions were good, but nothing would stop a curious customer from coming outside if they wanted to.
Soon, the party members trickled out toward the deck from inside. It was a typical performance. I stripped, received money, and danced some more. There was nothing worth mentioning.
Unfortunately, some smokers wandered outside onto the deck and saw the tail-end of my performance. They were two guys and three girls---very country and very drunk. After I finished up my performance, the whole party went inside while I was getting dressed. One of the smokers, your typical redneck guy, came up to me with a ten-dollar bill, insisting that I perform a show for the three girls who were with him. He wanted me to "slap them in the face" with my cock. He and his drunken friend sat them into chairs on the deck. One of the girls got up and ran inside, leaving only two girls left. Usually, I wouldn't strip for another party if I'm already working one, but everyone from the party except Jim went inside the bar. Jim shrugged and said, "That's all you, man." I looked up at the drunken guy and said that I would do a short dance for them, but nothing more. He nodded and handed one of the girls the ten-dollar bill.
It wasn't a dance really. I approached the girls. They stared at my package. I turned around, and showed them my ass. They caressed my ass and my thighs. I turned back around and one of the girls placed the bill into the front of my thong. The girls complimented me in various ways and touched me a bit more. I thanked them and returned to the original party to collect my clothes.
As I slipped into my clothes, I overheard the two females talking with the rest of the smokers, praising me. The guy who paid me didn't take this news very well, because the next thing he did was pull off his shirt and puff out his chest. "He ain't got shit on me," he yelled. He looked over at me and glared, his jaw clenched shut. His two female friends said nothing. His other friend, a tall man wearing a camo shirt, gave me an icy stare. Jim shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Sounds like someone is insecure," he said.
"I wonder why he even bothered paying me when he's gonna get pissed off about it," I said.
It was time to go. The last thing I wanted was a bar fight. Jim offered to walk me to the car. "I'll whoop their ass if they try anything. I got yer back, man."
The two men were blocking the exit, but they moved aside when Jim and I approached. One of the girls said "bye" to me, which caused the shirtless guy to give me a murderous look. I turned and widened my stance, waiting for an attack. However, Jim cut in and warned him that he needed to put his shirt back on unless he wanted to get "kicked out." I made it to my car without a fight.
Once we were at my car, Jim pulled out his wallet and gave me an extra fifty dollars. "I promised yer agent that I'd give you fifty bucks for drivin' out here in the boonies," he said.
I thanked Jim for the money and walking me to my car.
"No problem, man," he said. "I figured those guys would give ya shit. I get shit from guys like that fer bein' gay, but the thing about us gay rednecks is that we'll whoop their ass."
I laughed. Jim said that I did a good job and he would call me for the next time one of his girlfriends needed a stripper. "Definitely won't be at a bar," he said, watching a drunk guy pissing on a pickup truck.
Overall, the bar experience this last weekend wasn't so bad, but my opinion remains the same: I hate stripping at bars. Private parties are much more relaxed and safe.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Male Stripper Requirements
Many people ask me how to get into male stripping. The process is rather easy, but the requirements are not.
In order to get into male stripping, you will first need an agent to book shows for you. It's possible to act as your own agent, but unless you're a veteran at networking and advertising for a large customer base, you're not going to get very far. The best way to reach agents is to do an online search for those companies who book strippers. You can also check around your local sex/lingerie stores since they sometimes offer strippers for private parties as well. I have done both with mixed success in each.
Once you contact an agent or business, they will ask you if have the following:
- Previous stripping experience
- Your own vehicle
- Cell phone
- GPS or good map-reading and navigation skills
- costumes
- Music
- Recent professional pictures
Previous stripping experience helps out a lot. Because of my extensive experience, I can easily get a job anywhere. However, since most of you are interested in how to get into stripping in the first place, you probably don't have any experience. So the agent will ask you for professional pictures which includes headshots and body shots. If the agent deems you good-looking enough, then you can go on to the next step.
The agent may ask you several questions to get a clue about your personality. Some people just don't have the personality for this job. If you have bad interpersonal skills or think that you're the hottest son-of-a-bitch ever born, then this job isn't for you. Most complaints that agents receive about male strippers come from personality-related problems than anything else. Professionalism is a huge key to success with this job.
You will also need costumes, or be in the process of getting costumes because many parties request costumes. If you don't have any costumes, then it's still possible to get some work. Yet if any girls request a cop costume and you don't have one, then another male stripper who owns the required costume will get the gig (and the money).
The next process involves "training." Most agents will have you tag along with a veteran male stripper to learn the ropes. This is what I had to when I first started. Basically, you go with another male stripper to one of his gigs, watch him perform in front of the ladies, then join in and perform as well. If you don't freeze up and back down, then you'll be eligible to work on your own.
Once you start working on your own, your agent will still evaluate you. After your first few performances, your agent will contact the customer who booked the party and asked how your performance was. If the customers say that you were horrible, then you're not going to get anymore work. If the customers love you, then you have just put your foot in the door.
Your personality and interactions with the women at these parties determine your success. Punctuality, politeness, modesty and consideration are key to earning extra money and keeping your job. If you're late, rude, obnoxious, and act like you're the biggest stud in town, then chances are that the women will dislike you enough to complain, and complaining gets your fired.
In my eight years of working this job on and off, I have never received any complaints on my performance. Several women had called my agent and praised me. Also, building a good rapport with your agent will help you get more work as well. Overall, a lot of men want to become male strippers for the attention, the money, and the easy sex, but this is not a job for everyone. And like every job, it has its negative sides. Still, this is one of the most enjoyable and enlightening jobs that I had ever experienced, and I have no regrets with it.
In order to get into male stripping, you will first need an agent to book shows for you. It's possible to act as your own agent, but unless you're a veteran at networking and advertising for a large customer base, you're not going to get very far. The best way to reach agents is to do an online search for those companies who book strippers. You can also check around your local sex/lingerie stores since they sometimes offer strippers for private parties as well. I have done both with mixed success in each.
Once you contact an agent or business, they will ask you if have the following:
- Previous stripping experience
- Your own vehicle
- Cell phone
- GPS or good map-reading and navigation skills
- costumes
- Music
- Recent professional pictures
Previous stripping experience helps out a lot. Because of my extensive experience, I can easily get a job anywhere. However, since most of you are interested in how to get into stripping in the first place, you probably don't have any experience. So the agent will ask you for professional pictures which includes headshots and body shots. If the agent deems you good-looking enough, then you can go on to the next step.
The agent may ask you several questions to get a clue about your personality. Some people just don't have the personality for this job. If you have bad interpersonal skills or think that you're the hottest son-of-a-bitch ever born, then this job isn't for you. Most complaints that agents receive about male strippers come from personality-related problems than anything else. Professionalism is a huge key to success with this job.
You will also need costumes, or be in the process of getting costumes because many parties request costumes. If you don't have any costumes, then it's still possible to get some work. Yet if any girls request a cop costume and you don't have one, then another male stripper who owns the required costume will get the gig (and the money).
The next process involves "training." Most agents will have you tag along with a veteran male stripper to learn the ropes. This is what I had to when I first started. Basically, you go with another male stripper to one of his gigs, watch him perform in front of the ladies, then join in and perform as well. If you don't freeze up and back down, then you'll be eligible to work on your own.
Once you start working on your own, your agent will still evaluate you. After your first few performances, your agent will contact the customer who booked the party and asked how your performance was. If the customers say that you were horrible, then you're not going to get anymore work. If the customers love you, then you have just put your foot in the door.
Your personality and interactions with the women at these parties determine your success. Punctuality, politeness, modesty and consideration are key to earning extra money and keeping your job. If you're late, rude, obnoxious, and act like you're the biggest stud in town, then chances are that the women will dislike you enough to complain, and complaining gets your fired.
In my eight years of working this job on and off, I have never received any complaints on my performance. Several women had called my agent and praised me. Also, building a good rapport with your agent will help you get more work as well. Overall, a lot of men want to become male strippers for the attention, the money, and the easy sex, but this is not a job for everyone. And like every job, it has its negative sides. Still, this is one of the most enjoyable and enlightening jobs that I had ever experienced, and I have no regrets with it.
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