Party Log: May 2, 2014

May 2, 2014

Blue Mountain Beach

I never stripped at Blue Mountain Beach until a week ago. Now I returned for the second time within a week. It was a typical bachelorette party staying at a beach condo, but with a spectacular view. The girls were partying on the outside deck that was facing the white sandy beach and the Gulf of Mexico. The sun had just set and the sky was fading into a dusky and pinkish red… And I ignored most of this view because I was too busy stripping down and dancing.

Two condos down, there was a wedding party full of families, friends, old people, and young. They must have spent a lot of money renting that condo to enjoy a wedding party with the lulling sound of crashing waves and the serene scenery. They did not expect a clear view of my ass in a thong, nor the sounds of women hooting and hollering from my antics. I’d look over at their deck and see a few people stop and gawk at us, their faces unreadable in shadowy silhouettes.

There were also people who walked along the beach. They, too, stopped and stared at the bachelorette party and male stripper combination in action. It was getting dark and I couldn’t see them very well, but I hope those people weren’t families out with their kids.

With the exception of the bachelorette party, everyone got a free show that day whether they wanted one or not.

Party Log: May 1, 2014

Thursday – May 1, 2014

My agent called me at the last minute to do a bachelorette party. The customer requested a black guy, but the black guy couldn’t do it because “he’s a fuckin moron” as my agent put it.

When I called the customer, and she discovered that I was not the original dancer, she became upset and didn’t even want to talk to me. Apparently I was the third dancer she talked to, and she was getting tired of the bait and switch, which was completely understandable. I got off the phone with her and thought that she was going to cancel, so I sent a message to my agent and figured that this show was a no-go.

A few hours later, my agent called me and said that the customer really wanted a stripper, and told her that I would put on a good show. He said that she seemed apologetic about being rude to me earlier, but wanted to have me. I must admit, I felt a little skeptical at this point because I expected her to be like a fire-breathing dragon looking for a reason to roast my performance. Nevertheless, I took the job with the intention of giving it 100%.  

The location of the party would be at a restaurant and bar along the beach. It was a popular place, and Claire and I even met a nice girl there back in 2012, whom we later took home. This time around, I would be stripping at the place instead of doing dinner and a threesome. The establishment had a large open area with a stage for live bands, a pool table, and plenty of tables and chairs. The bachelorette party changed their plans to arrive after midnight, and they told the bartender and staff about me.

Lucky for me, the bar was mostly empty after midnight. There were two guys shooting pool, and the rest of the occupants consisted of four females. Usually, I don’t like performing at public venues, especially with men in attendance. For some reason, men like to start trouble with male strippers, usually fights with a group of friends behind them for backup. I hoped that the two guys would leave, but they continued one game after another. They didn’t seem like trouble, but one can never tell. By the time the bachelorette party arrived, they were still there in process of starting a new round.

The party was a group of young and attractive black girls, who were from all over the United States. They traveled here for the sole purpose of their friend’s bachelorette party. The girl who set up the party was the sole white girl out of the bunch. She came up to me and guessed that I was the stripper immediately. We went around the corner outside where she paid me and talked about the routine. I told her that I would first give the guys at the pool table a courtesy warning about a male stripper being there. At least they’d have a chance to leave if they didn’t like it. The customer said that her friend would setup the music with the bartender in the meantime. The plans were simple, and we went back inside to initiate them.

First, I approached both men and told them that a male stripper was about to perform for the bachelorette party. They said that they were cool with it and didn’t mind. No problem. Just as I breathed a sigh of relief, half a dozen male rednecks walked into the bar, seeming as boisterous as a bunch of hogs romping around in mud together. They were louder than the bachelorette party and they shuffled chairs out of their way as the waded towards the bartender in an aggressive manner. After ordering their drinks and talking to the bartender, they shuffled out of the bar in the hurry to go outside as if something better awaited them there.

I went to the bartender and asked him if it was okay to perform. Sometimes the customers tell me that they cleared things with the establishment, but I’ve been kicked out a time or two to know that it’s always better to double check. The bartender confirmed that I could perform. He even went through the trouble of warning the rednecks about me.

“They got excited at first because they heard the word ‘stripper,’” he said. “When I repeated ‘male stripper’ to them, they got their drinks and bolted for the door.”

One the girls at the party got permission to DJ, so she connected her phone to the P.A. She had a good selection of songs on her phone and started the music. She also had a microphone, announcing that it was the bride’s bachelorette and birthday party. I had to have that mic, so I went up on stage and asked her for it.

When performing, the microphone gives a lot of power. As soon as I spoke into it, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at me. I asked the bride to come on stage. She emerged wearing a tight white dress and a tiara. A wad of folded dollar bills protruded from the top of her dress. “I heard that it was her birthday and bachelorette party, so I have a little surprise for her,” I said. Then I spoke to the bride, “Do you know what that is?”

The bride shook her head.

“Here,” I said into the mic, leading her to a chair. “Sit down and I’ll give it to you!”

The music blared over the speakers, and I started dancing in front of her. Her group of friends cheered. The ladies at the bar who were not part of the bachelorette party cheered. The two guys stopped playing pool to stare.

“If you want me to show her the surprise, then scream for me!” I shouted.

The crowd cheered in unison. I placed my hands on my hips, looked down at the floor, and shook my head, making an exaggerating show of how disappointed I was.

“That didn’t sound convincing. Let’s try that again. Scream for me!” I shouted.

The crowd’s roaring answer was more than satisfying. Even one of the guys playing pool added a loud whistle for audible effect.

Then I started dancing and unbuttoning my shirt. The bride gasped in delight and hollered. She pulled out a wad of dollar bills from her dress and began stuffing them in my pants. I jumped into a pushup position with my hands on the sides of her chair, and with each downward motion, I would retrieve the remaining dollar bills from the cleavage of her dress. I jumped back up and resumed dancing, shaking out of my pants, and exposing my black pleather thong to the crowd, who reacted with roaring approval (except the pool players).

I don’t remember much of the details of my dance, but I was on fire tonight. In fact, this was probably one of my top dance performances of the past few years. The girl who did the music playlist chose an amazing array of songs to dance to. I improvised my moves, but they flowed together like well-practiced choreography. I added a few bicep poses for comedic value. Some of the women came to me afterwards and commended my performance, even the ones who weren’t part of the bachelorette party. Perhaps it was the combination of the stage, the DJ’s choice of music, or the large crowd that riled me into action. I just know that I couldn’t have done better.

I drifted around from girl to girl until I danced with the entire bachelorette party, which numbered at least a dozen. I spoke into the microphone to announce a game of body shots with the bride. I walked the audience through the whole process, explaining that the bride needed to get on her knees and place her mouth on my abs while I poured a drink down my chest. She was not allowed to let any liquid escape. Of course, she did not succeed very well, but everyone laughed and cheered while watching it.

Last call (2:00am) caught everyone by surprise. I wrapped up the night with group photos. One of the guys playing pool and his girlfriend assisted by taking pictures. The bartender joked about me getting more tip money than him.

Before parting ways, the customer who gave me a hard time over the phone at first approached me for a photo with her. I posed with her by kissing her on the cheek for the camera. She gave me some extra money and said, “Thank you, Dion. I’m glad that the other dancers didn’t work out and we got you instead.”

I went in expecting a bad time. I came out feeling the euphoria of putting on a great performance. One can never truly tell how a performance will go.

A Sweet Job Offer

I work for a few agencies. One of them has an opening for a male stripper position to cover the areas near me. The company asked me to search around for a potential employee because it's very difficult for them to find any good talent They hooked me up with a lot of work, so why not return the favor? Plus, they offered to pay me a referral fee for doing so.

Some people may think that I'm setting up potential competition to replace me, but that was not the case. The agency would give me first dibs on all shows. I am reliable and established. The new guy would get the shows that I turned down or couldn't do. No problem for me, and the agency and the new male stripper benefit. Hell, even I benefit from a kickback. Everyone wins.

There was a 21-year-old guy in my gym who fit the bill. He had the looks, the build, the height, and an outgoing and friendly personality. Moreover, he's a college student and works a minimum wage job. In other words, he had perfect recipe for becoming a male stripper. He even reminded me of a younger version of myself when I first started stripping at 21, except this guy was taller, better built, and better looking.

Throughout the course of several gym visits, I talked to him. I brought up the subject that a company was hiring for male strippers that work female-only parties. He said that it seemed like a dream job, so I handed him my agency's contact information and told him they were hiring in the area. I added that I knew the owner of the agency. At this point, this kid did not know I was a male stripper.

Here's his reply: "Oh, can you tell him to call me then?"

I don't know if he just lacked maturity and experience, or maybe he wasn't that interested. Either way, I thought that was a lackadaisical response. When an employer has an open position, then the applicant should put forth effort to initiate contact and prove himself worthy. Not the other way around. I chose the nice route of explaining reality to him and said, "This guy gets tons of phone calls all the time. He gets over 30 applicants a week. I don't think he has time to juggle for calling you. You gotta call him."

"Okay, I will."

One week later, my agent asked if I found anyone in the area, because he lost two shows due to a lack of manpower. I would have taken those shows, but I had prior bookings and can't be in two places at once. I thought by now that the kid from the gym had plenty of time to contact the agency. I gave my agent the kid's name and asked if he applied yet.

"He didn't contact me," my agent said.

"Well fuck," I said. "That was a week ago at the gym. He had plenty of time."

"Talk to him and see the next time you're at the gym."

A few days later, I ran into the kid at the gym again. He approached me and talked about getting done with finals and working out. We conversed about random bullshit for awhile until I asked him if he applied at the agency.

"Not yet, but I'll do that tonight."

I decided to be straight with this kid because he seemed to lack the confidence. Maybe he was just nervous or shy, and needed a little push in the right direction. I made sure that no one was around, then I said, "Okay, I'll be straight with you. I work for this company as a male stripper."

My statement took him by surprise. I usually keep my side job a secret, and I was risking my reputation for this kid.

"If you tell anyone else about this, I will deny it up and down and tell them that you're crazy and making up shit."

The kid instantly shook his head and said, "No, I won't tell anyone."

"All right then. The owner of that agency needs some more manpower. It's a great fuckin job. I made $1,100 last week stripping and dancing for girls and did less than 15 hours of work. Anyway, you got the looks and demeanor for the job, you just need the training. I have a party of a dozen girls in their 20's this Friday. You can tag along, and I'll train you. You got a girlfriend?"

He shook his head. "Pffft. Fuck no!"

"Good. Most girlfriends have a problem with this job. You'll be meeting a lot of girls who will want you. Most men dream of working this gig. So, you interested?"

"Um, I don't know... It sounds great and all, especially the money."

"It beats working for minimum wage."

He asked me a few more questions, nodding his head along to my glorious descriptions of the parties of women. He expressed doubt about his dancing abilities, but I assured him that one can train to become a better dancer. My statement about the pay is what piqued his interest.

"That's some good money. This sounds like some Magic Mike shit."

"If you're interested, give me a call," I said, giving him my number.

He copied it down on his cell phone. As of today, May 9, 2014, the day of the show, the kid still hasn't called me yet. Perhaps he chickened out, or he thought I was full of shit.

I don't get it. Most men would love to do this job, but can't due to various physical or mental limitations. I have gotten hundreds of e-mails from guys wanting to become male strippers. Now I offer this kid a job that most men fantasize about when they're jacking off, and he doesn't want it.

Damn kids these days. No wonder my agent has a hard time finding male strippers.

***Edit (May 14, 2014)***

My agent asked if there were any prospective applicants. I told him the story above. Here was my agent's response: "That doesn't surprise me. Most guys chicken out. They like the idea of doing this job, but they get cold feet when it's show time."

More April Entries - Part 2

Friday – April 25, 2014

Two bachelorette parties. First one in Panama City. Second one in Destin, Florida.
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I hate Panama City. Ever since MTV filmed their spring break crap there in the 90s, it turned into a party haven full of booze and college students. That sounds nice, but that combination results in a lot of traffic crashes, drunk drivers, and traffic jams.

This Friday was no different. I left an hour early and barely arrived on time for my first gig. I brought a Kindle Fire HD paired with a Bluetooth speaker and handed them to the customer when she paid me. Just prior to performing, I tried to get them to play, and the damn things wouldn’t sync properly. It was a disaster. Finally, I was able to get the Kindle to play without the speaker, but it was barely audible with its puny speakers.

The bride knew I was coming, but we had her wait outside while I was getting ready. When everything was set, she entered dressed only in a bikini and a tiara… and was very drunk and horny. She was very touchy and breathed in steady seductive gasps when I straddled her. Occasionally she screamed how hot I was.

Her friends joined in the fun and we had a good time. The only hindrance to this event was the lack of loud music. The Kindle wasn’t cutting it. Plus the girls were cheering so loudly that they drowned out what little we could hear of the music.

I had to end the party after thirty minutes in order to make my next show on time. I really wanted to extend it for these ladies. They were a great crowd and deserved longer, but the next customers wanted me earlier than expected.

When the bride found out I was leaving soon, she expressed her disappointment by saying, “I didn’t get to see Dion’s cock! I wanna see his cock!”

I assumed that my presence was not conductive to her soon-to-be-marriage.  After I finished taking pictures with everyone, I used one of the bedrooms to partially change into the costume for my next party. The bride crept into the bedroom alone while I was changing, proving my assumptions to be true. She thanked me for the show, told me that I was hot, and gave me a kiss on the lips as she hugged me. I suspected that she would have pursued a more intimate course of action if her friend had not barged into to check on her.

“What are you doing?” the friend demanded of the bride.

“I was just going to the bathroom,” she said. To her credit, there was a bathroom connected to the bedroom.

“Okay, I’ll go with you,” the friend said.

They both entered, allowing me to finish changing. They emerged as I was on my way out the door. The bride gave me another hug, a kiss on the cheek, and asked if I wanted to go out with the girls tonight.

“I can’t,” I said. “I have another party to go to right now.”

“That’s too bad,” she said with a pout. “I still didn’t get to see your dick. Show it to me next time, okay?”

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The second party was pretty tame. I made it on time luckily.

One interesting thing about this party was that there were two brides in attendance, one being 4 months pregnant. The funny thing was that she was also the wildest lady there. She joked the most, participated the most, and even wore a funny looking executioner hood at times, which is pictured here:

The pregnant bride wearing one of those "dungeon" masks.

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Saturday, April 26

This booking came from my blog. While it's not the first time someone booked me here for a show, I was flattered that she wanted to book me even after reading through some of my stories. She wanted me to strip for her friend's bachelorette party in Santa Rosa Beach, Florida, and faced a lot of dead ends with other companies.

The show was phenomenal. In fact, it was favorite party so far this year, and definitely earns its place as "the best party of April." One of the girls offered to write about the experience, so I'll wait until she gets done and post it here.

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Wednesday, April 30

It's very rare that I get a show on Wednesday. This particular one was a "going away party" at a dental office. I won't disclose the location, because it would be easy to narrow it down via internet search. Basically, the staff at the dental office wanted me to surprise one of their coworkers on her last day working there.

They scheduled me for 5 o'clock, when the business closed. I was to dress as a fireman, pretending to respond to a false alarm.

There were five people total: three females who planned my arrival, the unsuspecting female who finishing up her last day there, and a male doctor who was filming the whole thing while laughing his ass off.

Everything went as planned at first. I came in and pulled my fireman act, convincing the unsuspecting lady that I was actually a fireman. Then the music started, followed by my striptease, and the aforementioned lady's shock. Next, I injured myself by pulling a tendon in my thumb.

I wish I could say that I was pulling some extraordinary acrobatic feat when I injured myself, but there is nothing of the sort in this story. I hurt myself taking off a fucking sock. That's right. A fucking sock. Before I took off my pants, I kicked off my shoes. Usually, I wear ankle socks, but today I wore socks that went up to my calves because I was behind on laundry and had no other pair of clean socks. These socks were a pain to take off because they are so long. I didn't have any difficulty pulling my right sock off, but the left sock clung persistently to my foot. I hooked my thumb inside and pulled, and it got stuck, so I pulled harder to force the damn thing off. It came off followed by a popping sensation in my thumb. Pain shot through my hand.

My first instinct was to grab my hand. However, I was in the middle of stripping, so I gritted my teeth, forced a smile, and reverted to dancing again. Fortunately, this was one of those surprise strip-o-grams where the gimmick is the initial surprise and strip, so the customers didn't expect me to stay around for an hour and run through my gamut of tricks and entertainment.

They ladies were happy with my striptease and short rounds of interaction. The doctor filmed it all, and we watched the videos afterwards. Fortunately, I played off the pain very well in the videos.

Well, that was my first time going to a dental office and getting paid for it.

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Summary of April

A good money for extra income considering I took a week off to go on a cruise, and business was dead during Easter weekend.

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.