HeartBrokenStilettos

Chasing the Midnight Sun

Let’s start this story with December last year. I’ve been here in Iceland already. I’ve heard lots of good thing about the club here and I wanted to give it a go. 2 days before my flight the agency contacted me that the club is currently not open, but the owner wants me to come anyway as they can reopen at any time. So I arrived but the club didn’t open the next day or next week either. I spent 2 weeks in Reykjavik hoping that I can work but nothing happened. Finally, I gave it up, enjoyed a few days more as a tourist here and I was heading back to the UK.

The owner was very supportive, he totally understood my situation. I can’t have a bad word about him. I told him I want to leave because it’s just not worth it to spend the money I earned in another country (and if I want to take a holiday I would rather go somewhere warm.) So he booked me the ticket back to London, he gave me money for the ticket I lost (I couldn’t just change the date on the return flight) he booked me a hotel for a night and he sent his driver to take me to the airport next morning. He was absolutely correct!

I was not so disappointed. You always take some risks when you travel. And I found Iceland an extremely beautiful country; cold, but very nice. I met a nice photographer here, we rented a car and he took me to the best places where I could take some breathtaking pictures. I went to explore Reykjavik in a snowstorm, when I got snow, rain, hail and strong wind all in one. But I didn’t mind. I visited the Icelandic Penis Museum 🙂 and the Blue Lagoon. I was disappointed only about one thing: I couldn’t see the Northern Lights as the sky was too cloudy those days. But I decided to come back here in the summer. One thing was in my head and made me think: it can’t be a bad place if some girls can wait here long weeks without work for the reopening because they want to keep their place in the club. If they leave, there is a chance that other girls will arrive and they have to wait for free places. Some clubs work with a limited number of girls because of the accommodation. They care about the girls and they don’t just throw a mattress on the floor saying “you will sleep here.”

So now here I am again. Finally, the club is open! And the country in the summer showing a different face. I landed at Keflavik airport at 23.30. Outside was still daylight. Not sun, but let’s say like a rainy day in England. The night started only around 2 am and soon after there was morning already. Friday night lots of people on the streets. It looks promising. Now I can’t wait to see how is work here! 🙂

When money talks

I have a funny story from another day. I know some people just like to be judgemental and I should not be surprised after I’m saying I work as a dancer they give me a bad look. I can not imagine how is in the States as I’ve heard different opinions about it. Some say the dancers are treated as artists or entertainers and they have more respect. But I also heard the opposite. I think it’s just different from person to person. Here in Europe people are more conservative as they say. (Although Europe means 45 different countries and many different cultures.) But for sure I don’t like to speak up and say out loud what is my profession. Just like that day.

I arrived back from Corsica and I went to the local money shop to exchange the money I earned there. I always go to the same place. I know the exchange rates are not the best there, but my bank is on the other side of the road and I don’t like to walk around with lots of cash in my pocket.

This time the young lady behind the desk gave me a little bit of a hard time. She is from the same country as me, but I never saw here in the shop before. I had no proof of address with me and she needed to arrange a couple of phone calls to authorise the exchange. (It happened before but they were more flexible. Brits and their all-the-time afraid of money laundry, eh..)Suddenly she asked me how I got the money… I looked at her and without thinking I just said I’m a dancer. I didn’t need to explain what kind even I was wearing glasses and no makeup. She tried to be professional but her voice changed. From that moment I was just a “dancer” and she was a very important businesswoman behind her desk talking on her phone. She was superior. I found the situation kind of funny and embarrassing at the same time.

Oh well, without the proof of address I couldn’t be successful, but I promised to come back later on the same day. As I did. I went to the same window with the same lady.

“Um, what did you say how long have you worked in France?”

“4 weeks.”

“And this is the salary you’ve got for 4 weeks???”

“No. I spent quite a lot.”

Her jaw dropped. Even I think it was not a big amount of money, it is a normal salary for an average manager position in England. (I guess she was impressed by the amount in Euros and she forgot that it will be less in GBP.) But then she asked me with wondering eyes:

“Can I apply? For this, I work here for 2 months..”

I was smiling. And of course, I was satisfied! From the cold businesswoman, she turned into a nosy, kinky girl and started to ask me more questions about dancing. Luckily there was no queue behind me.

“You know I was just thinking about it these days. I feel lucky. Within a year I worked in 10 countries and 3 of them are overseas.”

“Great! And you got paid for that!!!”

I felt I was the absolute winner of this situation! I left the shop with a smile on my face. And again, I was right! Average people don’t know much details about this job. They are full of judgements, but when they have the opportunity, they have lots of questions. They want to know the dirty details. Here you can read a lot!

The Little House of Fetish

I can not call myself a prude woman. I had a boyfriend before that he loved me wearing stockings in bed. I didn’t find it difficult if that makes him happy, why not. As I’m doing fetish modelling these kinds of desires are not unknown to me. I don’t know why but I noticed lately that guys with secret fantasies sooner or later open up for me and telling me or their dirty secrets. And I love those private dances when my customer only wants to give me a foot massage or lick the heels of my shoes! But experience something extreme in private life, it’s a different story.

First I was dating a guy and he liked the glossy, shiny hold-ups on me. For every date we had he arrived with a pair of black stockings. He knows I love the vintage style Agent Provocateur ones (I already have a whole collection of them) So we were dating for a while but one night after having sex he turned to me saying: “Honey, I love your legs in these stockings. But what if next time I’m gonna wear them?”

End of story. I didn’t know if I should have been embarrassed or laugh out loudly. I had no words to him just went to the bathroom because I couldn’t hide my surprised face. Obviously, that was our last date. Can you imagine a big, masculine guy asking you for wearing your tights? I know in this century we shouldn’t be surprised at all, but the personal experience is more intense and you really don’t want something like that from a guy who anyway could be a long-term partner or the father of your child.

In the second situation I was more brave and curious (and let’s say tipsier). I had a customer that I had a good time with, we were laughing a lot and opened the bottle of champagne one after another. Suddenly he just gave me his whisky glass.

“I want you to pee in it!”

Probably the alcohol I drunk previously made the effect on me that I was not surprised.

“OK, I do but only if you drink it!”

It’s definitely not something I do often. But that was one of the situations in my life when I chose to go beyond my limits. And he was only a customer I’ve seen first time (and last time), I mean there were no emotions attached. So I did it for him. He drunk it with no facial expression just like he’d drink his whisky. He only asked for some ice to put in. OK, this is also something we know it exists, no surprise here. But such a big difference in person than just to hear about it.

The third one was the weirdest I can say although I don’t know if I should mention it on the same page with the fetish. All my readers can decide about it.. (I’d love to know what Freud would comment!) I met this guy. He was one of the kindest types that I don’t meet quite often and somehow I felt good with him from the beginning. But he had this tiny little thing: a small dog. I had boyfriends with dogs before and after him but it was something I’ve never seen. First, when she (you read it well, SHE!) started to humping on his arm, I did not pay attention to it. Nature has its funny ways to express itself. But later on, I realised that is kinda part of the daily routine: feeding the dog, playing with the dog, make the dog cum… Yuck! When I asked how he knows that she has an orgasm, he said: “Her pussy is moving just like yours.” (I felt sort of offended that my pussy has been compared to a dog’s.)

Later I tried to tell him that I don’t think this is a healthy way of living with a dog, but his answer was “it’s normal, you can check it on Youtube, there are lots of videos” Yes, but the normal reaction from guys is laughing on it, make a video because it’s strange or simply just tell the dog to “go away”. Not to mention not everything is normal what you can watch on Youtube. I also googled it, but I had to stop educating myself on this subject when the 2nd or 3rd article was a step by step guide “how to train your dog to fuck you”.

My mistake that I didn’t say anything to him about how disgusting it was. I just couldn’t find the right words. It made me confused and I even questioned my own sexuality when after having sex with me he still wanted to please his dog. (As I noticed that he was the one who generated the whole game. I don’t want to talk here about Pavlov, his dogs, the reflexes and that bell..) Because the dog taught him to love. Excellent, so what I’m doing here? So next time when I’m single, feeling lonely and unloved, should I buy a horse??? I’m done. No more words. The rest is out of the question.

But again, I learned something about myself. Since then I know I’m not able to love someone unconditionally, just the way he is. In theory, it sounds beautiful, but good or not, I have my own conditions. And I think every healthy-minded women would think in the same way.

(Overall I try not being judgemental here. It’s not about put those guys on a blacklist. End of the day it is their life, their choice, their habits. But they helped me a lot to realise my own limitations and acceptance.)

Boring, boring..!

Well, I must suggest that this is the most boring job I’ve ever had. I know that this is the time for football, beers and World Cup for lots of guys (I was no surprised when I read an article about the divorce rate increased 5% in China during these days) Our club is deadly empty. In every place can have 1 or 2 bad days, but nearly 2 weeks? And the World Cup hasn’t been finished yet.

And of course, when it’s less busy, women have more chance to talk about others. Thank God, I don’t speak French so I don’t get involved! But funny at the same time because I understand what they talk about, I just play the stupid that I don’t. So the manager complains about the girls that they don’t work hard enough, the barmaid complains about the manager that she wants her to do everything at the same time, the girls complain about customers that they don’t want to spend money and of course about each other that the apartment is dirty and so on. And me complaining about the whole club here. 🙂 No, it’s not really a truth, I can’t complain because nothing is happening there. It reminds me of when I was working in London during the Olympic Games. Everybody expected to be super busy, but clubs, restaurants, cafes in the centre were not busier than usual. The club I worked was also quiet but there we could use the Internet, read a book (I used that time to study) or sleep. Here it’s not like that. I’m sitting at the bar for hours with a straight back looking at the line of alcohol bottles. Sometimes I move to a different chair for a different view. I never understood why we can’t use our mobile to kill the time when it’s not a single customer there. But at the same time, I can’t say anything because I have a good daily salary so basically I’m making money doing nothing. Oh, and I almost forget! Since I’m here I haven’t performed on stage, not even once in 3 weeks!

And when it’s customers, they are easy. When they buy me a bottle of champagne in the VIP and they don’t speak English I suddenly have better skills than a pantomimic artist and they like it. Or sometimes they don’t want to talk to the girls at all, they only come to see the manager or the boss, but they buy a glass of drink one after another for us too. We just sit there and smile. Easy peasy, isn’t it?

But I must say I met some crazy guys here too. The one who took me for a private dance and only wanted me to sit on his face was the weirdest. I’ve heard about that fetish before but when you meet someone who literally likes it, it’s different. I only could think about what is wrong with this guy? The one who wanted to lick my armpit couldn’t be bothered me so. But what I found strange here, more customer asked me to slap him on the face or beat him up.. more than other countries. So they would be the gangster type guys with a little Italian blood that need a Mamma to punish them when they misbehave? They can not give me answers about why they like it, so I think I need to buy a book about this subject. No problem, I have lots of time to educate myself here!

Viva la Corsica!

Here I am again: sun, sea, summer, ice cream and hotpants. With no doubts, this is my favourite time of the year. And I feel lucky that I can find holiday destinations for work. Well, the location where the club is not the nicest part of Bastia but who cares when you can reach la plage in 10 minutes walk. Not white sand like it was in the Caribbean but the water is crystal clear. So however the work is, I’m not going to complain a lot. La vie est belle!

And after Geneva, Luxembourg and Gwada I am again in a French-speaking country. Shame on me that I didn’t take an effort to learn the language, although I use lots of expressions and I can understand a lot, but the time I spent in these places I should have learnt some French. C’est la vie I guess. But the truth is I never felt this language is mine. (French kiss oui, any time!)

I’m curious about men on this island. I’ve heard that they are short tempered (mix the French, Italian and Arab blood and you will see what I mean) and they have the complex of Napoleon (who was born here) as they are shorter than the average. I also heard they are very nationalists and crazy mafia kind of guys (lots of them carry guns but with their short temper I don’t think it’s a good idea) Well, we will see. But mafia guys cannot scare me any more as in Japan I met lots of yakuza and I know I don’t want to mess up with this type. There I had a customer who had 3 fingers missing. Between yakuza cutting the finger is kind of punishment or apologie. He never said anything bad to me but I didn’t want to push my boundaries with him either. Being an independent and proud woman doesn’t mean I’m looking for trouble. Here I will use the same policy. Better to be safe than sorry.

At least I don’t think I will have problems with the girls here. The club is very small and only 3 girls are working and they seem to be nice. I know one of them from Belgium, we worked together in Antwerp, hmm… 3 years ago. It’s funny, you know you spent too much time in this business when you go to a new place and there you meet someone you have worked with in another club, another country. It happened in Luxembourg where I met a girl that I know from Belgium too, or in Gwada where I met a French girl and before we also worked together in Geneva. Yes, it’s true, the world is too small.

And I definitely won’t have a problem with the food here. I can survive on crepe till the end of my staying here! 🙂

Now bon nuit everyone, a tout a l’heure!