Bachelor parties

Other fun times are the bachelor parties: sometimes you have a feeling that the school bus arrived. Grown-up men in their thirties, forties but they behave like overexcited teenage boys who see tits first time in their lives. I still don’t find the answer why that is. Maybe the peer pressure. Sometimes they pay a show or a private dance for the bachelor, otherwise, they just ogle with their eyes.

Every Knight goes through a special training to be qualified. These are called Bachelor parties. This is the total humiliation of a man so that later on he could bear his woman’s whims and tantrums. In South Africa they are more like fancy dress parties, bachelors entered the club dressed like huge babies wearing nothing just a big textile nappy. Others were dressed like Pink Panthers because women like to take care of babies and kittens. I remember I saw one guy with his arm in a plaster and he held a nursing bottle with alcohol in it. So he had the drink but he couldn’t drink it, sometimes his friends were kind and gave him a sip from their own glass. It was teaching him that after the wedding he can drink only when his woman allows him to, or when his good friend organises a short escape from home away from his woman. In Germany a poor bachelor was standing on the street with a huge carton table with a hole, you know the one he could stick out his head from, and everybody on the street could throw something at him from a basket. I couldn’t identify the objects, they were maybe some paintballs. All managed by his friends. Such good friends, he has!

And if you have never seen a bachelor party, here I write down how it is. I’ve seen a lot in Germany when the friends of the bachelor request a special show for him. It is usually a two-song entertaining. It starts as a normal dance on stage, the girl dances sexy, teasing him. Often there is a chair on the stage so she can give him a short lap dance grinding on him. When he is already in the mood, she takes off his shirt. She also goes topless. She demands him to kneel down on the ground while she takes off his belt. She puts the belt on his neck, sits on his back and asks him to walk around. This is the point when his friends start to scream and whistle and also laugh at him. The training is started. She rides him. Often she holds a riding-crop, if not she uses her hand to slap his bum a few times encouraging him to follow her request. Dear married men who went through similar training, don’t forget that moment when your wife asks you to put that picture on the wall the fifth time! Then she lays him down on the stage while she goes above him. More tortures follow. She puts some ice cubes in her mouth and is teasing his body with the ice taking it in turns with her warm and soft lips. He literally gets hot and cold from her like he will get from his wife in marriage. When he starts to enjoy the moment, she suddenly puts more ice into his pants – another moment when his friends cheer. Then she continues the tortures with candles and pouring wax on his torso. In the end, because he was brave to endure these abuses, she rewards him with red lipstick marks on his body and with a pen she writes love messages on it. When she finally lets him stand up, his body is wet and covered with wax, lipstick and pen marks, but she has not finished yet. She asks him to stand up facing the pole and she ties him up. She dances a bit pushing her boobs to his back and she takes off his trousers. She beats him up a few times with the belt. You can hear his friends from the side saying “Ouch!” and at the very last moment she takes off his underwear. So our bachelor is standing on the stage tied up, naked.

Alternatively, I’ve seen shows when after the riding the dancer also kneeled down, she put whipped cream on her bum cheeks and asked the bachelor to lick it, but when he was close to her she always made a move ahead. Like when the cat is playing with the mouse. In another show the dancer was more brutal when the bachelor was standing on the stage only in his pants, she grabbed huge scissors and cropped his underwear on both sides making a G-string for him. Well, a man has to deal with more torture in his marriage if he didn’t choose the right one.

But if the man has his own strength of character and is able to hold his own also emotionally, it’s no way for him to be intimidated. Some bachelors doing his part of the show just laughing along together with his friends. Like a ‘Come what may’ attitude.

(From the book Bedtime Stories from Stripperland)

https://publioboox.com/en_gb/bedtime-stories-from-stripperland

We, dancers, are naked therapist

Stripping is an expensive job emotionally, people with tempers find me often. Not only customers but girls also if there is something bothers them. Sometimes I feel I’m doing a therapy session at work.

“Because you are pure and such a good person, thank you for listening to me.” I hear often.

It’s not only the hustle and the drunken customers make us drained but the mental games. The following story happened in Germany. The customer bought a huge bouquet of flowers to one of the girls in the club, but she left them in the changing room because she couldn’t take them home. Actually, she gave them to another dancer who took them home. Moral lesson: Don’t post any present on Facebook if you didn’t directly get them! She posted a photo posing with the flowers and the guy next day came back to the club and was complaining and arguing for hours about the flowers and how unfair was for the other girl to take them home. Useless to say, neither of the girls was working, he had no guts to tell them face to face.

I just heard pieces of his sentences as he was talking to the bar lady, but for me, it was enough already. Literally, he was in the club for long hours complaining to everyone, including the management and other girls.
I don’t care if she sits with another customer, but she thinks they are in love with her but they are just shitting on her!”
He called all the customers assholes who are cheating on their wives just because they come to the club and pay for their favourite dancer. Anyway, he was a small, skinny guy with a high pitched voice and anger issues, kind of like he had a Napoleon syndrome.

 

To be touched by your feminine side doesn’t mean to come to the club and complain about a girl, especially when she doesn’t work that day. This man in the following four days constantly was giving a headache to everyone complaining and crying out because the girl gave the flowers to her colleague. The thought, that maybe she has a reason why she couldn’t take the flowers home didn’t cross his mind. A lot of times we’re like psychiatrists, listening to people’s problems, over and over again, people pay us just to sit there and listen to them.
Please, don’t confuse us with your therapist!

Photoblog – geroart.com

I’m always glad to organise some photoshoot during my working contract with the clubs so I can work with photographers from all over the world.

Here is one photo from my latest photoshoot in Germany. I’m very pleased with the result, the photographer is a genius!


http://www.geroart.com/

If you’d like to see more of my photos, sign up to my OnlyFans account:

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or AdmireMe account:

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Greetings from Germany!

Just a quick update because I didn’t write here lately:
 
The club where I work now, it reminds me of the first club I worked. A bit quiet but nice and relaxing. I like everything about it. The accommodation is just super, I have my own room with my own bathroom and kitchenette. I don’t need to share it with other dancers.
And I was a little shocked upon arrival when I saw the boss cleaning up the room for me, usually, they just leave it as the previous girl left it, and I have to clean before I move in. Those girls who travel for work know it’s very rare in this business. Dancers apartments are usually dirty and overcrowded.
Here if I want to run around naked all day, I can do it. I’m by myself. (No, it’s not boring! That’s my well-desired peacefulness!)
 
I like working with German guys. They are polite and easygoing, they know if they come to the club, it costs them some money. Not all buy drinks or dances, but at least they buy dollars tipping the dancers. Just a very few think they are in a cinema and they can just watch without paying. Here is no stage show all night, if they don’t pay, we don’t dance. Perfect! I like this house rule, it’s just a waste of energy dancing for guys if they don’t pay. It makes you tired for nothing. Here I don’t feel tired since I’m here (end of September) I only took one day off. The town is small but great, lots of parks around if I feel unmotivated or just need a good walk.
 
And I also have a good relationship with the people in the club. Funny, those who can speak English here, I don’t want to talk to them, and those I like to speak only German or very little English. It’s just putting me to learn more German, which is great! I already regretted the time I spent in other countries without learning the language, here I have a bit more chance to do so. I also think about going back to school, so I dusted my old psychology books and brought them with me. It keeps me occupied these days. When the club is not busy, I’m sitting in the corner wearing lingerie and heavy make-up and reading the Introduction to social psychology book or German grammar. Funny though, but you know by now I’m not your average stripper.
 
So for all these reasons above, I feel I’m in the perfect place right now. I think my travels stop here, I will come back to this club only. No more reason for me searching for another clubs. 
I’m happy where I am now.

Meeting Mr Grey

I think there is nobody on this planet who doesn’t know who is Mr Grey and his fifty shades. Or what does it mean being Mr Grey? In my recent club in Germany, it was a quiet night, not so many customers. This guy came in and sat in the booth in the corner. He was wearing a blue jumper so actually, I should call him Mr Blue. I went over to say hello but he was not interested. I would say he was a bit arrogant and distant so I left him after 5 minutes talking.
He was just an average looking guy but he mentioned something that he’s special.
(Oh yeah, everybody here thinks he’s special!) Then I sat with another customer in the next booth, but I felt he’s watching me. It kind of made me angry. If you don’t want my company and pay me, stop staring!
My customer left and I sat alone while the other girls were working. Suddenly this guy came to my table and sat down next to me.
“Don’t you remember me? I was here on Tuesday!”
I started to collect all the missing moments from Tuesday but I was a little bit tipsy so I couldn’t remember him at all. For sure he was not the one who made me drunk. I would remember if he spent money on me, otherwise how you can expect that a dancer will remember all the guys wandering around in the club? But the situation was embarrassing.. maybe I told him something not so nice and now I don’t remember?
“Do you want a piccolo (the small bottle of champagne)?”
“Yes, please!”
And the waitress girl brought a cane – it was hidden behind the bar for naughty customers – with my drink.
“Now I remember you!”
He was sitting with another girl and they spanked each other with the cane. He bent over the bar and the girl spanked him and then they changed and he got spanked. It looked like they had fun though.
“It was not really clear for me if you are the dom or the sub?”
“I like both.”
I have to admit I like to talk about fetish. I wanted to understand how someone can become a fetishist. I mean HOW? And why? It’s one big mystery for me. Often guys in clubs asked me to dominate them but in real life, I wouldn’t play this game. Teasing and pleasing yes, but not the hardcore fetish games. Often guys ask me to spank them hard or beat them with their belt, or put the belt around their neck and lead them around the club. They also like to be humiliated while other guys are watching. But they pay me to do that. So we shared our experience and the drink came to the table one after another.
“Do you like to be spanked?”
“I don’t know, I never tried.”
It’s strange before nobody wanted to dominate me. A little spank in a kinky way during private dance was acceptable but nobody asked me in real. Since I’m learning to be more feminine, it seems it happens more often.
So I let him spank me with the cane, twice. The first one was very mild. I was more curious how much it can hurt and what reaction my body makes.
It was nothing. He spanked me second time in real. Auch! My body can deal with pain, I felt it but it was still okay. (It was still nothing compared to the pain I bear in my heart these days.)
But after discovering my limits, I forgot a small thing: that I have very sensitive skin. After 2 days the bruises on my bum still look very bad and they are in every colour not only grey. Seriously, I think I can forget G-string for the following week. If someone sees it, he might think I have a very abusive boyfriend at home!