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

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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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 other 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!

Dollar? No dollar? Scheiße egal!

(I would translate it as f***it, doesn’t matter.)

I like the system when the club has its own house dollars for tipping the dancers. It’s like Monopoly money, fun and can give a solid income on a busy night. In Germany most of the clubs have them. When I finish my 2 songs stage performance, I go topless to each customers asking for dollars and they put it in my string. End of the night each dollar count €0.5 to my budget, which is not a lot but if the night was busy it’s easy to collect 50-100 dollars, sometimes even more. We share the tips with the club, so the club keeps the other €0.5. It’s fair enough, in some clubs I’m not allowed to keep the tips at all. I like when the club makes the customers buy the dollars. Let’s say the entrance fee is €10 but they get 10 dollars. Like it was in Luxembourg. In that case, even if they don’t pay anything to the girls, each customer give tips at least. And they rarely take it home keeping it as a souvenir.
My job is to go to everybody. If they don’t have dollars, try to sell them.
Sorry, I don’t have dollars.”
“No problem, I can take euros, pounds, sterling silver or credit card! and I press my boobs showing there is a possibility to swipe the card. Usually, it makes them smile and they buy some dollars.
I remember a long time ago I worked in Salzburg where the club had 2 floors. The stage was downstairs and a small bar upstairs. The rules were very strict, I had to go each time to the bar to see if anybody there and ask for dollars before I enter the changing room. It was exhausting, up and down on the stairs all night. Sometimes it was funny when there were no people, we made jokes with the barmen waving some salviette they wanted to put in my panties. Other night when I worked in Nice, I had a customer who showered the stage during my dance with 100 dollars, papers were everywhere and I had to be careful where to step because it can be slippery. In Brussels, the club didn’t have the dollars, but after the stage show, I still had to go to customers asking for tips. The smallest note is €5 and I could keep all the tips so it was also good. Once a guy was so drunk and he tossed a €50 note in my string. That’s really an easy money to make in a few seconds just to go there and ask if he’d like to tip. Some places I don’t make this tour after the dance, but collecting the dollars is part of the stage show. For example in Antwerp, I hated it, because there is a huge gap between the stage and the customers and every time someone wanted to give me a dollar I had to climb over this gap. It can be dangerous if you’ve had a few drinks! Some guys love to put the dollar in their mouth and ask the girls to take it with her tits. Or mouth to mouth. I always wonder if they are aware of where these dollars were before.. maybe in another guy’s mouth or even worse, in his pants touching his sweaty body. It’s fun but I really don’t like to take it with my lips. Not to mention that you can get some serious bacterial infection.
But the truth is, you come to the club, you have a few beers and 10-20 dollars, even you don’t buy drinks or private dances and you don’t spend a fortune but you still have good points and the girls don’t look at you like you are an idiot saying between themselves “at least he has dollars!” But not everyone’s giving it easily. Here in Osnabrück, I’ve been asked: “Was machst du?” (what do you do?) and the guy showed me a dollar with a huge grin on his face as he has the victory flag in his hand or at least he’s holding a €200 note… Hm, let me think… your dollar means €0.5 to me. What should I do for it? Or the other one who asked me straight away to sit in his lap for a dollar. “The lapdance is over there in the private. Here is no touching.” And he was a bit upset. One dollar won’t make me rich, keep it if you wish! There are others that want to give me with no conditions! But the rudest situation when I went to the table and the guy without even looking at me he tossed a €2 coin to me. “And what should I do with that? Buy some dollars!” and I turned and left. When I make my round, I’m not begging for money. It’s part of the entertaining, part of the fun. Giving coins is rude and humiliating although I know some girls would take it without thinking.
And just an idea at the end: if you really want to tip your favourite dancer with real money, fold it in a little piece (it doesn’t require origami skills) and put it in the front of her string. Not even the most honest dancer would give it to the club and share it after counting the dollars alone in the changing room.