hostess Archives - HeartBrokenStilettos

Insight of a Japanese hostess club

Suddenly a big fat guy came in, his fleshy nose was already red from alcohol and when he noticed me, he immediately requested me. Annushka, our Russian barmaid came to take me to his table. The guy was wearing a greyish office suit and was sweating like he was running from work straight to our club. I gave him the towel and he cleaned the beads of sweat from his forehead, then idly threw it on the table.

“I love big boobs!”

What an impressive introduction!

I was really thankful for my push-up bra and the skin-tight top I chose for the first night, they give me amazing cleavage and took the focus from my tired face. He placed his head on my shoulder but his eyes wandered down on my chest in a hope he could just take a peek under my dress. Such a desperate man, so miserable, I thought. The guy who only wants to peek into my cleavage doesn’t start from a good position.

I cleared my throat loudly.

“So would you like whiskey or soju?”

“Soju, soju…” He placed his hand on my hip and forced me to sit closer to him. He took it as an encouragement that I didn’t push his hands away.

Well, I have worked several years in different strip clubs, I got used to men staring and touching my body and entering my comfort zone. I think my bare skin on my tights and arms was like a rhinoceros skin; too thick to feel these touches any more.

My body was tired and my brain was drained to react in any way but his neediness disgusted me. I made his drink with automatic moves. Everything was set on the table, one full bottle of whiskey and one bottle of soju – customers could drink these for free of charge – a jug of water, glasses, a bucket of ice, tower of ashtrays and a lighter, serviettes; everything in reachable distance to make sure I didn’t need to stand up from the table to serve my customer. I put three pieces of ice cubes into his glass, poured some soju on it then filled it up with water.

“Dozo.” I placed the glass in front of him on the table and offered him to drink it. He narrowed his eyes and looked at me with a grin on his face while he stirred his index finger above the glass showing me that I forgot to mix the alcohol with the water.

“Gommennasai!” I grabbed the metal woman-body shaped stirrer from the ice bucket and quickly stirred his drink.

Now you can drink it, bastard! I thought while I was forcefully smiling at him.

(From the book The Stripper and the Yakuza)

https://www.steppingstonespub.com/b-lindsay-belan/

I’m just a good girl with bad habits

If anybody asks what was my most exciting erotic experience, I always start with this story. It happened in London for quite a long time ago. But I feel I have to add it to the blog before everyone thinks I’m an innocent person (and because lately I only wrote about the pure facts of my work). So let’s talk about sex! Lately, I gave out only dry information about dancing on my blog, it’s time to spice it up! So here are some saucy bits:

That was my first night in that club and I couldn’t exactly figure out the rules.

In the interview, the manager told me it’s all about hostessing (meaning selling champagne and talking to the clients) but the club was in the basement of a hotel. Whatsoever, he ensured me there is no sexual activity involved. I remember it was a Monday night, not so busy. I worked there with 4 other girls, they were friendly and welcoming. Our shift was almost finished when two customers arrived.

One older, bold guy, he was the boss and a young, handsome guy who was the employee of the old one. They were a bit tipsy as they had a company event and they didn’t want to go home yet. So they ended up in our club. The old one knew the rules more than me – it was not his first time there for sure – and they ordered champagne for all of us. Bottles after bottles. The young guy was a chatty-box, quite intelligent though, the old one was funny. We really had a great time with them, they were easy customers. I thought so.

Not long before closing, the old guy disappeared with the manager in the back. I noticed that but I didn’t think it was a big deal. Then they came back with a huge grin on both of their faces. And the manager called one of the girls who seemed to work there for a long time and he whispered something in her ears. We had more fun but we finished the last bottle and the manager told us “OK, that was it, we are closing”. We went to the changing room, I went straight to my locker. But then I heard the others talking:

“Listen, they don’t pay enough.”

“Let’s just have some fun!”

“I need the money.”

“I don’t fuck for that money!”

“OK, so we’re gonna play with them for half an hour, but no penetration. I will tell the boss.” and the girl left.

In a minute I understood what happened in the back, what was all the whispering about. The girls didn’t talk secretly, but it was obvious I’m not involved in further business as I was a new girl and they didn’t know if I would agree or not. Suddenly one of them turned to me: “I guess you’re not interested. But we all go with the 2 guys to one of the rooms upstairs. Do you want to come?” Before I said anything, the girl came back: “They want all of us!” and looked at me impatiently.

I had 2 options: I get ready quickly and as soon as I can leave the place and get the next night bus home, or I can be naughty and have seven-some harmless adult fun.

Guess which one I chose? You’re right, the next night bus left without me.

It was not about money. The girl was right, they didn’t offer enough that I would have sex for if I’m a prostitute (I would fall into the high class and expensive category) If I remember well it was something between £100-150 each. The idea was already sick that the boss wanted to watch how his employee fucks a girl. But you don’t have this opportunity often and me having a curious nature I couldn’t turn the offer off.

The room was small and the girls were pros. They turned on the TV, it was some music channel and two of them started to dance in the middle of the room doing a small lesbian show, the other two got the guys undressed and then each other. I lost following what’s going on around me when one of the girls went down on me. I realised later that I was the only one having an orgasm that night.

I was not forced to do anything, it was my free choice. Half an hour later the girls started to get dressed and we left. For other reasons, I didn’t stay in that club for long, but until today I don’t regret it. I don’t even have a shame to talk about it.

What else can I say more: Welcome to my world of new experiences!

Laura’s research into lapdance experienses 1.

I met a girl in Paris who told me she’s studying on university and how she entered the whole glittery pinky stripper world was that she went interviewing a few dancers in a local club to write an essay and she started to like the atmosphere and decided to work in clubs afterwards. See, not every girl’s doing it for money or because they have been forced to do so, but some also realise it’s such a good job to learn about our own sexuality and express ourselves. So after talking to her, I got an email from a lovely girl – let’s call her Laura – who asked my help to write her dissertation. “I am doing research for my dissertation, which is looking into the ways in which lap-dancing is empowering for women, but I also want to learn about the difficult parts of the industry! Basically, I just want to give an honest story. I have never done lap-dancing before so I cannot write from my own experiences, and I came across your blog and it is so interesting! You seem very honest about your work and you seem to have travelled and worked in many countries.” I thought such a brave girl to write about this subject and I’m happy to help if it doesn’t cost money so I said yes to her. And some of her questions are so intelligent and worth to write a whole post as an answer.

“How did you feel when a customer breaks the rules and touches your intimate area when giving them a naked lap dance? “

When I read this question the stories started to come to my mind. But I’m telling you the best one. I was working in Toronto, Canada where the club had a totally unique system. The customers chose the girls from a photo album with the help of the bookers. Those guys were walking around with a huge album in their hands any anybody wanted to have a lap dance, they suggested the girl who suits the best for them. We girls were not allowed to talk to customers, it was a sitting area for us or we could stay in the changing room (even for a quick nap). So because of that, there was no previous agreement on what I do in private and what I don’t. It was a whole forum on an internet site about which girl is a giver in the club and it was so popular amongst the customers. If I find it, I will link it here because it was so funny and entertaining to read. So basically the guy who booked me for dance was never so sure what he can get from me.

Once I got booked by a young guy for 30 mins. He was around 20. We went down to the private area, I seated him and started to dance. Without asking or saying anything, he started to unbutton his jeans. I didn’t say anything but gave him a bad look. He didn’t get the signal – or didn’t want to understand – and his hand slid down inside his trousers. I don’t let the customers jerk themselves during my dance so I told him to stop. He said OK. And then I changed my position, I danced a bit facing the wall and when I turned back his willy was out and it was a huge grin on his face.

“I told you not to do it!” (Jesus, this half an hour dance will be difficult!)

“OK, OK! I apologise.. but a little bit?”

“NO!”

But some really like testing the waters. I thought finally he got the message, I turned again to the wall. I bend over to take my panties off when I saw him between my legs what he’s doing. Of course, his trousers down on his hips and he was jerking. I really hate when I have to repeat myself again and again, and it seems this bloke was deaf or something not to hear what I was trying to say. I found a more effective way. I grabbed his beer from the small table where he put it, suddenly turned back and put it upside down into his trousers. The cold beer poured down on his erection and on his balls.

“Now I hope you understand what I was saying to you!”

He immediately jumped from the sofa and called me on every name you can imagine. I gave him back his dance tokens and left.

Dear man, if the dancer says not to do it, it means NOT TO DO IT! Once I had to listen to 30 mins lecture from my manager because my customer did the same when I danced showing my butt to him. My manager passed the curtains and she saw what’s going on and interrupted the dance. I told her I’m wearing my eyes on the front and I can’t see what he’s doing behind my back but she thought I let him do. Seriously I almost got fired just because the guy was not listening. Same with touching. In some clubs, they are very strict about it and I can get in trouble if they see it on the security cameras. What? If there are security cameras??? Of course, there are! Who would believe that there is no control over what’s going on in the VIP room? The clubs have to protect themselves if anything happens there.

But answering the question, it happened to me that the customer touched me in an inappropriate way – again I was showing my back to him and I did a sexy bend over. He thought it’s funny if he touches me between my legs. As I felt his finger on my private area I turn back and suddenly gave him a huge slap on his face.

“Never do it again!”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Get out!”

“But I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Get the fuck out of here!!!”

I was cold as ice and he understood the fun is over and he left. After the security guy came to me asking why I finished the dance sooner. I told him what happened and he just shrugged his shoulder. “Hm, OK.”Of course, it was OK. It was no argument about paying back the dance or anything. Security can help to kick out an angry guy or step between the dancer and customer if it’s necessary. But behind closed doors (or curtains) I’m in control. And I have to make sure that nothing happening there that can harm me. I remember working as a hostess. Once we had a beautiful girl who never worked in this field before. She got chosen by a “good” customer and the guy paid her champagne bottle after bottle. As it was her first night, she easily lost her limits. And the control. After she was crying in the toilette because the guy tried to finger her through her tights and panties and she felt violated. That was her first and last night.

That’s MY body, I make the rules! I understand there are different clubs and in some clubs, you can get more, I also understand that the temptation is big, but if the dancer says NO, it means NO. It’s always better to ask than walking through the whole club with wet pants and it looks you just peed yourself during the private dance.

Yakuza in Japan

My favourite question about Japan: Have you ever seen any yakuza there? You won’t believe how many people are asking me that if I mention I was working in Japan or by email when they read my articles here. Funny, but Japan is not all about yakuza.

But answering the question: yes, I met a few. If you’ve been to Japan probably you met them too as you can’t see the difference between a well-dressed yakuza and an average businessman. They don’t like to show off. You can easily pass him on the street without knowing. They even hide their tattoos in public places as they don’t want you to know. Not like some western gangsters that put all the signals on themselves showing they are the tough guys. They came often in the club I worked for. Not a big deal, they never spent on girls just talked about their own business. And you don’t want to interrupt.. especially when the guy has some missing fingers! (Cutting the finger means punishment or apology amongst them.) I had this customer once. I didn’t even want to know his name.

But not all of them are bad. (Unless you mess up with them.) Once we were sitting at the table, 3 yakuza, me and other 2 Russian girls. One of the girls spook good Japanese, they were talking, my customer didn’t speak English and my Japanese was not enough to communicate so I just poured his drinks and smile. They ordered drinks for us too. I lifted up my glass to say Kampai! (not even an English cheers!) and the Japanese speaker Russian girl just looked me in the eyes, she said Kampai! to her customer but nothing to me. I found it absolutely disrespectful! If we are not in Japan and I don’t need to behave myself that much, I swear of God I would have thrown my glass to her face! (I think that was the moment when I decided f*** Japan, I’m going home!) But I’m a tough girl too. Without a slip, I put back my glass onto the table and I decided not to touch it. I just watched how the ice is melting in my gin&tonic. It was awkward when the girls finished their drinks and my glass was still full so they couldn’t order the next round. The same Russian girl gave the look to finish my drink but I didn’t care. I didn’t say a word just smiled but my facial expression told her everything. She’s already screwed this up with me. When the customers left, she didn’t say anything (actually I was ready to hear all the complaints to Mama-san about me) The funny thing, after 1 or 2 days the same group came back. The yakuza The Russian girl was sitting with requested me this time. All the time he asked me if I’m okay, he ordered the drink without asking and even bought food for us. And I thought he was unaware of the situation! I felt his sympathy although he never asked what was going on between me and the Russian girl.

My other experience was not so friendly. We had 2 customers and another girl and I were sent to the table to look after them. You have to know about Japanese hostess clubs (even normal clubs and restaurants) there is not enough place between the tables. The other girl sat on the edge of the sofa and I had to go to sit with this guy through a very narrow place between the two tables. We just introduced ourselves when 3 young guys run into the club and started to hit my customer. The other girl and all the staff run into the kitchen and they were screaming at me to go there too. But I quickly analysed the situation, if I stand up wearing high heels and try to get out from the table through that narrow place I’m sure I would have gotten a punch in my pretty face too by accident. I decided to curl up on the sofa and protected my head and face from the flying object around (glasses, bottles, glass pieces) I was not their target anyway.

One more yakuza arrived (he was the boss of the other 3 as anybody could see) He had charisma. Didn’t talk much but he gave the order to the young to take the guy outside and not to make a mess inside the club. Obviously, they continued beating him up outside but it was not our business any more. We just quickly cleaned up the mess of what they left behind.

So yes, I met yakuza in Japan. Indeed I slept with one. But this is another story…

I’m a stripper and you can ask anything you want to know..

Let’s play this game. You can ask me anything – seriously anything – about my work, I will give you an honest answer.

I got emails often and the most popular question is how I became a stripper. I used to get male attention since I started modelling at the age of 16. That time I had lots of fight with my dad – no real fights, no verbal or physical abuse, more of a cold war. He didn’t show interest in me, so I was seeking this attention somewhere else. Yes, in my case the psychological cliché as every stripper has daddy issues is true. But during my work years, I’ve seen the proof of the opposite too.

After portrait modelling, I started to do nude modelling. I was always proud of my body and I had trust in the photographers I worked with. I worked in Austria and Italy a lot so I got a bit of a chance to travel. But this time we only speak about artistic nude photography. Like a naked girl, painted in gold standing in the middle of a lake as a statue. Austrian photographers love bodypainting and they are quite creative. I really enjoyed those workshops. But of course, I met different photographers with different offers. I was relatively young and naïve, and the amount of money was very tempting. So slowly I got involved in the adult industry. But this I didn’t enjoy that much. I enjoyed spending the money I made (when I studied on the university, I’m sure in some months I got bigger salary than my teachers.) or I was happy when I could support my mum with a bigger amount but it came with shame.

The opportunity for dancing came on casting when I was talking with other girls and both were a dancer. I was curious so I asked the contact number of the guy that I can apply to. Very soon I went to Italy and after I was with him at the Austrian embassy signing a 3 months contract and waiting for my visa. The beginning was hard. I still remember the song when I first danced on stage. The other girls gave me enough alcohol not to remember what I was doing (thank God!) but I still remember the song was Get busy by Sean Paul.

When I finished the contract, I had 2 choices: I carry on dancing and I make more money, but then I lose the energy I already invested in my studies. That was after my 2nd year at the university, I was halfway to get my diploma and I’m not the kind of person who gives up easily. I decided to go back and finish my studies. I told myself “If I miss the spotlights, I still can work as a dancer afterwards.” But when I got my diploma, I forgot all about the stage, private dances, selling champagne and extra high stripper shoes. I wanted to have an average life. But that was a difficult time in my country, after a few failures in finding a good job I decided to move to England for 1-2 years. In Hungary, I was already thinking about trying out myself abroad when I was sitting in a job interview and listen to the guy offering me a job in another city, that meant minimum 2,5 hours travel every day, over time, limited access to grow for the minimum salary. That was all that my country could offer me. No, thank you. I quit. I went home from the interview and I bought a one-way ticket to England.

The first year I had a normal job as a nanny. Then I moved to London from the countryside and I found all those dodgy opportunities working at night. I started to work at a hostess club on Little Portland Street to improve my English. I was about talking and selling champagne but no dancing. It was great fun, good money, I didn’t look for other options. Then I changed the club and started to work at the Directors Lodge at St. James. That was the longest time I spent in one club, I worked there for almost 2 years. But still no dancing. Then I had a chance to change working in a restaurant where I was quite disappointed and not long after I was heading to Greece. (you can read more about in the Beginning 2. post)

Long story short, this is my life. This is what made me who I am today. Now I’m not ashamed anymore, I take full responsibility for all my decisions, without regrets. And today I’m brave enough to tell you that you can ask me ANYTHING, I will give you an honest answer.