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Chapter III

I am a horoscope junky. I will generally read four different horoscopes in a day, looking for clues that may reflect my situation. The morning after the party which took me on a journey, I had a horoscope that caught my attention. It told me to “Be the best in the world at what you do.” I thought to myself, I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be the “best in the world” at anything, but I could certainly be better in general. I decided to up my game a bit.

I went out and purchased a pair of those furry handcuffs and a few candy necklaces. I was really looking for some costume options, found literally tons of costumes for women, but nothing for men.

Being just two days after my last strip act, I was feeling a bit self-conscious. I had a few in grown hairs existing in that annoying red dotted form, some zits on my shoulders and still a pretty uneven tan. I also happened to be getting some back spasms. Usually when this happens, I stay in bed for a day and wait for it to go away. However, I had read recently that it’s best to try to work through the pain to stretch out the muscles. So I went to the pharmacy to load myself up with over the counter back pain medication and danced around my apartment for a good two hours before the party. I was going to put the pain and the self-conscious attitude behind me.

I called the maid of honour to find out some details about the bachelorette party. It was to be taking place at a hotel in the west part of the city. She asked for the “wild” show, these were a bunch of crazy nurses I was told. I said I’d do my best. I picked up a couple of pizzas and was on my way.

I always wonder what peoples’ idea of “wild” is. I’ve seen porn on the internet where male strippers come out to a bar full of women and proceed to get jerked, blown and fucked by total strangers. Set ups? Very likely, but I have to wonder if that’s what people could be expecting when I show up to a party. As much of a turn on that fantasy is, it also makes me worry about what I could be in for if that sort of expectation is there.

However, experience has shown me that most women don’t really want to see a strange man’s penis. In fact I haven’t even shown it once. I think the mystery of what’s under my underwear is more appealing, also the safety of a bit of clothing between it and them allow the party guests to be more at ease.

When I arrived I made sure to do some final stretches outside of my car. I knocked on the door and headed in. The mood was electric. These girls were definitely ready to party. The bride was sitting on one of the beds. I put the pizzas down and made my way over to her. I took off my t-shirt, they cheered. I took off my jeans, they cheered some more. I climbed onto the bride’s lap facing her and began to thrust. I then turned around and began to gyrate, rubbing up against her when I felt like it. I bent forward and demanded she put a hand to my right butt cheek. It took her a few tries, but she got the hang of it.

I grabbed the handcuffs and chained her hands behind her back. I went to put the candy necklace on her but it wouldn’t fit over her head. It must have been made for a child’s head. “Fail!” I thought to myself. She played it off well.

After releasing the bride from her soft red shackles I made my way around the room, dancing and grinding up against everyone I could. One woman told me I needed to mess my hair up a bit, that it looked too “prissy”. I said that she was going to get it. I put her on the bed, spread her legs and pretended to fuck the shit out of her. She laughed hysterically. She was loving it.

After dancing around on the beds putting my junk in as many faces as possible, I was given a couple of Jell-O shots and told that the limo was set to arrive any minute to take these girls away. As I put my clothes back on, I was asked by the girl who commented on my hair about how much I perform and how it works with the agency. I told her that the agency gets $80.00 when they get a party booking and that when I show up I get $80.00 cash plus tips. She thought that I have a hard job.

My back pain had completely disappeared leaving me theorizing about the healing qualities of stripping. Never before had I truly beaten the pain. As I drove home that night with a huge confidence boost and a major shot of adrenaline I wondered how hard my job really is. Sure the hardest part is working up the courage to get there, but after the clothes come off it feels like the most natural thing I could be doing. When the energy is as great as it was that night, it feels like I have the easiest job in the world.