Personal Stripper Novels & Stories

~Alexa~ "Get Dina here, now!" I shouted, my frustration echoing through the office. One of the girls quickly bolted to fetch her. My account book sat on the desk in front of me, glaring back like an unwelcome reminder. Dina was the club's newest stripper, and in her first week, she was a star—pulling in over $500 a night and earning the title of my favorite. But now? Her nightly earnings had plummeted to less than $100.

My heart gave a hard thump. “The stripper?” one of the girls asked, a giggle in her voice. “Yeah. Works at that club, Onyx. Heard she gives private dances in the back rooms for extra cash. Real private.” Heat rushed to my face. I kept walking, my legs feeling stiff. “I heard she’s hooked up with, like, all of them,” the other guy chimed in. “Jeremy Blackwood, obviously. But the brothers too. Raphael, Caspian… even the quiet one, Silas. She’s like a… a house pet. For all of them.”

Just as I said, I pulled into the gas station, waited for them to be out of sight and then turned around and headed back to the strip club. When I got back there, Whisper was sitting on one of the couches out in the front lobby, talking to another stripper that also got me hot when she performed. She was chunky but gorgeous. She had long dark hair, D-size tits and a nice pussy. She wore a tank top when she performed and didn’t take it off; she would just pull down to expose her tits. I guess she was self-conscious about her gut, but I still thought she was the second-sexiest stripper in the joint. I remembered her name was Nina when they announced it over the speaker hours earlier when she p

She picked up her makeup blender and dabbed it against her wrinkled chin. shortly, she heard her phone ringing out loud, so she placed down the blender and picked up her phone. She beamed a delightful smile immediately she saw who the caller was, it was Mr Jones. Mr Jones was her boss and the CEO of JN night club, that was where she works as a stripper. Her boss only calls her whenever there are rich clients requesting for her service. She's not so proud of her job as a stripper but she isn't ashamed of it either. Of cause, one can't be ashamed of their only means of survival. She has been a stripper ever since she gave birth to Gina and she isn't planning of quiting anytime soon.

She sipped more whiskey, lips wet and glossy, eyes hazy from the alcohol and all the live fucking she’d been watching her pussy was probably dripping down her thighs with no panties on. The stripper got closer, still jerking his dick, and reached out like he was gonna grab her big tits. “Come on baby, let me feel those,” he said with a dirty grin. Laura waved him off quick, pushing his hand away. “Just dance, don’t touch me. I’ll spray you money but keep your hands off.” She pulled some bills and tossed them at him, but the guy didn’t listen. He kept moving forward, cock still hard and pointing at her, trying to press up against her chest trying to grind on her.

raw, unfiltered lust. 'Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been a week since my last confession.' Her words hit me like a shot of whiskey, burning straight to my core. Sandra. The stripper from the seedy clubs down on 5th Avenue, the one who wrapped her sins in lace and leather, coming to me week after week like clockwork. At first, I thought it was genuine remorse, a soul seeking redemption amid the neon lights and grinding hips of her world. But as the months dragged on, her confessions turned into something else entirely, a slow, deliberate seduction that chipped away at the walls I'd built around my celibate heart.

A loud cheer filled the auditorium as Stacy had just ended one of her numerous performances. The whole hall exploded into screams as each man wanted nothing but to have that gorgeous beauty on their bed, screaming their names as they pumped their long and fat côcks into her hole. Stacy overlooked the lustful gaze on her and made her way out of the hall. After three days of intensive training, she has successfully become a stripper at premier clubs, and in just two weeks, she has gained the hearts of multiple men with her outstanding performances.

He added, making a gesture as he pointed to my lingerie. He pulled me closer and held my face in his palm as he brought his lips closer to mine, the thought of having to kiss a completely old stranger made me retch and I had almost puked all over him, controlling myself, I pulled away from his touch and I could see the angry look in his eyes. “You’re not paying me to kiss or sleep with you, I get paid to strip, I’m a stripper and not a slut!” I said firmly, trying to stand up but I felt a pull on my hand that made me sit back down at once.

But this is one hell of a cliché believe me, because no one's sweeping me off my feet. I’m not a saint. Neither am I a sinner. I'm in between, you know. Cause stripping requires you being a total bad bitch. You couldn't survive if you play this game like an amateur. Oh yeah, I’m a stripper. Shocker! Told you I wasn't a saint. And, my stripping name’s Energia Rossa.