Stripping Stories Novels & Stories

The walls are bare the tapestries an empty dark blue. "I haven't stripped in a few years since I've been bartending but I'm sure it'll come to me quick. I've got old routines I can do to begin with and am comfortable on stage." I tell him trying not to sell myself short. "Well, you're not hard to look at." He stared and it doesn't sound creepy or like a compliment just a fact. "May I ask how old you are?" "Twenty-three." I supply without hesitating. "Sixteen when I started stripping and eighteen when bartending,'' I add knowing that's his next question.

I whispered at last, the words so soft they barely felt real as they left my lips. He tilted his head slightly, studying me, his eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and something darker, as if he were weighing the truth of my confession. His voice dropped, low and unfiltered, more honest than gentle. “But you work at the club as a stripper, right? You don’t have a boyfriend. Or were you trying to keep yourself?”

I just finished my task and about to go home since I still have classes tomorrow. As I walked in the pavement, refusing to ride the taxi due to the expensive fare, I had decided to just walk a kilometer instead to reach the nearest bus stop that would lead me to the street where I live with my mother and little brother, I gave a thought about my life. Kiara Stones, 22 years old and an architecture student of Himalaya University, a quiet and timid person during day, but a very different person during the night. And yes, I am a stripper at Desire Night Club. Yes I dance and strip but not totally to the point that I am totally naked. I and the other girls wear seductive and revealing dresses an

“Yep, really.” “Wow,” June muttered as her mind worked to process this. For June, stripping had always been a means to an end. A way to pay bills and keep food on the table. She hadn’t considered it could be anything more than that, let alone something someone could genuinely enjoy. So, she was baffled. Lola seemed to catch the puzzled look on her face because she grinned wider. “To be frank, I love it,” she said, her voice filled with unapologetic confidence.

She wasn't the one to care if I banged my head on the wall or not, instead she remained nonchalant and would even laugh at my downfall. I think I was a little bit lost because she tapped me and repeated the question. I looked her in the eyes, raised her chin with my thumb to look into mine then I smiled. I couldn't resist the smile, she had been a very good girl and she deserved an award. She was still putting on a cloth, I looked at her with a smirk. I said softly, almost like a whisper, “ Strip for daddy.” She nodded. She was quite obedient today, the net gown slid down her petite body.. next was the lacy pant that stuck to her wet pussy.

Trigger Warnings 18+ ONLY This collection contains explicit sexual content including: Graphic MM sex scenes BDSM dynamics Dubious consent Power exchange Rough sex Possessive/dominant behavior Strong language Reader discretion is strongly advised. A collection of stories about men who want more... Strangers in dark clubs, rivals who can't keep their hands off each other, alphas and Omegas bound by something older than either of them, two men who've been circling each other for years finally giving in. Every story stands alone. Every story burns differently. Some are quick and dirty, some take their time. Some are about the first time, and some are about the last

Kaira chuckled. The east wing had been converted into a glowing, hedonistic nightmare. Neon lights, velvet ropes, and actual strippers on podiums. Men. Women. Both. Equal-opportunity chaos. I’d brought New Orleans grit into their white-collar palace, and if the Lachlans wanted a war, I’d give them one in heels and sequins. Craig and Julian thought they could bury me with their headlines—Shameless Stripper Steals Lachlan Empire? I’m rewriting the script. Tonight, I’m the hurricane, and they’re about to drown.

' "Anything?' 'Yes.' 'Big talk. Maybe it's all talk.' 'No. Anything. You just have to say.' 'Interesting.' Her eyebrows arched. 'Let's see shall we? Strip.' 'What?' 'Strip.' 'But people can see us.' 'Interesting. "People can see us." Not, no I won't strip. Maybe you really do want to give me what I want. The windows are only waist high. Not even that in your case. Get down on the floor and strip.' And I did get on the floor. I practically collapsed to it. Sitting down I pulled off my shoes. I looked up.

MAE "These men really want to get me killed with the way they are offering me fat tips and asking me to go out with them." I complained to Isis. Since I started stripping in this place—Casa Eleganza, I had gotten an insane amount of tips that made me believe that I could actually make up to my father's debts and clear it before I died, or developed chronic waist pain—so much that I wouldn’t be able to strip anymore. "Girl, they are seriously obsessed with you and I have a plan." Isis dragged me to the bed and looked around our room as if anyone could be hiding under our bed.

The people of Rue City could not say no about Grandma going to tell her life story because they all felt happily jealous of my grandparents’ relationship and that they were waiting for this moment since the Strawberry’s Coffee Shop was built when they first met them. Grandma clears her throat and sighed deeply before she started. “I used to write love stories wherein I make the female ones to die in the end so that the male ones would suffer extreme pain till they die with their broken stone hearts. . . .because I was mad of all the love stories I heard in the world that boys couldn’t turn into a man because of their stupid lusts!” she sounded angry when she said the last two words. She inha