Stripping Stories Novels & Stories

Before Mia’s call, I was getting ready to go on stage, but my mind was racing with thoughts about quitting. “I'm really tired of this stripping job. I want to do something better with my life. But what? Getting a good job is not working for me now, not with all the requirements needed to get these jobs. But I can't keep stripping. I need something honorable”, my mind raced, desperate for a better alternative.

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.

I looked around and saw that almost everyone were crying. “I used to write love stories wherein I make the female ones to die so the male character would be hurt and so the men who would read it would know what the word pain means. . . . But Martes was strawberry gold that he rewrote it in our love story. That is why, here I am in front of you without the man who changed the way how I looked at boys, guys and men.” She softly coughs with her old voice and groans saying, “Everyone, it’s late. We should probably go to sleep now.” And we all groans murmuring, “Aawww Grandma, that’s it? That was all?”

“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.

Nicole replied and Sara looks at her in a confused manner. "Tell me, Nicole, what is it? I will do anything it takes to save Cara, please just tell me," she begged. "I am a stripper Sara," Nicole said and Sara stares at her in shock. "A stripper?" She asked and Nicole nods. "Yes, I am the head of the strippers in a strip club." Nicole retorted and Sara looked around the house once again in disbelief. "You got all this from dancing on the pole?" She questioned once more. "Sara am telling you this because I want to help and this is my only means of helping you.

"Do you understand me?" He nodded, knowing that I didn't want him to know about it. "You know what? I have an idea", he snapped his fingers. I rubbed my forehead with my palm, already guessing that this idea of his wouldn't be bright. "Let's go to the club." I knew it. I guessed right. "Let's go to the club and drink this away. Have some fun. Have us entertained with some women", he kept on describing passionately. "Stefano-" "You know what? A better idea - let's go to a strip club!! We can pay to see naked chicks dance their asses off!!", He said excitedly.

"My name's Philip, P.H.I.L.I.P, can you call me that?" "Geez, okay, Philip, can I talk now?" He arched an eyebrow and the younger sighed nodding. "So, I have a doubt" "Go ahead, I have to go home" He said impatiently. "You're a stripper, right? The goddamn know stripper Philip, the one who works at the most famous nightclub and the boy everyone wants to fuck with... Hm, who's virgin, how ironic" Mikhail Winters said with sarcasm dripping from his mouth "Philip James, the untainted stripper, right?"

She was struggling, hitting his hands, but it didn’t have any effect on him. “Because you're a f**king bitch. A stripper, a goddamn slut!” he said angrily, hardening his hand on her neck. Nora was struggling hard to breathe. Then Lorenzo suddenly let her go, as if he was just remembering something, and she fell to the ground and collapsed. Lorenzo bent down and touched her neck to make sure she was still alive, but she was still breathing faintly.

he said, his voice a low vibration that hit me square in the chest. The chatter died instantly. He turned around, leaning against the podium, his sleeves already rolled up to reveal the lion etched into his tanned skin. My pulse spiked. I couldn't stop my eyes from tracing the golden outlines of the beast on his arm, remembering the way it seemed to ripple in the moonlight of my subconscious. "The Art of Storytelling is not a solo venture," he began, his almond eyes finally sweeping over the rows. "To understand narrative, you must understand collaboration and the friction of differing perspectives. For the remainder of the semester, you will be working in groups of five."

My hand was steady as I pulled out a bottle of water, but inside, my mind was racing. They knew. Or at least, they knew part of it. Being a stripper was one thing… I could handle that. But if they dug deeper, if they found out I wasn’t a real doctor… well, I’d be fucked. I tipped the bottle back, drinking half of it in one go. Maybe I should just kill both brothers and be done with it. After all, one of them killed my brother. But getting away with that here? Not easy. Not with the eyes that were always watching.