Stripping Stories Novels & Stories

‘I … I wasn’t I was just making a copy for …’ ‘Don’t lie to me on top of everything else! You need to start answering my questions, because if it’s what I think it is, answering my questions are the least of your worries,’ he glares at me challengingly not to lie to him, he’s right though, it’s only going to get worse from here. 'Strip' his eyes glinted devilishly as he taunted me. My blood ran cold. There was no way I was going to strip for my boss, the CEO.

She was narrating with her hands clasped between her legs, looking straight ahead, while slumped in the car seat. “If you were so good, how did you become a stripper?” “Can you wait? I’m telling my story, wasn’t I?” She snapped, rolling her eyes at the man. Sean shrugged and snapped his fingers, “Continue,” just like that, Maxine proceeded. “In college, I took Fine Arts, and Lottie took Psychology. We were still scholars then. But in our second year, the foundation’s new director told us we could already earn money for our tuition fees, so they canceled our scholarship.”

“Dylan is always like that, and I hate it that Beatrice seems to told them—” She looked up, “about my recent job? Well, your brother was right. I’m a stripper and a stripper like me will never be fated to be in love—to experience love. We’re just—” Andrius cupped her face and let her look at him. “Look, why do you need to bother with what they say? Why don’t you just show them and prove to them that it is wrong to judge you.”

"We're playing five-card draw. Basic poker. Nothing wild." "Boring," Traylie says. "Make it interesting." "How interesting?" Amanda asks. "Strip poker interesting." The room goes quiet for a beat. "I'm in," Amanda says, looking directly at me when she says it. My stomach flips. "Sure," I say, keeping my voice casual. "Why not." Renee looks between us with an expression I can't read. "Okay then. Strip poker it is. We each start with five items of clothing. Shoes count as one item together. Lose a hand, lose an item. First person naked buys breakfast tomorrow."

,I wipe at my angry tears. "Honey, he turns me to face him, I told you from day one to ask for help and I will help you. Your gram and her hospital bills must be why you decided to do stripping",I sniffle as more tears rush down my cheeks. I am in agony everyday because this life isn't what I pictured for myself.

After catching my husband, Jaxson Larkin, cheating on me for the third time, I end up developing aphasia. Out of guilt, Jaxson spends a month teaching me to communicate using "One" and "Two". "One" means yes, and "Two" means no. No matter what Jaxson says to me, as long as it involves Sasha Fuller, I only answer with "One". When he says Sasha is in poor health and wants to borrow the amulet that my mother left behind to bring me blessings, I answer "One" without hesitation. When he says he wants to postpone our wedding anniversary to celebrate Sasha's birthday, I reply with "One". Even when he brings a pregnant Sasha into our home, I still answer with "One". I even thoughtfully pack

I gasped between giggles. Red wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “It wasn’t really awkward. Like I said earlier, I strip for everyone, not just the men. And those ladies… they are mostly wild. Doing all kinds of things to our bodies…” I raised an eyebrow, still chuckling. “With that kind of body, who wouldn’t get carried away?” Red giggled and struck a playful pose. “We always have to stay in shape so we don’t lose our income. As a stripper, your body is your greatest asset.”

Today is Friday which means expensive VVIPs. See, I work as the most sought after stripper in the club during the night and in the morning, I am the hated nerd. I never wanted anyone to know what I do by this time of the day and allow the people that cannot stand me in daylight to salivate over what they can’t have.

If not, I’ll get kicked out! [Allison, my mom is pressuring me again. Can you buy some groceries for my family under my name? Thank you so much! I really don’t have any money!] [I'll post these photos online and make sure you never get married!] Leslie let out a bloodcurdling scream and scrambled to open her phone, desperate to send out the photos. I ignored her and swiped across my phone screen. In the next second, the display on the TV shifted—revealing a set of explicit photos. However, I had carefully censored the key areas with pixelation.

She would never be manipulated by this man again. Local newsrooms were a whirlwind of activity. Reporters were desperate for the biggest story, staff furiously typing to make headlines catchy and attention-grabbing. Suddenly, a staff member, out of breath and sweating profusely, rushed into the office. Everyone looked up, curious. "Arnold McIntosh has a new trending video," he announced, still catching his breath as he spoke to the chief.