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Confessions of a Stripper: How it all began.

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With the days of the Red Light District long gone, the back bone of the sexual atmosphere in the French Quarter is the Exotic Dancers who fill its numerous clubs. Over a hundred Ladies of all ages and back grounds work every night year around to entertain the tourists.

  Strung out and ready to do whatever they wanted.

Dawg soon came back and led us inside to the bar and walked away. The bartender was there sitting down our drinks, walking away he said, “Compliments of the house ladies.” Little did I know this would be the last time I would see Dawg that night. Turning around to scan the club, I was surprised to see a lady half-dressed dancing on the stage. The music was loud and I could barely hear Kitty when she asked me if I had ever danced before. Of course, I had danced, I thought, I took ballet and jazz as a kid. Not realizing what type of dancing she was talking about, I answered yes. Soon an older man came over and chatted with us. Trying to act like I knew what was going on; I laughed and played along with his flirting. When we finished our drinks he asked if we had ever eaten real Cajun food. “No”, I said. So off we were to eat.

At the restaurant, Mr. X ordered for us since we didn’t have a clue what the foods were on the menu. It all felt like a dream. Nothing seemed real. Here I was a nobody, from a nowhere town, and I was wining and dining at what I thought was the most expensive restraint in the world and drinking the best Champaign money could buy.

On our way back to the bar, Mr. X wanted to stop and buy us a dancing outfit. I explained how Dawg already got me the dress I was wearing. However, I was quickly told that was not the type of outfit he had in mind. In the store Mr. X looked us each over and told the lady behind the counter what to get for us. He was buying us bathing suits to go dancing in. I didn’t question what was about to happen.

Back at the bar he led us to his office and told us to get dressed. He pulled out a g string and said, “When you are out there never take this off”. He sat in the corner watching as we took off our clothes and put on the bathing suits. Mr. X inspected each of us and sent us on our way to pick out music. I was a bit tipsy when I tried to climb the stairs that lead to a DJ booth. The DJ asked our names and I made up Devin. Trying to yell over the loud music, he helped us pick out two songs and pointed to a table for us to sit at and wait for him to announce us onto the stage.

I wasn’t dumb nor was I naive. At this point in my life, I had seen a thing or two. However, looking back on it now, I don’t really think I grasped what was going on. I was along for the ride waiting to see where I would land.

When we were announced on stage Kitty took me by the hand and led me up. Trying to imitate the girl who danced before us, I tried a little bump and grind as I held on to the pole. Being a bit nervous, I did my best to look sexy. Before I knew it, Kitty turned me around and began to grind on me and rub her hand up my thigh. As the men whistled and tossed money on stage, Mr. X walked over with two one hundred dollar bills in his hand. After her put one in each of our G-strings, he taped me on the ass and said, “Get dressed ladies.” Once we to dressed, we were off to get his car.

Weaving through the streets of the city with the top down and the radio cranked up, my head was swimming. I am not sure if it was the alcohol or the excitement of the night. But I was having fun and I couldn’t wait to see what was next. After a while, we arrived at a large gated driveway. With a press of a button the gates opened. As we drove along the tree covered road the moon shined through the branches. He explained how this was an old plantation house that has been in his family for years. At the time I had no idea what a plantation house was, but it was the biggest house I had ever seen.

When we walked in the door, my mouth fell open looking around at the grand staircase and chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Mr. X opened a double door and led us into what he called his play room. It was had hard wood floors and oversized furniture. He turned on the music and went to the bar to pour us a drink. We sat at the bar and flirted and giggled for a while. At some point he put a white powder on the bar and with a rolled up hundred dollar he sucked the powder up into his nose. At the time I had no idea what the white powder was. Now I know it was cocaine. He cut out two more lines and offered us each one. Kitty quickly grabbed the homemade straw and snorted the whole thing with one try. I on the other hand, had a bit of a problem getting it to go up into my nose. It burned and it hurt. With a few snorts and a bunch of egging on, I was finally able to inhale it all.

Mr. X offered for us to join him in the hot tub, on the veranda as he called him. He pointed the way for us to find a changing area. We took off our clothes and put on our new bathing suites, wrapped up in the robes and headed out to the hot tub. Once outside, we heard Mr. X call and there he was getting into the hot tub totally naked. We walked over and climbed in. I had never been in a hot tub before. It was fun laughing and drinking and sniffing more white powder. The white powder made me feel different and not at all like myself. I didn’t worry about it; I just kept going with the flow.

That was the first night I slept with a women. Mr. X taught us how to do things I didn’t know people did. After passing out for most of the day, Mr. X woke us up with boxes of new clothes and shoes. “Get dressed ladies, I have friends coming over I want you to meet.” Mr. X told us as he cut out four more white lines. After getting dressed and doing the lines, we headed down stairs and in the party room were eight men standing around drinking and smoking cigars. Mr. X encouraged us to mingle and meet his friends. After drinks and more white lines most everything began to get fuzzy. However, I know those men did things to me that I did not barging for.

Looking back on it now I’m not sure how many days I stayed at Mr. X’s house or how many white lines he gave us. After a while he took us both back to the French Quarter and took us to a house. He blew the horn and Dawg opened the door. He told us to stay with Dawg and to be at the club by 7 and left.

With very little to say, Dawg pointed towards a bedroom and told us to put our stuff in there. Kitty and I hung out in there for what seemed like forever. With no clock in the room it was hard to tell what time it was. After a while, Dawg told us to get ready to head to club. We got dressed and curled our hair. Dawg remained us we were to be there at seven and it was time to leave. Out the door we went and down the street. After a short Trolley ride we were at Bourbon St.

Once we got to the club Dawg led us through the club and into the back. He pointed to a door and said he would be waiting for us.

Walking slowly through the door, the small room was crowded with ladies trying to get dressed and do their makeup. Kitty knew a few of the girls and seemed to fit right in. After a while, a knock at the door told us to hurry up. One of the girls helped me with my makeup and gave me a line to do before sending me out the door. As soon as I walked out Dawg led me to the DJ and told him what music to play for me. Standing against the wall Dawg began to explain that the girls walk around and talk to the men. He told me that I’m not to sit down unless someone buys me a drink. Also he explained that if I find a man to buy me a drink the waitress will tell me what to do. Hearing my name called, Dawg pushed me towards the stage.

Oh my gosh, what a disaster that first night was. I was awkward and didn’t know how to dance seductively. But for some unknown reason the men seemed to love it. After two songs, I imitated what I had seen the other girls do and walked around the room collecting dollars from everyone. Some gave, some didn’t. The night seemed to last forever as I talked and drank with the men. Some paid me twenty dollars to dance between their legs. By the end of the night I had made three hundred dollars. As the bartender counted out the cash I had made from selling drinks, he wrote in his book and said, “Ok, you owe the club four hundred dollars and you made…” I don’t remember what else was said. I was in shock that I owed the club, how could this be. In any event, I had money and if they wanted a little what would it hurt; plus it was not like I had a choice.

With fifty dollars in my pocket, Dawg walked us to the corner and we got into a cab that took us to a bar and grill. We had a few drinks, ate burgers, played pool, and meet a lot of other strippers from the French Quarter. It was like one big happy family. Everyone talked and laughed, stopping by each other’s tables to chit chat. They seemed like a fun group of people.

Little did I know, the happy carefree time we were having will soon to come to an end and the reality of my situation would set it?


More more more,! I have to admit- though I have my own story of addiction and sex trade work and I know how ugly that world is, through your teenage perspective Narrative it looks and sounds glamorous- and oh the feeling after all that work that you were expected to pay! I look forward to more installments.


I'm really enjoying your articles, looking forward to more.



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