How I Became a Male Stripper

I am a male, 30-something, professional consultant who travels a lot for his work. I have over 22 years of education and more degrees than most people can count. I get paid over $250 per hour. The truth that I have just been dying to tell someone is that I am also a male stripper who utterly degrades himself nude in front of private parties of 8 to 25 women. I can't believe this myself so I won't blame you if you don't believe me at first, but please read on before you judge. I also have pictures from some parties but I am reluctant to show these except to ladies interested in my services because of my real job. Those ladies can contact me.

The only writing I have ever done is feasibility studies. I am certainly not a writer of erotic stories, but maybe because it is true the eroticism of my story will somehow come through. I am a Clark Kent type. My suit and briefcase hide a hard body forged by over 2 hours in the gym and running 5 days a week—and therein lay my dilemma. What was the point of being in such good shape when no one really was able to appreciate all my hard work? My life consisted of getting up at 6 am, then spending an hour and 15 minutes in the hotel gym, working all day, running 3 miles after work and then night after night in hotel rooms across the country and Europe sitting alone watching TV

Before traveling I used to go to Yahoo personals and see if any eligible ladies in the area I was headed to were looking for a fling. I was always serious but the girls never were and it never came to anything but a bunch of cyber nonsense. Then about three years ago I spotted an ad in the "women looking for men" section asking for a male stripper for a bachelorette party in an area in which I was scheduled to work at that time. I passed over the ad at first but in the gym the next morning I looked in a mirror and said to myself, "Who the hell is ever going to see this body before you turn 60 and it disappears? " So I went back to the room and answered the ad.

There was a lot of competition for the position and one thing that drives me is competition. The organizer wanted nude pictures so I set my digital on timer and posed. To beat the competition I agreed to stay all evening, to strip nude, and to serve drinks to the girls as a nude waiter. I invented party games like pin the tail on the male. A game just like pin the tail on the donkey but the blindfolded girls were to put condoms on my erect cock instead of pinning a tail to a picture of a donkey. The organizer obviously knew she had a live one and really pushed the envelope.

It started out mild ("Will you let the girls touch you?") and soon go wilder (How about jerking off for us?"). I agreed to everything. At first it was more about winning. I wanted that job more than any "real job" I was bidding on. In a bidding war with another stripper I agreed to work just for tips—no up front money at all. I won the job.

As the day approached I could not believe how excited I became. The idea of stripping for about 20 women absolutely consumed me. I was pretty sure in the end I would chicken out, but it was so exciting just thinking about it that I had to fight to stay focused on work. On the appointed day I stood nude in front of the mirror for about 10 minutes with my g-string, butler bow tie and white wrist cuffs in my hand convinced this was just an exercise in fantasy, but then as I stared at my cock in the mirror it got rock hard and began to pulse and bounce with the blood that was rushing into it. I became hypnotized. My muscles bulged and my higher intelligence (whatever that was) just disappeared. I no longer saw myself as a person but instead as a piece of meat in the mirror.

As I fell deeper into this trance I watched myself putting on my stripper outfit, tight jeans and muscle shirt. My cock had complete control of me now. It was running my body. My brain felt so saturated with sex hormones it felt like a sponge dripping with testosterone. I still find even today that I go into this same trance before every performance. I feel like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. I know that my dignity is about to be trampled and yet I am somehow mesmerized by the means of its oncoming destruction.

Like a robot I drove to the all-suite hotel where the organizer had rented a suite for the party. Once I parked and did not have to focus on driving , my vision narrowed and became foggy. I moved very slowly in a daze to the hotel clerk and could not believe the voice that asked to be sent to the organizer's room. I sounded like some dumb hunk who was barely literate.

I knocked on the door and blurted out—"it's the entertainment" in that dumb hunk voice that was about an octave lower and about three times slower than my normal voice. There was some giggling inside and the organizer came to the door. She was talking on a cell phone which she held in one hand. She introduced herself and then quickly grabbed my belt with the other hand and dragged me over to the bedroom and pushed me in. "The bride's late, she said, "wait in here." She then shut the door and left me standing alone in a dark

The girls had put their presents and coats on the bed and I just stood there in the dark like one of the presents—an inanimate object waiting to be unwrapped. I could hear the sounds of conversation and giggling in the other room then finally a knock on the outer door to the suite and squeals and greetings. The bride had arrived.

After a few minutes, the organizer switched the music to a CD I had brought with me, and made some kind of announcement which I could not hear over the music. Then she came into the bedroom, moved right by me as if I weren't there and swatted my ass from behind and said "You're on honey.". As I strode confidently into the living room my cock was commanding me "Let's put this 167 pounds of meat on display for these ladies" and I began to strip. By the end of the first song my shirt was off and my jeans unbuckled and half open. When the jeans came off I was dancing in my butler g-string with an even smaller American flag g-string underneath. After a short while one of the girls squealed and pointed at me and said something to the girl next to her. The second girl covered her wide open mouth and started moving her head up and down like she was saying "yes" to something.

The first girl just kept pointing and so finally I looked down and saw that my cock was so swollen that the head was sticking way out over the top of both g-strings. I tried to stuff it back in but it just popped out the side and a few of the girls began laughing at my plight, slapping their knees and bobbing up and down in their chairs. A gal in the corner called out "Come over here baby". My field of vision had become so narrow in my hypnotic state that I had not even seen her before. She had a video camera, but was tethered to an electrical socket by a cord and could not move (apparently the batteries were dead.). My cock still hanging out I obediently danced over to her corner. She was saying things like "Can you believe this? He's falling out of his outfit!" as if I were not even there. Apparently these comments were directed to the future viewers of the film. Then she gave me orders like, "Show us what you got baby!" I found I had no ability to disobey anything that any girl asked. I obediently pulled down the front of both my g-strings and slung my 71/2 inch cock around like a cowboy swinging a rope. "Now turn around slow and let's see your butt" she shouted, and I turned around slowly with my hands in the air and danced with my thronged ass to the camera for a while and then slowly moved back into the center of the room.

I quickly yanked the butler g-string down to my ankles and a group of girls directly in front of me let out a yell and a few camera flashes went off. About 3 or 4 girls turned around and headed into the little kitchen area. Then one girl said "Oh look he's got a tiny one on underneath!" And the girls in the kitchen came back in.

By now some girls were yelling the familiar chant "take it off, take it off" in between nervous laughs. I hopped up on a chair and then onto a table top and removed the last g-string and began slinging my cock all over the place by gyrating my hips. The head of my cock slapped up into my stomach and then down on my right thigh and then up to my belly button again and then over to the left side. I turned around slowly on the table top so that all the girls in the room could see from every angle. The "prude contingent" of about 4 gals beat a hasty retreat into the kitchen area as I turned toward them, but the rest pointed and yelped.

As the music CD I had brought ended, the organizer announced that I would now be taking drink orders (just as she and I had planned in advance). I picked up the pad from the hotel desk and headed over to each girl standing nude in front of them and bouncing my cock up and down while I waited for them to decide on their orders. Then I picked up a tray from the kitchen area (much to the chagrin of the prude contingent) and held it just below waist level. I plopped my cock on it along with a few beers which I then brought around to each girl that had ordered one. Standing on my tip toes I held the tray up to each girl who ordered a beer, offering her both a beer and my cock laid out on the tray like a fat hot dog. I even got a few comments like , "where's the mustard?". I amazed myself with all of the new ways I was devising to degrade myself for the amusement of these women. Next I put the rum, vodka and mixers on the tray (along with my cock) and had each girl hold the tray as I mixed their drink using my cock as the swizzle stick.

Next we moved into pin the tail on the male, the game I had described earlier. All of the girls who had been interested in handling me, but had so far been too shy, now had the perfect excuse. The organizer posed me in several compromising positions all over the room and the blindfolded girl had to find me with help from her teammates and then feel over my body until she found my cock. This sometimes took longer than was really necessary. Then she had to hold my cock firmly while rolling the condom down the shaft. When the condom was unrolled onto my cock the timer stopped and that was her score.

The girls played several rounds before moving on to the next game. In this game the girls held out plastic rings anywhere they wanted and I had to "fetch" them by spearing them through the center using only my hard cock—no hands. You can imagine where some of the gals put their rings! Once I had the ring on my cock I had to dance for the girl for one complete song without dropping it from my cock. If I dropped it the girl got to dream up a "penalty" for me. One of these penalties included sending me nude out into hotel hallway to get ice, and then another had me turn around and bend over so she could use the top of a pen to push the round tube shaped ice cubes way up my ass—you should have seen me jump around and squeal for that one—that is quite a sensation! Many of the other penalties were equally "inventive" and made for some great photos for the girls.

After several games I presented the gifts to the bride in a clever ceremony we had devised. Although it was quite involved, basically the organizer used the ribbon on the present or the handles of the gift bag to dangle each gift from my cock. I would then have to walk in from the bedroom to the bride seated in the living room keeping the gift from falling while walking with my legs spread apart like John Wayne just getting off a horse. The bride would then pluck the gift from my cock and replace it with a small garbage bag in which she would then deposit the wrappings making sure my cock bounced up and down as she did it. All the time I just stood there while the girls made fun of me and took pictures.

After this "presentation" of the gifts, serving some more rounds of drinks and a couple more games, it was time for the "grand finale." I was to dance and masturbate for the ladies' amusement. The organizer surprised me by wrapping a rubber band tightly around the base of my cock several times to keep me from cumming too quickly. She also surprised me by ordering me to put my hands behind my back and tying them there. I was now to dance in front of each girl who would take turns stroking my cock. Bets were placed on how far I would shoot and the girls were all looking at me from behind cameras which were flashing away as I danced thrusting my cock in and out of the girl's hand who I was dancing for.

After a while I could not stand up any longer so they had me kneel on the coffee table facing the door. Then the girls formed a line behind me and each girl took a turn stroking me. Some girls made comments such as, "You like that don't you" and they would demand that I answer them. Others mimicked the moaning noises I was making. . "I wish you could see yourself" one of them said, "You look like an animal in heat."

Then I felt a hand push the back of my head down and spread my legs apart while tilting my ass up slightly. This was followed a sharp shooting sensation of a greased object being shoved up my ass. They then began stroking something the object in an out of my ass. In this position I could now see my balls dangling between my legs bouncing as the girls were stroking my cock. They had become huge and painfully swollen red, black and blue orbs.

I felt myself cumming several times but I could not shoot through the rubber bands wrapped tightly on the base of my cock so the cum just shot backward hard into my balls and made me scream quite loudly in a strange combination of pain and pleasure, but mostly pain. The girls always got quite a kick out of it. Some of the prude contingent walked out of the party at this point opening the door momentarily to the hall as they left. I could not really see much past the door given what I was going through and I doubt anyone passed by just as those girls left, but anyone who did would have seen quite an eyeful.

When I finally did cum and was able to shoot through the rubber bands I was told by some of the girls my cum hit the door about 5 or 6 feet away . I guess it's like holding your finger in a garden hose to make the water shoot out further.

Since then I have been completely addicted to stripping for women. I enjoy planning for parties with the organizers as much as doing them. I travel all over the USA and the UK so odds are I can get to your area with enough planning. Serious planners can have pictures of some of my shows if you want to see photos of some of my parties.

Signed— Rod your male stripper.