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Strip Club Manager

Here it is. Ten years later and I am applying for a position as an assistant manager at an establishment that features strippers. I had run the whole gambit of nightclubs from the upscale piano bar to the local punch palace. A punch palace is an unkind term for bars were fights are the main attraction.

I had grown tried of them all so it was time for a new challenge. This club was located in a major city in Florida and I had just moved in with a longtime lady friend at her invitation. I now had the residency requirement which is mandatory with many clubs and an impressive resume and references. I was interviewed on a Monday and got a call back that evening to see if I was available for second interview on Tuesday.

The Tuesday interview was much longer and afterwards I had to submit to the polygraph exam. I had just returned to my new residence when I received a call saying that I had passed the polygraph screening and that pending anything negative in my background check I had been hired. I was instructed to be there tomorrow morning for all the necessary paperwork and that I would start on Thursday night at 7:00pm.

Each club had its own way of doing things and layout. Like the club up North his club also featured a main stage and two auxiliary stages. Dancers did not go totally nude. They danced to three songs and removed their outer garments on the first and their bra and or gloves on the second. The third song allowed them to work the stage and receive tips from the patrons.

Being touched, stoked or caressed in any way shape or form was cause for immediate ejection and we had a bouncer that was built like a Sherman Tank that had no qualms about tossing trouble makers out. Of course the dancer had to say something and many times they didn't if they received a generous tip. During their breaks they were encouraged to work the floor and interact with the customers. 

"OK," said the training manager, now its time for the most unpleasant task of the Evening".

He knocked on the door of the dancers dressing room and announced in a loud voice that he was entering. I must have turned one hundred shades of red because the room held about ten dancers in various stages of undress seated at the long make-up table. They were not like the bored and pasty looking dancers up North, they were stunning even without their stage makeup.

I was introduced to them and he then held out a fist full of straws to the girls.

"You know the drill, short straw starts out on the main stage," he announced.

Each dancer stepped forward to draw a straw and the very pretty petite blond that drew second got the short straw and promptly let loose a torrent of four letter words ending with, "I don't ever start out on the main fuckin stage."

"Tonight you do."

We exited and I was informed that they would work out the rotation for the auxiliary stages on their own. After an hour of instruction we took a break and he covered some miscellaneous information.

"Now that there will be two of us we can rotate weekends, days and nights to give us some semblance of a social life. Now have only one other piece of advice that I hope you heed," he added.

"What's that?"

"Don't sleep with any of them."

"I only responded that I was not that adept at pick up ladies."

"Believe me they will approach you."


"You're now a boss and you can make their life easy or difficult, but if they find out that you are no better than the average customer they will lose all respect for you and you will have a hard time keeping them in line."

I gave him a puzzled look.

"Imagine going in for the drawing of the straws for opening dancer on the center stage? The girl that draws the short straw is the same young lady that warmed your bed last night and she doesn't want to start on the center stage. She will not be above reminding you of the gifts she departed on you and cajole you into changing it. How do you think the others will react?" 

Well sure enough on the first week I worked the day shift I was asked for a ride home by Melissa. Her car was in the shop and she didn't want to take the bus. As her apartment was on my way home I saw no harm in it. She then asked if I could stop at the local convenient store so she could grab a few things, I saw no harm in that either.

I held the door open for her and she called me a gentleman and I was rewarded with a big creamy smile. After her purchases were totaled she discovered she was five dollars short, I loaned her a five and received a kiss on the cheek in thanks along with her assurances she would repay me.

I held the opened the car door so she could enter with her packages and received another smile.

"Do you treat all the ladies this was? " she asked

"Yes, I dated a former fashion model and she helped me polish my image."

Upon reaching her apartment she invited me in for coffee, I declined saying I was tired. She offered me the use of her couch if I was too tired to drive home, I thanked her but again declined. She added if I didn't relish sleeping on the couch she had a king sized bed that I could have half of.

It was only the managers warning echoing in my head that prevented me from accepting all of her invites as Melissa was stunning beyond belief .She was the embodiment of my fantasies combined, but I managed to decline a third and final time.


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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