Confessions of the Reluctant Stripper

By Jim. Atkisson

Help Wanted: Adults Wanted For Local Talent Agency

Requirements: Secure, Confident, Uninhibited, and Dependable

 

To be a successful stripper a person would need to be secure, confident, uninhibited, and dependable. It's no wonder why I never found success working inside of the G-string nation as a male stripper. Weekend after weekend, the phrase, "The stripper is here!!!" produced more fear and anxiety inside of me every time I knocked on a door.

 

Often I would ask myself on my way to perform a show, "How on earth, did I get here?" Growing up, my career ambitions were normal. At different points in my life, I considered careers in firefighting, law enforcement, and as an adventuresome cowboy. There were times in my life I did have the chance to wear the uniforms and the clothes of those careers; however, that's not what I had in mind while I patiently let girls use their teeth to insert cash down my G-string.

 

I lived the life of a rock star without all of the fame…or fortune. I attended parties in shady places, and I woke up in different beds intertwined with sweaty naked bodies. There were drugs, limos, strippers and fans. I was admired and hated by other men. I, also, knew some of the ladies I entertained went home to their husbands and boyfriends with one thing on their mind. These guys should have thanked me in the morning. Despite the girls, limo services, drugs, and quick cash, I dreaded every show offered to me. I was introverted, insecure, boring, and I suffered from any number of anxieties including, stage fright. After a time of homelessness, stripping afforded me a means to transition in life. When the opportunity presented itself, I jumped into the world of body oils, adult toys, chairs, and G-strings and became a Reluctant Stripper.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Bright Dog Publishing
• Release date: Sep 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215285008

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Growing up, I never imagined one day, I’d find myself standing on a stage performing for a livelihood.  I never imagined I’d find myself on a stage in front of hundreds of women eager to watch me undress, and stuff my pants with their money, but as a stripper, it was a part of the job.  I was a legend among men despite neither being rich, nor famous, but I lived the lifestyle of a rock star.

It wasn’t uncommon on any given night to receive marriage proposals or volunteers to carry my baby.  I came home with lipstick smeared both on my face, and just below my belt as more uninhibited women used their teeth to insert money down my pants, or G-string. I’ve been known to spend a lot of time in my own head, and it wasn’t uncommon as I drove to a show, I pondered over, and over this repeating question, "How did I get here?"

Growing up, I was painfully shy around girls, and I frequently broke out into a cold sweat if God forbid, one spoke to me.  I was afraid of my own shadow and I had an anemic social life.  I never went on dates, and I didn’t experience my first kiss until I was well into highschool.  It was so bad in my home, my father suspected I was in his own words, "A closet homosexual" because, he never saw me with a girl, and held a misguided assumption about my sexuality.  Girls never called the house.  I never mentioned them in conversation around my house.  I was rail thin like a scarecrow, last to be picked in gym class, and once held the title, "ugliest boy in highschool" thanks to a note taped to my school locker one afternoon.

I was acquainted with the social outcast’s lunch table and permanently banished there by the attractive, and popular kids.  I was forced to endure hours of sexual banter as the boys in the lockeroom regailed one another with their alleged exploits in, and out of the bedroom.  Listening to the other teenagers' salacious deeds it really caused me to question my own development, and believe not even seasoned adult film stars could hold a candle to them in the sack.

Despite my father’s hurtful comments and suspicions I knew my sexual orientation.  I liked girls, and I appreciated my personal taste in them, but I didn’t expect to experience "The Holy Grail of Lost Virginity" before my 30th birthday.

However, much to my surprise, I would often find myself in bed with women, and not die the virgin I assumed I would back in highschool. It became easy, routine, like getting in and out of a car and something I didn’t have to put much effort into. I knew I was experiencing moments I heard about in locker rooms and other men dreamed of.

More than once when I was performing, I would arrive at a house for a party and knock on the front door.  When someone opened the door, I would introduce myself. The person answering the door would ask if I could wait,and gently close the door for a moment.  Through the closed door, I could hear frantic voices scream, "Oh my god, the stripper’s here!" and at that point I could feel the energy through the door as the party went up by another level.

When I was growing up and whenever someone asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up, I never said, I would really like to be a stripper and work in adult entertainment.  I for the most part wanted to do the things most boys growing up in the 80s wanted to do.  I wanted to fly planes, fight crime, or fires, maybe work in construction, but the closest I ever came to any of these careers happened when I dressed up in one of these uniforms for a show as a stripper.  Unfortunately a near fatal suicide attempt as a teenager barred my entry into most of the careers I would be interested in as an adult.  I was fortunate to have survived, but I sustained significant amounts of trauma from the shooting and child abuse, and those scars would affect me long after the trauma was over.

Within a few months of graduating high