therealprettyboygirl

The Pearl Necklace

I spent a month going back and forth, attempting to reclaim my Tryst account after it was hacked. The irony was that it was hacked not even a day after it was released from the account approval process. I’d sent in a picture of myself holding a piece of paper with my account details and a simple “I affirm that this information is true.” That picture was rejected because my arms were not e...

The Goddess Closet

Imani produced a U-shaped clit-sucker/dildo.

“Do you want to play with our toy? Meredith can show you how to use it.”

I didn’t assume that the toy was dirty or infected—one of the requisites for entry into the sex party was a full STI panel—but I did remember a story a friend told me about giving an entire lesbian orgy bacterial vaginosis from an unwa...

You've done molly before?

The couple led me into the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of orange juice from a little lunchbox. Were they just mad for mimosas? I wasn’t sure. They poured me a glass and I sipped it, expecting to taste champagne bubbles, but couldn’t taste anything. Maybe it was full of secret sweet booze? I finished the glass in two sips.

“What’s your name?” the woman asked me.

the Eyes Wide Shut energy

A petite Black man with fresh cornrows grabbed a microphone, “Everyone! Excuse me, can everyone gather ‘round! We’re about to start.”

The crowd meandered into the living room. V and I took a corner, a safe distance away from whatever was about to happen. Earlier, we had noticed a middle aged black man in a dusty blue colored pinstripe zoot suit with long tails that brus...

Orgy at the McMansion

I’m going to start this, my first post in my 3rd decade around the sun, by sharing more information about psychology. My cousin asked me how therapists view the DSM-V, which is the manual we use in the US to diagnose clients with mental disorders. There has been no lack of controversy around the concept of mental “disorders” or “illnesses”. Firstly, there is no cross cultural agreemen...

You Won’t Break My Hooole

Grief.

It seems to be the only thing knocking around in my head this week. Between tearful episodes, I’ve been doing my darndest to stay productive like the little robotic pawn of capitalism I must be to survive. But lord, is it hard. This is one of those moments when the best move is to blast Beyoncé and try to tap into the resilience songs like BREAK MY SOUL offer. I will say though ...

broken promises made by horny, smitten men

I am turning 30 in less than two weeks. My birthday is Oct 25. For the first time in many years, I am throwing myself a party. For femmes, the big three-oh is a complicated occasion to celebrate. It marks the great departure from that bright, potential-filled period of being in your twenties. I’m sure it will hit me at some point, but I have been lucky enough not to see this turning point as ...

Maybe Pole Dance Is Just For Strippers

Years ago, I had a meaningful friendship with a white woman with dreadlocks. This wasn’t “back in the day” before I had my first lesson about systemic racism. It wasn’t before I understood the degree of violence Black people have faced due to wearing traditional hairstyles. This was in the middle of the first round of Black Lives Matter protests–in the wake of the murders of Trayvon M...

Part III The Mother-In-Law

Before we could go any further, Axel knocked on the door.

“Selena! Time’s up, sweetheart. Let me know if you two wanna continue.”

As I’d predicted, Axel did not open the door. He remained on the other side, maintaining Jamie’s precious discretion. I didn’t know whether or not Jamie had enjoyed our time together. I glanced over at him—his pants wer...

no one spreads dirt on me like I do

“It’s crazy here,” he said, leaning his head to get a full view of the club. His eyes shot up to the camera above us, “I bet they’re broadcasting us right now.”

I looked up at the blinking red light of the security camera, winking at me from its corner. While it seemed like a very risky concept from the standpoint of a million and one liability issues, I couldn’t say the ide...

I’m more than happy to enable you

I’m in the thick of my journey toward becoming a psychotherapist, reading nonstop about the many different theoretical frameworks I could choose to operate from as part of my future practice. Hater that I am, I was immediately put off by the behavioral/cognitive therapeutic techniques due to their insistence upon “empirically validated” approaches. I do not trust the system. I do not trus...

Part 2. A Threesome To Remember

I forgot to mention that there would be a Part 2 to this story! I am fighting my way through midterm preparation. As always, thank you for your support! Especially now as I try to balance school and work, your support makes a significant difference in my ability to support myself and the people I take care of. Thank you thank you thank you.

***

“Ro...

Are You Ready To Spoil Me, Daddy?

It all started with Rose. It was like a light switched on, and my heart fluttered. From Rose, it grew. Interactions I’d confused with competition transformed into occasions of intrigue. I saw a new dancer standing on the back stage, staring at herself through the one way mirror which enclosed the half hour suites. I wasn’t sure if she had her camera out and was making TikToks, or if she was...

Hurt Me

Longshoreman, Matt, bought an hour room with me after trying his hardest to avoid the purchase. We’d gone back and forth over text as he drove out to the club. He wanted to meet at a hotel so that he could avoid having to pay the club split. I wanted him to boost my bottomline to help me maintain good standing as I heard whispers of layoffs. Apparently, dancers who did not recoup minimum wage...

Making A Deal With God To Swap Places

I’ve spoken a lot about jealousy over the past few months–my own jealousy, the jealousy of partners, even jealous clients. Jealousy can creep into all sorts of relationships, even monogamous ones. It can be a particularly acute, recurring reaction when you love a sex worker. Our lovers do all sorts of mental gymnastics to support us as we perform intimate labor, but sometimes the mental gym...

A Charming Prince

It’s hard not to be distracted by the Supreme Court’s ruling on Roe. I have more of a right to privacy in purchasing an arsenal of firearms than I do to decide what goes on in my body. But is this new for Black folk? I think we inherit some residual body memories of chattel slavery—of our ancestors shipped, sold, forced to mate to produce more workers to build America. We have relatives e...

My 61-Year-Old Single Father Teaches Us How To Find Love (In A Hopeless Place)

On Monday morning at 8a, I will enroll in my first set of grad school classes, officially beginning my journey toward becoming a licensed psychotherapist. This date, and July 11, the official start date for classes, have loomed ominously in the background over the past few months, as I’ve juggled the many things that I do. I’ve always expected to go to grad school, but I hadn’t the fainte...

The Star Garden Picket Line

I’ve told a wide array of people about the protest at Star Garden: strippers at my club, customers, even a handful of bouncers who have surprisingly taken an interest. One of the main questions I get is, “What makes Star Garden worse than any other club?” The premise of this question is that strip clubs are essentially fine: they’re not great, but what do you expect? It speaks to a broa...

Mike Rowe Does A Dirty Jobs Episode About Stripping

EXTERIOR TWILIGHT

Mike Rowe stands beside an SUV parked in front of a large, maroon, windowless building, clad in his usual “working man” attire.

“Today, I’m going undercover to perform one of the dirtiest jobs, both literally and figuratively.” He pulls out a duffle bag “Betcha can’t guess what it is.”

Mike shuts ...

The Relationship Escalator

I injured my right knee at some point, although when exactly, I can’t say. It started hurting after a particularly chilly night at the picket, one in which I’d worn the wrong footwear and took turns favoring one foot and then the other. I shivered as the cold cut straight to the bone. When I got home, the chill stuck to me, particularly my right knee. As the rest of me thawed, my knee remai...

Pt. 2: Pay Me To Drink My Tears

If I hadn’t needed to work to earn money, I probably would have stayed home and wallowed in the dampness of grief. In a way, it was good for me to get out and have some sense of purpose–to have to do my hair and shower. Revenge continued lurking in the back of my mind, even though I hardly felt entitled to it. I wanted to fuck people, not out of joy, but instead as a destructive expression ...

Part 1: Selena the _____?

Have you ever encountered a moment where you looked in the mirror and felt like a stranger? It’s easy to take for granted the multitude of minute changes that happen so gradually they’re imperceptible. I looked down at my breasts and noticed an array of freckles, hairs and moles I hadn’t noticed before. I rediscovered details of the body I inhabit, my body, the one I’ve always had and a...

Which Customers Should I Talk To?

“I bet you always get what you want,” Roger said with the playful glee of a child chiding their crush.

I spend a lot of time answering questions with smiles or some other non-verbal form of communication that neither confirms nor denies either answer. I could tell that Roger genuinely believed I had no problem coaxing whatever I might want from any poor sucker, himself incl...

Sex Work and Disability: A Quick Guide

Sex work and disability often go hand in hand, and yet I haven’t found many guides for people working in the sex industry while navigating disability. I’ve been trying to figure out where I fit on the disability spectrum. While I am mostly physically able, I do have periods where I am physically unable to perform sex work. PMDD is both a mental and physical disability that is technically co...

Tips for Baby Strippers

I know I shouldn’t apologize for breaks in productivity because I am not in fact a robot, but I still feel a bit of guilt for taking an impromptu week off from Patreon. I’ve been mentally occupied with relentlessly editing my grad school admissions essay and preparing for a talk I just gave to the adorable baby angels at Pomona College’s Women’s Union. Aside from that, there’s work, S...

The Many Lives We’ve Lived Together

Actually, let me backtrack a bit. It’s hard to keep track of the exact sequence of events when Danny is involved. Before I helped him find his own party favors, I took him for a half hour room. He hadn’t brought enough cash, impulsive visit that this was, so he was forced to eat the 17% surcharge for running his credit card. I watched him whisper into Axel’s ear as I waited for the transa...

Star Garden Dancer Petition

I wanted to share this truly inspiring petition. I hope more strippers will be emboldened to take action seeing this brave display of power.

Oh no, you’re going to write about me, aren’t you?

Hi everyone,

It has been a very eventful week. The strippers at Star Garden are picketing, advocating for a safe workplace, and Strippers United has been providing auxiliary support. I will share their petition for those interested in a separate post. I suggest you read their demands. They are not outlandish by any stretch, and yet their club has locked out the dancers who sig...

A Self-Doubting Whore

TW: Rape, PTSD, Trauma Dumping

I hadn’t realized I had childhood PTSD until last weekend. The revelation came after a particularly dark conversation with Liberty. I’ve been quite private about what I’ve been up to lately with regards to my “transition” away from full-time sex work. I don’t intend to fully transition out for several years, however the process of swit...

Hostile Work Environment Tings

While I’m not old in general, and I’m not super old on the spectrum of people stripping, and customers continue picking up what I’m putting down, I still have this nagging fear that I’m aging out. Of course, there are numerous jobs one can work within the sex profession that pay well and assure longevity, but in the back of my head, there is a shameful little whisper telling me that I�...