Hostess at Ladies Night

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I knew it was a weird, daring idea. I just couldn’t have anticipated how this would go down. I’ve always been wanting to try new things, and from all those moments, I picked the least predictable adventure to actually pursue.

My obsession with the idea started already months before I went on and did it. I was becoming addicted to watching anything that had strippers, escorts, street prostitutes, porn stars, every edgy sex related profession went by on my TV or laptop screen. At first I didn’t know why I was obsessed by all these things. I mean, sure, it was just so different from any other job, which is why most people find it interesting. But there was something more to it. The attention that these girls would get. Attention not for who they were as a person, but really only for what they looked like.

It wasn’t so clear to me then that this was all about objectification, even in the way I lived out my fantasy, although I had an idea. But to actually feel it, to experience what that really is like, I had to go on a little adventure. Which I did.

For hours I browsed through websites of strip clubs in the city I live in, or even in neighboring cities. Initially just to look at some pictures, to have some idea of the inside of such a club. The stages, the stripper poles, the VIP booths, even the private rooms in some cases. But soon enough, I would also take notice of any job openings for these clubs.

Almost every one of them had job openings. They were targeting mostly students to make an extra buck. And yes, of course you had to be “presentable”, they’d ask your exact sizes even in the form you could use to apply, and it was required to send one or more “representative photos” usually. Of course I knew what that meant, it made perfect sense. And, dancing experience was a plus, although not always required, I found.

My thoughts would wander off, and I would imagine myself to be on a stage, dancing around and against a stripper pole, tens of guys watching me as I’d get undressed, showing off my almost nude, and with time, even nude body. It strangely aroused me, and I found myself masturbating to this idea more often than I would ever dare to admit. It became a downright obsession.

Of course, I wouldn’t actually go through with that. Getting naked in front of a bunch of guys? I wasn’t some kind of slut. In reality, that would probably be scary and gross, people would be treating me harshly, and it wouldn’t at all be as arousing as it would be in my fantasies. So, just a fantasy then. A fantasy that would present itself over and over, and which wouldn’t go away for months. It started to even get frustrating, to have this one particular image not leaving my mind for months.

Then, on one of the Twitter feeds for the clubs I was following by then, something caught my eye. The Stiletto tweeted “Tonight is ladies night again, all you single or married ladies come enjoy the view!” At first, I was confused. The club wasn’t known to have male strippers. Not usually anyway. I checked out their website more thoroughly than I did last time, and there it was, under Theme Nights.

It turned out that Ladies Night was held every first Tuesday of the month, and it was promoted as an event where women could visit a strip club safely, without having to feel embarrassed about doing so. Whether it was to explore their bisexual side, or having a bachelors party, or simply ‘just to enjoy the feel and sight of our pretty hostesses’, as the website read.

Wait, what? Hostesses, meaning strippers? But then, “feel”? The idea stuck with me, my fantasies ran wild, and I couldn’t let go of it anymore. It became too much, and I just had to go find everything there was to know about it.

The phone was answered with a guy answering a simple “Yes?”.

“Hi. I’m, uh, I have a question about ladies night?”


“Yes, um… well I was just wondering… on the website of your club, it says, uh, to enjoy the feel and sight… and I was just wondering, what that, uh…”

“Oh so you’re curious about the girls huh? Well it means what it says, you can look at em nude, touch their tits and pussies, all for the right price of course.”

I was blushing like crazy, even though he used language only guys would, I thought, and there was an undeniable tickle between my legs.

“Oh I see, so…” I had to swallow my nerves. “…but no sex, right?”

“Well, no, if you want sex you can come at one of the regular nights, a few of them are bi. Some might do a little extra on ladies night, but that’s really up to the girl, so you can’t expect it.”

“Oh yes I see.”

“Well, if you’re interested, you’re welcome to join of course. Entrance is 20 bucks, including one drink and excluding any stuff on the menu.”

Little did I know then what menu he was talking about.

“Aha. Well uh… actually, well I was wondering, if you need any more girls for that night.”

The guy remained quiet for a few seconds.

“Ohh, you’re looking for a job? Sorry, I didn’t get that.”

“Well, sex izle no, I mean yeah, but only for this ladies night.”

There was another short silence at the other end.

“Give me a moment,” the guy said.

There was about half a minute of silence, after which I heard a female voice.



“OK, so I hear you want a job only at ladies night? Is this like a jealous boyfriend thing?”

“Well…” and then I realised this might be an easy way out of a hard discussion, getting to avoid the real answer here. “Yeah that’s pretty much it. But if possible, I’d like to just try it for a night, and then if it goes well, I can come more often.”

“You mean every month.”

“Uh yeah, I mean as long as it’s just on the ladies…”

“Yeah it’s every month,” she cut me off, as if she wanted to get straight to business and not waste time. She continued after a small pause. “Tell you what. You apply through our contact form on the website, send a few pictures where I can see you well enough, and then put in the comments in the form that you want ladies night only, so I’ll know it’s you. Okay?”

I was blushing. This was going to become very real. I’d apply for one of those… erotic jobs, like officially becoming an employee.

“Yes, sure, perfect,” I answered.

“OK then, I’ll hear from you, OK? OK, bye,” she responded as if somewhat in a hurry. She was probably busy with something.

While I could feel the adrenaline rush of it all already, I then sat down and filled in the form on their website, basically asking for a job. This felt so weird. In order to get my little adventure, I was actually applying for a job.

They didn’t expect any motivation to be filled in; just my sizes, ethnicity, hair color, space for a few photos, a comments section, contact information, and, something I had to get my mind around – a stage name. I put in Crystal as a stage name, just like I saw in one of the documentaries that I watched, and I was already getting absorbed in my fantasies yet again. Fantasies of being Crystal.

A cute selfie and a photo of me in a bikini while on vacation was what I hoped to convince them with. Hitting “Send” had never been such a nerve wrecking moment.

Even within an hour, I received a short reply. “Hi Crystal,” it read. Right away, my so called stage name was used. “I think you could be a good fit for our club. Attached are some rules, regulations and details about your salary. If you could drop by somewhere in the early afternoon tomorrow to meet you face to face, I’ll give you a quick tour of the club, and if we’re both still happy about it, you can start next Tuesday on our monthly ladies night.”

I opened the attached document, which was short, rather simple, even somewhat amateuristic, you could say. But it was clear enough, and probably even legal. A base salary of 150 dollars, and per ‘customer’ I’d get to keep 40 percent of the money. Customers! It sounded so… I mean, it sounded almost as if I was going to be an actual hooker. I had no idea what I’d make with ‘customers’ but soon enough I replied that I was going to be there in the beginning of the afternoon.

I looked up the club’s location on Google Maps, and tried to figure out what it looked like from the outside by using Google Street View, but all I could see was a large metal door and a turned off neon sign that said ‘The Stiletto’ in the blurry photograph. The Google Car must have been there in the early hours, when they weren’t open.

While dressed casually, I tried to look my best when I finally left to visit the club. It took about 20 minutes by metro to get there, after which I had to walk for another 10 minutes before I could find the exact same door that I had seen on Google.

Next to it was a small intercom, and I pressed the button right at the bottom of it.

“Hello?” I soon heard a somewhat raspy voice, which sounded remotely like Jen’s voice.

“Hi, it’s Crystal.”

I hesitated for a few seconds, as I just realized that I used my stage name, and it felt as if I now could be found out by passersby somehow, which was a ridiculous thought. I was just going to start to explain how I was having an appointment here, while I could already hear the buzzer for the door.

I pushed against the metal door, after which my eyes had to get used to the dimmed red light inside, contrasting with the bright light outside.

I stepped inside, and ended up in a hallway with an empty wardrobe behind a counter, which I figured was usually the entrance of the club during opening hours.

Just in front of the counter stood a woman, dressed in a knee length black skirt, high heeled boots and a sexy, partly unbuttoned black blouse.

She looked as if she was in her fifties or maybe even sixties, her face wrinkled, but her big blue eyes outstandingly sharp. She wore an excessive amount of jewelry.

“Hi I’m Jennifer, the girls call me Jen,” she introduced herself while she extended her sikiş izle hand.

She sounded almost as if introducing herself like that would be a bit of a routine, as if she was introducing herself the whole day. “The girls” was what gave me a slightly nervous tremble. It was as if she already considered me to be one of the girls.

“I’m Samantha,” I introduced myself while shaking her hand, “or Crystal,” I added with a slight grin.

“Yeah we only use stage names here, to avoid mistakes. Your real name is only for the books,” she promptly corrected me, without the slightest smile.

“Got it,” I nodded.

Then, before I realized what happened, she grabbed my upper arm, and pulled me slightly, very clearly as a hint that I should turn, which I did. She held me like that for a few seconds without saying anything.

The next moment, she did something that made me blush even more than I was doing by then. She let go of my arm, but reached to the hem of my jeans, and without any warning, she hooked her finger through the belt loop and simply pulled up the jeans, making them wrap tightly around my butt. Then after yet another few seconds, she let go of it, leaving me blushing deeply, which fortunately wasn’t noticeable in the dim light.

She didn’t make any comment. Or rather, she complimented me indirectly.

“Sure you don’t want to work regular nights as well?” she asked, while finally, more gently now, she grabbed my upper arm again and simply turned me to face her again.

I didn’t know what to answer just yet.

“I guess first I’ll have to see how this goes,” I gave her an indefinite answer.

Something told me that I had to be in her good graces. Seemingly slightly unsatisfied with my answer, she let go of my arm finally, with a slight nod. There were so many new sensations to feel in only this initial reaction. The way she looked at me, the way she treated me. The way she, without words, made sure she could check out my figure. I guessed that if I was to work here, I should at least be able to stand this sort of treatment. But to my embarrassing surprise, it excited me more than it scared me. Even though it was scary as hell.

The rest of the visit went well. I could notice Jen carefully observing my body at times while we walked around. She made it no secret, either. At some point she pointed at my sneakers.

“You can walk in heels, right?” she pointed at a large row of extremely high looking heels in the dressing room we arrived at, in a number of different sizes.

“Sure, no problem,” I nodded, as I made sure not to seem a bit intimidated by how extremely high they were looking.

“It’s easier than it looks like if you can walk on regular heels already,” she mentioned, as if she could read my mind. “Have you done any sex work before?” she asked even casually as we made our way to the club area, in between a long bar with stools, and an area with mostly small tables and booths in the back.

“Not really,” I answered honestly.

“Stripping?” she continued to investigate.

“Nope… first time,” I answered with a slight smile.

She shrugged. “Well, it’s not like taking your clothes off is very hard of course, so that shouldn’t be a problem. You just get undressed, except you do it slower, they want to see you do it” she said almost with a bit of shallowness in her voice.

Her voice almost sounded a bit bored as we went upstairs, where there were apparently private rooms for… well, sex.

“This is more for the regular days, but ladies night isn’t really about that, so you’ll probably not be here,” she mentioned casually as she opened one of the rooms with dark red interior, large mirrors, a box of condoms on a table, a large bed without any pillow or blankets.

I was intrigued by it, but mostly because it looked so very real, so like what I had seen in some documentaries. It was even a bit scary to actually see this with my own eyes.

“You can use the rooms though, I mean, the money can be good. If you change your mind,” she added, leaving my head spinning for yet another minute.

As we then finally concluded the tour, she turned to face me and looked into my eyes directly with her sharp blue eyes.

“So, I think you’ll do just fine with a body like that,” she briefly moved her finger up and down from head to toe, “Just realise that you’re here to make money, this is a business, we expect to make money, and you won’t be an exception to the other girls, even though you only do women. We have expectations, and so have our customers, so no funny stuff or drama,” she added very seriously while almost sounding quite strict.

This was probably the attitude needed to manage a place like this. I wondered what her background was. What she did before she did this. I almost felt a bit intimidated while she laid out the situation like that, and kept nodding in agreement.

“No no, sure, I’m easy going.”

“Yeah, easy going is good, and your body is 80 percent of the work türk porno anyway, so you’ll be fine.” she went on. “Just wiggle your ass, smile, anticipate on any hint that a customer gives you to come to them, because they’re where the money is.”

I nodded casually, even though all this information was, even though it sounded simple, downright overwhelming.

She paused while looking into my eyes. Or at my face, as it turned out.

“You have an innocent face. Women like that. Women go for young and innocent,” she assured me.

I didn’t know if I should thank her for the compliment.

“Alright then, well, if you would just sign here, we’ll see you in a lot less clothes next Tuesday,” she said with a slight grin after she got a contract from her desk, and I laughed a bit as I felt yet another blush crawling to my cheeks.

“This contract is the only thing that will have your real name on it, otherwise everyone will know you by your stage name. We like to keep things discrete here, I’m sure you’ll appreciate that. So don’t introduce myself using your real name ever,” she emphasized yet again.

I nodded while quickly going through the papers, full of boring employee/employer agreements.

“I appreciate that,” I smiled as I handed her back the signed papers.

“Oh, you can bring your own clothes, but we also have plenty for you to wear, and usually on first nights I help the new girls with their outfit so they’ll fit right in, so you don’t really need to bring anything.”

I nodded again, and I already started wondering what she’d have me wear that night. She pointed at my crotch.

“Down there you can be either smooth or trimmed, so no bushes or anything like that. We’re not some fetish club,” she said bluntly.

“Sure, got it,” I responded with a nod, and imagining that I’d trim my small, sexy strip even more carefully than usual.

“So, see you on Tuesday,” she lead me to the exit rather quickly, and opened the door for me to walk out, as she seemed in a bit of a rush.

The next few days I hardly thought about anything else. I think I could recite their website from the top of my head, I watched even more documentaries, and I already started to feel as if I was one of them. One of the girls in the sex industry.

Of course I’d just be a hostess, but I pretty well remember what the guy on the phone said, and I think you could say that it would be even a level up from being a stripper. I would strip, if I knew how to pole dance. I couldn’t even imagine how long it would take to learn how to do that. So this was the next best thing, in a way. Jen made it sound as if this job was easy, and I tried really hard to believe her.

Finally, Tuesday had begun, after a night of hardly any sleep. It was a day full of grooming.

Lying on a sunbed in a spa near me for another while, making sure I’d be smooth like a baby, except my blonde little landing strip which I’d trim neatly. My nails, my blonde long hair, everything had to look perfect.

I almost already felt like a showgirl when I then took the subway to the area of the city where the club was, some 45 minutes from my place. Dressed in just regular jeans and blouse, leather jacket and sneakers, and hardly wearing any makeup yet, I wouldn’t stand out in the crowd at all. It was just the idea of being entirely groomed and ready to be transformed into one of the hostesses working at an erotic club that made me feel, well, special in a way.

As I’d get closer, my nerves did start to act up. I am actually going to do this. I’ll be working there just like the other girls. I had a contract and everything. Everything kept buzzing in my head.

It was dark already when I arrived at the place at 6:30PM as requested. The club entrance was still anything but glamorous, except now the pink neon light for the sign saying “The Stiletto” was turned on.

After pressing the buzzer, it didn’t take long before Jen opened.

“Hi Crystal, come on in,” she said as she seemed slightly in a hurry.

She led me to the dressing room she showed earlier, and there were already a few girls changing apparently.

They looked somewhat bored, while one of them was dressed in a very short purple tight dress on her bare feet and doing her makeup, and another just getting out of her sweatpants.

“This is Crystal, she’s new here,” she quickly introduced me, while I smiled politely.

The one girl with pale skin and dyed black hair doing her makeup responded with a bored sounding “hi,” which seemed to be more out of courtesy because of Jen, than really meaning it.

“Hi,” I responded with a smile, wanting to make a good impression on the others, but these two seemed not so easy to impress.

In the meantime, Jen was looking through some outfits on a rack, looking at me, looking back at the outfits, quietly judging what would look best on me.

“Here, I think this will do,” she said as she handed me a coat hanger with a sheer white baby doll and something that looked like a small white thong just wrapped around the hook.

I tried hard not to show my increasing nervousness, while she was looking at the long line of shoes, while I noticed she was holding a paper with my details printed on it, just as I had submitted them on their website.

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