by Sabrina York
Chair Dance: See Lapdance.
Champagne Room: See also Private Rooms or VIP. Not common in every region or club, but often used as an upsell to encourage customers to buy a larger block of time up front. Offers more privacy than the main floor, and can also be a sign of status. Some clubs take a percentage of the fee the performer negotiates for the room. Others have a flat fee for the use of the room per half hour, and the performer includes that in their fee when negotiating with a customer.
Couch Dance: See Lapdance.
Double Dance: A customer may pay two performers to dance for him at the same time. These dances can include interacting with him and each other. Many performers have closer contact with each other than the client, so the customer may be able to watch things he would never be allowed to do when purchasing a normal private dance.
Extras/Extras Girls: Services above and beyond the general services offered by most performers. Often, extras can veer into more intimate or more physical services. A customer seeking extras is looking for a performer willing to sell what they want to buy, and an ‘extras girl’ or one who ‘does extras’ is one who may be willing to negotiate for those services. With the criminalization of prostitution, extras are usually done in as private a way as possible, and will have additional costs related to the risky nature of it. In some locales, extras simply mean any service that is outside the common culture, such as allowing a customer to touch a performer or heavy grinding.
Floorwork: A portion of stage performance done on the floor or tip rail. The pole may be used for support, but is not the focus of the movement. Floorwork may be done standing, such as spins or hip rolls, twerks, or may be done on knees or back.
Get (him) onstage: The practice of tipping the DJ and any number of performers desired to bring an audience member onstage to be danced for, humiliated, or otherwise showcased for a special occasion, generally a bachelor party, a 21st birthday, or (sometimes) a divorce celebration.
Get me on my own: A euphemism for buying a private dance or private room.
Grinding: A motion in which a dancer repetitively moves their hips in circles, or back and forth provocatively. During private dances, grinding may be done on the client’s crotch to stimulate him. Onstage, it may be done on or near the tip rail, to encourage the customer to look at the performer’s ass and visualize it actually being done on his crotch. It may be a point of contention between performers and customers, as some customers may regard dancers who don’t grind hard enough or long enough as ripoffs, and some dancers may view grinding on a customer as something more intimate than they choose to do. Regional standards vary as to how much contact and grinding is allowed.
House Fee: A flat fee charged to freelance performers by some clubs, basically covering use of the venue for their performance. May vary by day and shift, with higher amounts for the days or shifts more likely to bring the dancer a higher profit. Also may be used to refer to a fee levered specifically for using a private room. Also may be a percentage of a performer’s earnings rather than a flat amount.
Hustle/Hustler: The practice of a performer selling dances to customers, persuading customers to buy their time, or otherwise soliciting payment and negotiating for services. May be used to describe the length, intensity, or skill of a performer’s sales pitch, EG, I have a fast hustle, or don’t hustle me, or she’s a hustler.
Lapdance: Also private dance, table dance, chair dance. Terminology varies by region and customer, and there may be subtler differences between these names in some regions. A customer traveling through an area, or a dancer in a new area, may use a term not generally in common practice in the current one, so performers tend to be aware of all terms. Generally, it’s a dance done for a single customer, on the main floor or a section of the main floor set aside. It’s more private than tipping at the stage, but less private than buying a larger chunk of time in a private room. It may include straddling, grinding, posing, and dirty talking.
Money (in the club): The frequency of money being exchanged in the club. EG, There’s a lot of money on Fridays: all the guys who got their paychecks. Or: the money’s all dried up. Some guy tried to tip me in nickels.
Polework: Stage performance moves or poses done showcasing the pole. For instance, gripping the pole to spin or pose, climbing the pole to support different poses, or leaning against the pole to do different motions than when the performer’s full weight is on their feet.
Pole Trick: A move or pose during a stage performance using the pole, generally of an exceptionally challenging or acrobatic nature.
Private dance: See Lapdance.
Private Room: See Champagne room.
Regular: A person who frequents an establishment. May be attached to one employee or performer more than others, patronizing them exclusively, or may simply be a club regular. The familiarity can mean a better experience, as staff are already aware of their needs and quirks. Some performers or staff may be possessive over their regular, not wanting the client to shift attention and money to others.
Settle up (with the house): To pay any outstanding fees for the shift, right before ending the shift.
Stage Fee: See also House Fee.
Stage Rotation or Rotation: The order in which performers dance on the stage. A dancer will keep track of where she is in the rotation by remembering one or two other dancers who perform before her.
Stage Set: A dancer’s time on stage, generally calculated as a number of songs, but sometimes done with songs cropped to a set time frame. 1-3 songs are standard.
Sugarbaby/Sugardaddy: People in a financial arrangement to provide recurring or ongoing (not by the hour) companionship for financial compensation. Arrangements may be sexual in nature, platonic, or any combination. Most often these arrangements are formed between a younger female (sugarbaby), and an older or less attractive man (sugardaddy). Compensation may come in the form of a daddy taking care of his baby’s bills, in offering her a monthly allowance, or in extravagant gifts or privileges. Companionship may be private or public, depending on the daddy’s needs.
Sweatpants Boner Man: See also Boner man.
Table dance: see Lapdance.
Tipout: Additional money to be paid out by freelance performers for extra services utilized in the venue. For instance, a club may require a $50 house fee, a $20 DJ tipout, a $10 Bar/waitstaff tipout, and a $10 Housemom tipout. This tip is generally a minimum; a performer having an extremely lucrative night is expected to tip more than the standard tipout. Also, additional tips are expected as common courtesy at the time the services are rendered. For instance if a bartender mixes a performer a drink, if a DJ rearranges his set playlist to accommodate a performer’s request, or if a bouncer specifically assists a performer with a problem customer. The common practice is that it’s better to be too generous than to have people who aren’t enthusiastic about supporting you as your support network.
Tip Rail: A flat, raised surface lining the borders of the stage. Some clubs may simply have a narrow border for customers to put money on for the performer; others may build it as a counter to be eaten at and danced on, as well.
VIP/ VIP Room: See Champagne room.
The club and culture of Queen of Clubs is entirely fictional, though it is partially rooted in the practices of the Portland and LA strip club scenes. Regional standards for exotic dancers and strip clubs vary. Check your local laws to find out what is specifically legal for you, if you are considering becoming a dancer.
Unusual.
The Billionaire Bitch Trilogy #2
Kiki Wellington
The Billionaire Bitch Trilogy
Billionaire oil heiress Elle Anderton is desperate to protect her heart—and her trust fund. Darren Phillips is equally desperate to prove that his love for her is real. When they get into a power struggle for what they really want, they find that desperate times call for desperate measures.
The Billionaire Bitch Trilogy contains the following erotic stories:
Cruel. (D
ownload for free)
The jig was up: After living as a struggling artist for over a year, Elle Anderton’s secret—she’s really an heir to the Anderton Oil fortune—is revealed. Though her boyfriend is livid about her lies, he starts to understand why she needed them. But when Elle suggests a series of love tests to prove that Darren isn’t after her billion dollar trust fund, will his understanding have its limits?
Unusual.
Oil heiress Elle Anderton has been testing her boyfriend with kinky love games to prove that he’s not after her family’s billions. And as time wears on, the test takes them both to sexual places they’ve never gone before and some of their strangest fantasies become reality.
Punishment.
Although billionaire oil heiress Elle Anderton has become engaged to Darren, she still feels compelled to put him to the ultimate love test to prove he’s not interested in her fortune. But as their sexual power struggle continues, the tables of control keep on turning until they’re both satisfied they belong together.
Unusual.
Water welled up in my wide eyelids as I watched him slowly walk away.
I couldn’t blame him. I did sexually humiliate him dozens of times for about six months. To his credit, he was a good sport about it. But maybe making him watch me fuck my ex on our anniversary was a lot more than he bargained for.
But he could have stopped it. Why didn’t he just say the fucking safeword? I would have gotten that piece of shit off of me in a heartbeat and gone running into Darren’s arms, apologizing for subjecting him to such a spectacle. He knew he could say “caterpillar” at any time and the episode would have ended. So why didn’t he?
He couldn’t have been that offended by watching my ex mount me and shove his hard cock deep inside my willing, wet pussy. He did get aroused after all—and even tried to stroke his cock until I instructed him not to. It was all part of the game and as far as I could tell, Darren was game.
I couldn’t let him walk away. Not again. I remembered how I felt when he wouldn’t speak to me after finding out my secret. It was two weeks of hell, but when he finally came around, he started to understand why I lied about being a trust fund baby. He understood that after years of being taken advantage of financially by men, I longed to find someone to love me for just myself. And when I asked him to prove his love through kink, he agreed.
He took everything I dished out—and even planned on giving me a ring that night…until I went too far with the game. After everything we’d been through those two years, there was no way I could let him walk away—not this time. I ran after him in the drizzling night, trying to dodge puddles and stay relatively dry.
“Darren! Darren!” I screamed. He just kept on walking toward his car, so I picked up my pace, knowing it was the most important sprint of my life.
“Darren! Wait! Wait!” I yelled, steadily running toward him. And when I had finally gotten close, my feet betrayed me and I slipped face down on the pavement. “Shit,” I said as I felt my skin tear against the slippery ground. I tilted my head and rested my face on the hard, cold concrete. All I could do was start sobbing.
I felt him stroke my cheek lovingly. “It’s okay, Elle,” he whispered in my ear. “It’s okay, baby.”
“No, it’s not!” I said, choking down tears and rain. “I ruined everything!”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. He grabbed my arm and helped me up to my feet. “Let’s just get you home and dry you off. We can talk about it over some hot chocolate.”
Darren gave me a hug and I collapsed in his arms. I was exhausted, relieved, guilty, and bleeding. I desperately wanted to turn back the clock to avoid the whole fucking thing. Sure, the sex was fantastic, mind blowing, awesome…but was it really worth all this?
To add insult to Darren’s injury, my ex seemed to think the sex meant much more than it really did and started hinting about a reconciliation. But when Darren punched him in the face, he got the message—and I got the secret thrill of finally seeing him get what he deserved. His ego was bruised—and so was his face—but when you cheat on someone with their friend and then run off with thousands of dollars of their money, you really don’t get to complain about how they treat you afterwards.
You may be wondering why I picked such an asshole for my cuckold fantasy. That was simple: He was as great in bed as he was ghastly everywhere else. Plus, given our history, I was sure Darren wouldn’t feel threatened by him. I guess I was wrong.
Darren stroked the wet hair out of my face and we walked back to my house arm in arm. My cousin Leah was right—he couldn’t stay mad at me for anything—especially not something that occurred during one of our episodes. Still, I couldn’t help but feel like a bitch. It seemed like every time I felt I had pushed the boundaries of how mean I could be to him, I found there was always another inch I could go. I had other ideas of how to dish up more cruelty, but I figured after the threesome fiasco, I’d move on to exploring our unusual fantasies. And I had no idea how unusual they could get.
I sat on the floor in my bathrobe, drying off and looking at my skinned knee. He sat next to me, handed me a cup of hot chocolate, and gave me a slow, sweet kiss on the cheek.
“You took quite a tumble there, Elle,” he said, rubbing my shoulders to make sure I got warm. “Your knee is pretty banged up.”
I nodded while taking a sip of hot chocolate. Darren bent over and put a bandage on my knee, then slowly kissed my boo-boo.
“Some people would say this is a little karmic,” Darren laughed.
“Would you say that?”
“Not necessarily.”
“So why did you run off like that?”
“I was angry. I just watched the love of my life having sex with another man in front of me. I begrudgingly enjoyed it—well, to a point—and then when it was all said and done, I had to punch the dude in the face for being disrespectful. That’s a lot of shit to deal with in one night!”
I rested my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry he insulted you.”
“And of all the people on the planet to have a threesome with, you picked him why exactly?”
“Because I hate him.”
Darren let out a loud belly laugh. “Yeah, that makes all the sense in the world! I always go out of my way to fuck people I can’t stand.”
“I’m not going to deny that he’s a good lay. We never had any problems in that area. Plus, I thought he was the least threatening person I could find. You don’t have to worry about him.”
“I see what you mean. Wait…you still think he’s a good lay?”
“He’s good. Obviously not as good as you,” I said, positioning my hand on Darren’s crotch to take the temperature of his interest. I was happy to find that his temperature was on the rise. I took that as my opportunity to make up for the whole disastrous evening. I opened up my robe and guided his hands to my tits, which he immediately gripped in his fists. I lowered my head toward his crotch, unbuttoned his pants, and took his zipper in my mouth to pull it down slowly as he watched and clutched my tits. His thumbs rested on my nipples, which got hard under his warm skin. His cock was hard, ready, and begging to be freed from the confines of his tighty-whiteys. I pulled down his underwear and greeted the tip of his hard on with my mouth, licking it ferociously as if I was putting out a fire. Darren moaned as I took more of his cock in my mouth inch by inch by inch, letting it tickle the back of my throat with its throbbing hardness.
As I bobbed up and down on his cock, Darren continued to massage my tits and squeeze my nipples. I moaned with his cock in my mouth, and the trembling sensations made him groan in return. I picked up the pace of my movements, hungrily gobbling his throbbing cock. Then I gripped the bottom of his shaft, jerking it intently as I continued taking the rest of his cock in and out of my mouth over and over again. Darren moaned even louder and then cried out as his cock shot come into my throat. He stroked my cheek and motioned for me to sit back up. When my head was close t
o his, he pulled me in and pressed his lips against mine. He devoured me with his deep kiss, twirling our tongues around and sharing the come he squirted inside my mouth.
“So, who’s the best lay?” he asked after pulling his mouth away from mine.
“You are.”
“And don’t you forget it!”
We shared a laugh, and then there was an awkward silence between us as I thought about the ring in my coat pocket. I didn’t know what to do about it since his plan to propose to me got derailed. He told me he wanted me to have the ring, but he didn’t want to ask me anymore.
So what did that mean? Were we engaged? Were we engaged to be engaged? Should I turn the tables and ask him? I didn’t know what to make of it.
Darren’s ESP kicked in and he started the conversation that I was too afraid to.
“That was awkward when the ring fell out of my pocket, huh?” Darren asked, moving his body behind me and putting his arms around my waist.
“Yeah…it was definitely awkward.”
“I just need some time after what happened tonight.”
“So, is this going to be another situation where you don’t talk to me for weeks? You’re going to run away every time something goes wrong? I can’t go through that again.”
“I’m not saying that…and I’m not going anywhere,” he said, squeezing me tightly against him. “I’m just saying, as far as the whole ring thing is concerned, I need some time. But as far as that break or whatever it was, that was a one-time deal. I was miserable those two weeks.”