What What (In the Butt)

Last night, I was poked in the butthole.

Most people can’t say that after a hard day’s work.  Until last night, I was part of that greater population.

Jesse came in around 5 PM.  The club was almost empty, and I had been sitting at a table in the corner folding origami puffy stars.  I saw him standing by the Chris, the bouncer, drinking a beer and acting as if he and Chris had been friends for years.  I walked up to him with a little wiggle and a big smile and gave him a fluorescent red star that glowed under the black lights…

Which he promptly ate.

He hit on me for a few minutes before another girl — one of the more aggressive, energetic, party-all-the-time girls — took his hat, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him off to a chair where she then plopped into his lap.

Thank god.

I can and have done well with customers who fall into the ‘life of the party’ category, but more often than not, they are more trouble than they are worth.  Last night, I just didn’t have the energy.  I went back to my quiet corner and got lost in folding more stars.

I looked up once when I caught Chris descending on Jesse in a flash out of the corner of my eye for some breech of the touching rule that I was too distracted to witness.

About an hour later, I was standing by the front desk with the door girl when Jesse came up to me and drunkenly started telling her that I was obviously ‘the mama of the club’ and that he could tell I would ‘fuck him up’ if I thought he was misbehaving.  ‘YOU are in charge here, mama.  In CHARGE.’

Having an unruly person fear me is one of the more preferred options.  So, I rolled with it.  I agreed and somehow turned the topic around to private dances.  I got him into the back and in a booth.  As I was standing over him explaining my pricing , he put his hand on the back of my thigh and tried to pull me towards him.  I removed his hand and reminded him of the rules.

The next song started, and I turned my back to him while I undid my top.  To my surprise and relief, Chris was standing in a far booth watching intently.  He turned his hand palm-up and rubbed his thumb and fingers together, mouthing ‘Money up front.’  I turned around and leaned over Jesse, cupping my tits and squeezing them together while I said lowly, ‘Hey, Jesse, let’s get business out of the way so you can relax and enjoy this fully.’  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash while I swayed sensually.  I took it and turned around again so I could count it while keeping him busy with a booty clap.

Satisfied, I threw it to the side with my purse and began to slowly remove my booty shorts.  Just as I was bending over and turning my head to shoot him a sexy smile, I felt it.

I whipped around to see him still fixated on where my ass had been, mouth hanging open, finger frozen out in front of him.

‘You’re out,’ I said, pointing towards the doorway of the booth, and pressed myself against the wall as Chris swept in from the right and my manager from the left.

I calmly gathered my money, my clothes, and the little yellow star I had been working on before he approached me as they escorted him from the club.

Once dressed, I went back out into the main room where all of the girls clamored to hear what had happened.

‘I would have elbowed him in the face!’

‘I would have slammed my foot down on his crotch!’

‘I would have fucked him up!’

‘I’d be so pissed!’

‘I’d probably be in the back crying right now.’

Chris, who had just returned from arranging a ride home for Jesse, broke in and asked, ‘Are you okay?’

It struck me then that any normal person, and even most strippers, would be really upset in this situation.  But I wasn’t.  Not only did I not have any violent impulses at any point during nor after the interaction, but I had absolutely no negative emotional reaction to being sexually assaulted.  In fact, I was glad to have finally made some money and be able to tip out the day staff.

There have been times where I’ve worked very hard to fool myself into thinking that I was okay with something when I wasn’t and then had it build up and erupt shortly after.  But I was — and still am — completely unperturbed by the entire event.

I was, however, starting to get concerned over my lack of reaction to the whole thing, but then I thought about it…

I had a bouncer watching over me the entire time, I was aware that the customer was potentially problematic, I was able to stop him before he could do much more than brush his finger against me, and I had already gotten my money.

In short, Jesse was right…

I was in charge.

I know my boundaries, and I now have a proven track record of enforcing them.  And, while getting poked in the butthole is never worth the price of a lap dance, I am confident in my team of staff and our ability to handle difficult situations with efficiency and grace.

~W~