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A friend of a friend made a negative crack about strippers the other night. I should have asked what the fuck he was doing with his life that was so important or Earth shattering; at least I make people laugh and feel good. I should have asked why I have to be either a brain surgeon or a “stupid” stripper. Who made these idiotic rules? But I didn’t. Some people just cannot understand that there are intelligent woman who choose to take their clothes off for money.

Having said that, my night began with me putting on a leather collar with a tiny bell that a regular had bought for me—it was totally ridiculous. I call this guy “The Choker” because he likes to choke me. He doesn’t do it too much and sometimes I like this during sex so it’s no big deal. But he does this one thing that drives me crazy; he rubs my inner thigh with his thumb and I hate it. Rub, rub, rub, in the same spot. It makes my skin crawl not to mention causes a raw spot on my thigh. I would say something, but men are sensitive and we’re supposed to love everything they do.

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