Experimenting with writing short stories...
poledancer83
Narnia
I've wrote a few short stories just to pass time. Let me know if you think they are any good.
Meeting starts as usual. Drink specials and song selections and here I am again at work. I down some drinks to take off the edge and now its time to put on the fake me. Fake nails, makeup, fake eyelashes, fake tan, hell even a fake name. I here my name echo through the club. I am up and on stage watching the crowd. 18th birthdays and retirement parties, they are all the same. They chose this club and some choose me. As the songs play I think of bills, family and that I need to make plans to meet a lady about a new apartment. Then all the sudden back to reality. Once again I did the impossible. I am exposed. I crawl and rub and shake and collect the money. I hear the talk. Hot sexy nice ass. I also hear slut to fat and ugly. As the song stops I collect my cash and leave the stage. I cuss myself because once again I am turned on. I am fully exposed and feel as if I should be ashamed but I am not. My manager comes up to me tells me someone wants a dance. I fix my make up and get my self together. Another drink to calm down. Panties and bra are on and here I go. Head held high and doing what I love even when sometimes I feel its wrong. A nice man is waiting for me. He compliments me but not in a way most girls are complimented. I get a nice ass or comments about my tits. Most would be mad but again im not. He tips I dance and again I feel the wetness and sensation betray me again. I grumble and take the money. I silently, with every dance and set pay bills in my head. I am able to dance, be naked and talk to people while still not even thinking about what I am doing. Its then that I realize I am proud. I am a strong female, a dancer, not only a dancer but a god damn stripper. As the club closes and I make it home to my bed I can be me again. I lay there naked smelling of body spray and smoke. Tomorrow I will wake up and ride the roller coaster one more time. I smile and close my eyes. Maybe I chose the job or maybe the job chose me.
Thoughts?? Excuse grammar and spelling lol
Meeting starts as usual. Drink specials and song selections and here I am again at work. I down some drinks to take off the edge and now its time to put on the fake me. Fake nails, makeup, fake eyelashes, fake tan, hell even a fake name. I here my name echo through the club. I am up and on stage watching the crowd. 18th birthdays and retirement parties, they are all the same. They chose this club and some choose me. As the songs play I think of bills, family and that I need to make plans to meet a lady about a new apartment. Then all the sudden back to reality. Once again I did the impossible. I am exposed. I crawl and rub and shake and collect the money. I hear the talk. Hot sexy nice ass. I also hear slut to fat and ugly. As the song stops I collect my cash and leave the stage. I cuss myself because once again I am turned on. I am fully exposed and feel as if I should be ashamed but I am not. My manager comes up to me tells me someone wants a dance. I fix my make up and get my self together. Another drink to calm down. Panties and bra are on and here I go. Head held high and doing what I love even when sometimes I feel its wrong. A nice man is waiting for me. He compliments me but not in a way most girls are complimented. I get a nice ass or comments about my tits. Most would be mad but again im not. He tips I dance and again I feel the wetness and sensation betray me again. I grumble and take the money. I silently, with every dance and set pay bills in my head. I am able to dance, be naked and talk to people while still not even thinking about what I am doing. Its then that I realize I am proud. I am a strong female, a dancer, not only a dancer but a god damn stripper. As the club closes and I make it home to my bed I can be me again. I lay there naked smelling of body spray and smoke. Tomorrow I will wake up and ride the roller coaster one more time. I smile and close my eyes. Maybe I chose the job or maybe the job chose me.
Thoughts?? Excuse grammar and spelling lol
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12 comments
I strongly suggest that you get someone to edit your stories. Do NOT try to edit them yourself. Once you have written a story, you will read what you wanted to write, not what is written (all writers have the same problem). A friend (or a professional) editing will help tremendously.
Also, if you are planning on writing "stripper" or "slice of life" stories to start, you might try publishing over at literotica.com where you can get loads of help and lots of critique and comments.
Keep writing and you will improve. Do it for yourself and you will come to love it.
Suggestions? Paragraphs! One long one makes it hard for the reader. Plus you'll have your storytelling clearer when you organize it in paragraphs. Each paragraph is a thought and they should lead on into the next.
Your narrative has two themes: the drudgery of the daily grind of work along with your almost scornful attitude of having a sexual response. And in a rather cliche way tie them in the end of the story with, "Well I'm a strong woman who pays my bills". As sclvr said, BTDT. To be a good writer, you need to have some surprises and originality. Something new to the reader.
But stay with it!!! The ONLY way to be a good writer is to write. A lot. And also, read a lot and as a writer you will see the structures that the pro's have, which is why people pay money to read what they write.