http://thethrillsociety.com is your link to Thrilling Stuff! This article is just a taste!
Most of these images are for sale at titsandwit.com Additional original writing by The Uncensored Stripper Follow at @theuncensoredstripper on Instragram
Chase at the Biltmore: {1-2}
The model is a long-time friend of mine. We met at my Los Angeles home club (a “home club” is where a stripper has worked for a long period of time—she may travel to dance, or work at other clubs, but a “home club” is her staple). I had a ton of friends at the club, but only a few I hung out with outside (not including photo shoots), and Chase was/is one of them. She’s a nut, but a lovable one. Chase is my go-to Halloween partner, art show curator, and second photography muse. A friend of hers at the time offered to back a shoot for her portfolio.
He booked a suite at the Biltmore Hotel and paid above my average day rate for the shoot. I was thrilled, but unfortunately, he orchestrated himself into being there when the day came—of course. I don’t usually allow people on my shoots, but she’s kind of a chicken shit in this arena. Once in the suite, I mentioned something about how I work, that I can’t have anyone around, just the model and myself. But since he was footing the whole thing, neither of us really wanted to tell him to piss off. Instead we suggested he go to the bar downstairs, luckily he did. Chase and I drank, took some uppers and listened to music. We were in the artistic zone. I used only one light for almost the whole shoot.
“She wanted film noir”
She wanted film noir, which I was happy to recreate. We were having a blast, and before we knew it, 1:30 a.m. rolled around…he wanted to come up. We weren’t even close to being finished. Panicked, we came up with a plan to put him to sleep. But the only sleeping pills I had on me were Tylenol PM’s, which we soon found out that A) don’t crush easily, and B) do not dissolve well in red wine. He was on his way up, and we were a giggling, nervous mess, trying to get the shit to blend with the wine. It wasn’t, you could totally see it at the bottom of the glass. We met him and the door like a couple of crazy hyena’s, we shoved the glass in his hand and made up a toast
—our hope was that he wouldn’t look at the glass for any extended period of time. We did our quick toast (I don’t think he even drank the wine) and I grabbed the glasses and went to the bathroom to wash out the evidence—most of which was still at the bottom. Turns out, we didn’t need it, he was hammered from his hours at the bar, and within minutes, he passed out in a chair in the corner. We shot until 5 a.m.
We shot until 5 a.m.
Me in Las Vegas: {4-6}
These are from a few years back. My boyfriend at the time was on tour. In lieu of missing him, I took a road trip to Vegas with the plan of stripping there; a change of scenery. But I didn’t want to work any of the places I had in the past (honestly, I’ve never had great money luck at the clubs in Vegas, it’s an intense hustle, even for a hustler like me!).
It’s an intense hustle, even for a hustler like me
read more at: http://thethrillsociety.com/theuncensoredstripper-behind-the-scenes-part-1-of-2/
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