Day 2 – The awakening
First off, I want to say to all ClubHombre members—you disgust me. I have sort of been taking it on the chin here, venturing to a previously unreported locale, at my own expense. Some of you see me as nothing but a joke, put here on earth to be the object of your kidding and demoralizing comments. I have seriously considered stopping my reporting altogether and resigning my membership on ClubHombre as a result the behavior of a few. However, for the time being I will finish the job I set out to do—exploring the South Dakota sex scene. After I return to Rio, I will let my head clear and make a final decision about my future here on this board.

7:00 am -- I woke up as usual, with the covers on my bed at full staff. A family of midgets could have lived in the tent I was sporting over my manhood. It was an incredible sight, breathtaking really. I only regret I did not bring my digital camera on the trip. I remembered I had until 8:00 am to continue watching the all-day porno on the television without paying a second charge. The thought of jerking off to porno disgusted me. I was after all, not here to jerk off all day. I decided to check the newspaper to see if there were any advertisements in the classifieds that might start me on my way. The hotel only had USA Today, so I got dressed and headed down the block to the corner store to purchase a local rag which would hopefully report on the sex scene in the area.

Before I go much further I would like to give the reader some background on me. Many of you already know I am in the pornography business—sort of. I have an online, virtual strip club staffed with some of the hottest girls in Rio. I have been known to make the occasional porno film or photo shoot. On a personal level, porn is of no interest to me whatsoever.

I have a friend who is a critically acclaimed photographer who produces award winning content for major men’s magazines in the United States and Europe. Last month he did 5 separate days of shooting in my studios and on various locations in Rio with my models and myself, which will be printed in several magazines over the next 6 to 12 months. I had been dying to see his work before but it is not available in Rio. When I strolled into the Bob’s Quick Stop in Rapid City and saw the wall of men’s magazines, it was this curiosity that compelled me to buy one of every magazine I recognized. Hustler, Cherie, Genesis, Penthouse, Playboy and Hot Legs as well as a local paper.

I carried my bounty of porn back to the Hampton Inn and browsed through some of the porn rags looking for some of my buddies work. I had to admit there was some pretty erotic stuff in there. Lots of pictures of feet (thank God the world is starting to pay attention to the important stuff). I did not see any of what I was looking for, but the Honeys in those magazines certainly had parts of my anatomy’s attention. I decided that before I got started I might as well rub one out. So sure nuff—I did it again. I jerked off.

After I was done I cleaned up and started scouring the local newspaper classifieds for some ideas. I didn’t have much faith in escort agencies after the disappointment of the day before. So I looked in the sports section for strip club ads. I opened the page and there it was… “Coyote Joes” located at 100 St. Joe. Okay, it was only 9:30 am so too early to hit Coyote Joes so I decided to take a tour to the Badlands National Park and hopefully get to meet some Native American pussy, or at least flirt with them a little bit. I found a tour leaving at 1:00 pm and returning at 7:00 pm. That sounded perfect as I could get back, clean up and head over to Coyote Joes about 9:00 pm. There was only one thing troubling me—all the porn magazines in my room. I felt sort of like pervert, and frankly a loser for having to resort to jerking off to porn magazines. Therefore I stuffed all of the magazines into the paper sack from Bob’s Quick Stop, walked outside to the back of the Hampton Inn and threw them all in the dumpster. I relieved that this dark part of my sexuality was finally behind me and I vowed to never look at them again.

I took the tour as scheduled. Unfortunately most of my tourmates were blue-haired old ladies from places like Ohio and Indiana. There was a young couple from Seattle, and the newlywed bride was definitely doable.

We arrived at Badlands National Park and there wasn’t much to see except wilderness. What the fuck? Why would anyone go there, there wasn’t anything except rocks. Definitely not a place I would want to spend much time. This was the worst tour I had ever taken. What a scam.

I didn’t see any Native Americans whatsoever, until we stopped for souvenirs at “Pow Wows Souvenir Shop” at the Rosebud Indian Reservation. Inside the shop was a super HOT Indian lady, probably 29 years old. She was much older than most of the women I date, but she was definitely MILF (Mom I’d Like to Fuck) material. She was working at the fast food counter serving fried Black-footed Ferret, an Indian delicacy. I ordered some fried ferret and have to admit it was pretty damned tasty. I decided to start talking to her and the conversation went as follows:

GCL: “Hi, do you speak English?”
Squaw: “Of course, what do you need? “
GCL: “What’s your name? “
Squaw: She rolled her eyes and said, “Burnt Foot. Look, I’m really busy here so if you don’t mind…“
GCL: “I know, sorry for bothering you but you are the prettiest woman I have ever seen and I just had to talk to you. Just looking at your eyes makes me feel warm inside.“
BurntFoot: “Thanks, your nice, but I am not interested. Can I help you with something else?“

(This was going to be a tough nut to crack. Normally my looks and a smile are enough to get women to pay attention to me. In this case however, I needed a little more. Fortunately I had brought along a secret weapon—one of my ziplock bags with lipstick, makeup items and chocolates. I have used these on mongering trips for years, always with success).

GCL: I reached out and handed her the ziplock and said, “Hey, I just wanted to give you something. Here, this is for you”.
BurntFoot: “Please go away or I will ask the manager to call security.
GCL: Sorry, bye.“
BurntFoot: “Ugh.“
GCL: “Can I have some more fried Black-Footed Ferret please?“
BurntFoot: “Security!“

On the long ride back to Rapid City I felt defeated. It was bad enough being pinned to the floor, handcuffed and escorted out of PowWows, but it had to happen in front of the entire tour group with whom I was trapped for two friggin hours inside the tour bus. I sat in the back of the bus, but I could hear the snickering of the other passengers. I closed my eyes to pretend to sleep. I barely opened one eye and I could see them turning to look at me as they spoke among themselves. I had hit a new low. I did not even know why. I mean, I had not been rejected by any women in over a year, and now this. Why? What had I done wrong? The ride seemed like an eternity, but finally we got back to Rapid City. Once off the bus I sprinted out of site. I do not know if it was my imagination or not but I heard laughter behind me as I disappeared out of the site of my tourmates.

I hurried back to the Hampton to have a drink, relax and get ready for Coyote Joes (CJ’s). The anticipation of bagging one of these strippers was starting to get to me and I could feel a chubby coming on. I got dressed and headed to CJ’s.

CJ’s was easy to find. Just a couple of blocks off of Main St. in Rapid City. Cover charge was $2.00. Drinks were $5, and ‘private dances’ were $20. Twenty bucks sounded like a pretty fair price providing the ‘private dance’ concluded with a happy ending. So I settled in, ordered a beer and started hunting for my conquest. At 9:30 pm there were about 10 girls and 12 men inside. Of the 10 girls I am sad to say 7 were fat, 1 looked anorexic and only 2 were doable. None were Indians, but I was not ready to talk to another Indian again. I had been thinking constantly about the earlier encounter with BurntFoot and was thinking perhaps she was a racist and did not like white guys.

Anyway, I motioned over one of the doable girls. She asked if I wanted some company and I said yes. She sat and introduced herself as Passion. I am always amazed at the names of strippers. I mean, it is no wonder they end up stripping. Sort of like they are destined to become strippers from the moment their parents name them. But I digress. I asked Passion what a private dance involved. She pointed to the back where there were couches set up in a dark corner. She said we could go there and she would do everything for me (Alright! I thought. Finally I had hit the jackpot). I agreed and we went to the back. The song began and Passion started moving. I have to admit having been spoiled by watching Brazilian girls dance. Passion was probably a good dancer by American standards but she looked almost clumsy when compared to her Brazilian counterpart. But this report isn’t about comparisons so I will shut up about that.

By the end of the first song, Passion stripped off all her clothes. As the second song began I was getting wood and started to unzip my pants to give her access to my dick. For some reason she had stopped dancing and was getting dressed again. She saw what I was doing and said, “Stop that you creep”. I was startled and asked her what she meant. She said I cant do that here or I would get thrown out. I quickly zipped up and asked her why she was getting dressed and she said, “Because your dance is over”. I said, “But you said you would do everything”. She said, “I did…I took everything off”. I said, “But I want to cum…if you will meet me later I will pay up to $50 for your time”. She said, “Well nothing like that goes on here. First of all it is illegal, second of all I am not a prostitute. I really think you should leave”.

I left CJ’s pissed off, embarrassed and with a full sac. I cannot recommend the place. Go ahead and take it off your list. I returned to the Hampton Inn and fell onto my bed trying to decide what to do. The days events were running through my head. I had never felt so insignificant. Then a thought entered into my head. At first I rejected the idea, but it kept returning, like when you keep hearing a song you hate in your head over and over. I finally gave in, got out of bed, put on dark clothing, and walked out of my room.

I took a side exit from the hotel, and walked close to the building to the corner. Noone was in the parking lot so I ran across as fast as I could and stopped behind the dumpster to catch my breath. Fortunately the top of the dumpster was open and I could see it had not been emptied yet. I grabbed the edge of the opening and climbed in quickly so noone would see me. It was dark inside but my eyes were adjusting so there was just enough moonlight that I thought I see by. I started digging through the rubbish, moving sacks of trash around looking for the Bob’s Quick Stop sack containing the magazines I had thrown away previously. After several minutes I heard a truck approaching. The headlights illuminated the inside of the dumpster as the truck moved into the parking space. During this brief moment of illumination I spotted the Bob’s sack. The truck motor stopped and I moved into the back of the dumpster to hide in the shadow. I could hear men talking and laughing. They walked up to the dumpster and threw in beer cans and emptied an ashtray into the dumpster. Ashes filled the air and went all over my face, into my eyes and nose. They left as quickly as they had arrived and I went straight to the Bob’s sack. I quickly surveyed the contents and all my magazines were still there. I peeked outside of the dumpster, no one was in the parking lot so I leapt out and got back to my room as quickly as I could.

I immediately took a shower to get the dumpster grime and ashes off. After my shower I repeated the previous South Dakota “sessions” and quickly nutted all over my hand. I fell asleep trying to understand why I wasn’t able to score, particularly with the Indian girl at PowWows.

At 3:00 am I awoke and sat bolt upright in bed. In my sleep my subconscious had discovered the problem with my technique on this trip. A year in Rio had really hampered my ability at self-evaluation. But two days in South Dakota had helped me realize an undeniable truth about myself—I WAS NOT HOT! Nope. Not at all. Basically, I have fallen into the category of a guy that really should not be getting laid.

Well there it is. At least I now knew. I felt some relief that I would be leaving the following day. But I vowed not to leave defeated. I would find a way to have a sexual encounter involving a woman before leaving. It was with this thought that I fell back asleep and ended one of the worst days of my life.

Ummmm...do you have any idea that you ATE the most endangered mammel in North America? I dont know whether to feel sorry for you or to call the authorities.

GCL,
Unfortunately, your story mirrors my experiences mongering in Great Falls, Montana. All I can say is look for the Oriental Massage that is open 24hrs. There has to be one.
SL

I have faith in you, GCL, but you're going to have to expand your definition of "woman" if you want to have a successful encounter.

BTW, I've seen you at festas, so I know those midgets would have to be mini-midgets to fit under any tent supported by your pole...

I’m sorry your trip is not turning out as well as you had hoped.
After the humiliation you have endured it must be hard to face another day.

I think you should follow BurntFoot home and take some pictures of her burned foot or feet and post them on your web site. I’ll bet people would pay to see them. I know I would.

That is really funny stuff. The best installment so far. Any chances of extending your trip? You haven't been to a Indian reservation yet.

Hey GCL. Just wanted to give you a quick update on how things are going at the office.

The girls all say they miss you but hope you extend your trip another two-three weeks so you can relax. They say they are worried about you because of all the stress in your job and all;

Business has never been better and we are beating daily targets for minutes;

I have really been enjoying being your stand in manager while you have been gone. I sure do like the fringe benefits as well. These girls have really warmed up to me since I gave all of them raises and reduced their hours. And, we are now serving filet mignon twice a week instead of once per month. They all asked me to thank you.

I was giving some thought to paying for their daily taxi fares instead of making them ride busses. Any thought on that idea??? The girls sure like it!

Lastly, I went ahead and ordered the new cameras and just charged it to your account. They had a neat promotion going on that if you bought 10, you got one for free. I plan to keep the freebie for myself for all my work and effort and I saved you $30,000 on the purchase with my great negotiating skills. They normally sell for $9,995 each but I got them for you for $6,995 each for buying 10. Now, I just have to find some "courriers to bring them to Rio.

all else is going great. Have a safe trip and don't let these horny jealous bastards get you down. You are doing great work out there and taking one for the team......

P.S. I finally got my internet up in my apartment. Now, if I could ever tear myself away from the office I might get some personal work done. So many demands and so little time...

Sandman

I find where this thread is going denigrating, although clearly not to GCL. Poor sheep.

GCL, I can't believe you're not having a better time of things in SD. I think you're making some classic mistakes - maybe you've never been to SD before.

You should consider using guide no doubt!

Look guys...if I had it to do over again, I would definately recommend using a guide. It would have saved me a ton of time, I could have gone straight to the action, and I would have understood the language better (clearly I havent been on the same page all the time).

Sandman... what can I say except I am grateful that for once someone else can attest to how stressful it is to work in my office. ANywone who thinks working and living amongst 35 horney strippers 24/7 is a cakewalk should be forced to walk a mile in my shoes.

LAguy, I wish you were here with me, perhaps I would have more courage to explore low end places. At this point, I dont really know how low-end I can go.

A cakewalk IMO... hope you're a size 10.

Oh shit. That reminds me. I forgot about the "No Shoes" policy you have. Damn these girls will try to get away with murder when the boss is away.

I'll politely remind them tomorrow in a very nice way of course.....Sorry! It won't happen again.

Keep your powder dry up there in the badlands.

Hey, Sandman,

As long as you are running the "Office" for now, you should re-instate the long-abolished, but fondly-remembered "No Panties" policy. GCL prematurely cancelled it last year when the girls pointed out that if they were to walk around without panties 24/7, then he'd have to quit his cross-dressing - in the spirit of fairness. Actually I think they were just sickened by seeing him in bra, hose and garters, who wouldn't be? But since you don't have those gender-identity problems (that I know of), you could safely re-instate "No Panties", which would definitely keep the girls a lot cooler down there in muggy Rio, and therefore happier and more productive.

When GCL gets back, buy him a set of "Feminine Intimates" Depends (they are the ones with the pink butterfly print) and that should satisfy his cross-dressing fetishes without grossing out the girls (also takes care of his problem with doing #2 in public).

Always happy to help out,

BS

(Message edited by badseed on May 20, 2004)