Straight Guy Working in a Gay Club

*All characters in this story are over the age of 18. no underage role-play appears in this story*

I was 21 years old and had just broken up with my girlfriend, forcing me to leave her apartment. Apparently, "Daddy's little girl," thought she could fuck whoever she wanted without a care in the world and without consequences. My ex was a spoiled girl whose father paid for everything. My mistake, besides dating her, had been moving in with her. I dodged a bullet on that account because she popped up positive for an STD and had to notify everyone she had sex with within the last month. Luckily I was clean after my blood test. So I was crashing on friends' couches as I looked for an apartment I could afford. I was starting my fourth year of college and my current job just wasn't cutting it anymore. I wasn't rich and I paid my own way through life. Which unfortunately wasn't going well. I had just seen a flyer, which I didn't know people still used, for a "bartender wanted" sign. The flyer advertised good money plus tips, flexible hours, and a safe working environment. The last line surprised me: "men only." I was happy but surprised. I had seen some hot female bartenders in my time and knew they always brought in extra customers who wanted to hit on them. That was when I recognized the name "The Chute." As the only real gay club around, this place was famous. Not being gay, I was hesitant to, but figured I should at least check it out. A bartender job with tips was just too good to pass up.

I arrived at the address and was surprised that even the parking lot was so clean. I tried the door, but it was locked. Frowning, I wondered if the flyer was old and that the business was closed. There was no phone number on the flyer, so I had nothing else to try. Just as I was about to leave, the door opened, and a 30-year-old white man stuck his head out. He saw me and smiled, asking, "You here for the bartender job, kid?"

I nodded as I answered, "Yes, sir."

He smiled as he looked me up and down, before nodding his head and waving me inside, as he said, "Yeah, I think you'll work out just fine."

Feeling a little nervous about being so obviously checked out by another guy, I set my anxiety aside and followed him inside. The place was huge. It was obviously an old industrial warehouse that had been converted into a club. There was the main floor with a bar, dance floor, and a raised dance stage. The second level was mostly just a wrap-around dance floor with rails in the center so everyone could still see the stage. There were also at least four dance cages suspended from the ceiling that were currently resting on the floor but were obviously meant to be elevated when they were occupied. The whole place was immaculate. As the guy continued to lead me into the back, I noticed a black door against the back wall, with an unlit neon sign that read, "Fun House." Guessing what probably happened behind those doors, my anxiety grew a little more.

I was not an overly buff guy. I didn't have a bodybuilder or swimmer body, but I liked to think that I kept in shape. I have blonde hair and blue eyes. I'm 5'5" and weigh 120 lbs. The guy leading me through the club was clearly a bodybuilder and I wondered if he was also a bouncer. He was easily 6' 220 lbs. As we walked, he asked, "So, have you ever tended a bar or worked in a club before, kid?"

I frowned as I replied, "No, sir. But I can learn fast."

He nodded as he replied, "Well, you have the right attitude, I'll give you that. Plus you could earn plenty of tips looking the way you do."

I smiled, hoping that I might have impressed him enough to put in a good word for me with the owner. He led me the back stairs to an office with glass walls, allowing anyone inside to keep an eye on the club. He knocked on the door and a voice inside invited us to come in. As I was led inside, my guide said, "Got a kid that wants to tend bar for you, Mark."

Mark smiled at the big guy and said, "Great. Thanks, John."

John then left and closed the door, as Mark invited me to take a seat. I did and Mark asked my name and age. I told him and introduced myself as Alex. He asked to see my driver's license, which I produced. He then smiled and said that since this was an establishment that served alcohol and featured exotic male dancers, he had to check. I nodded and he began the interview. The questions were all pretty standard: work history, availability, etc. I was able to make a good impression I think. He didn't even seem put out that I hadn't ever tended bar before. He told me that I would have to follow the other bartenders around for a while until I got the hang of things.

I was feeling good about my prospects until he asked me if I knew about the clientele of the club. I nodded and replied, "I know this is a gay club, but I'm cool with that. I just need a job."

With the understanding that I wasn't gay, he sat back as he asked, "You understand that working will likely mean being hit on by gay men?"

I nodded and said that it wouldn't bother me as long as they didn't get handsy. He smiled and nodded, before asking, "You do realize that your best chance of earning better tips will require some friendly flirting with the customers. Are you OK with that?"

I again nodded, as I said, "Yeah, I'm comfortable with that. I've never flirted with another guy before, but I'm not shy either. At the very least I can stay friendly and keep them ordering drinks."

This made him smile, as he said, "Well that's why you're there."

He then went into the basic schedule of the club: opening at 8 pm and closing at 4 am. Employees had to arrive at least 10 minutes before their shift started. Shifts could be a full 8 hours or 4 hours, depending on the employee's preferences, though most tended to work the whole 8 hours. I was told that I could start tonight if I was available. I jumped at the chance and said yes. I was told to arrive at 7:50 pm and park in the employee's parking lot behind the building and come in through the rear entrance. He smiled as he shrugged and said, "Sorry, kid, working here you're going to hear plenty of gay jokes and innuendo. Just roll with it and you'll do fine. Learn to return their fire and you'll be golden."

I nodded as he began showing me around the club. He showed me the bar where I'd be working and handed me a mixed drinks book for me to learn. After that, he showed me the bathrooms, stage, upstairs dance area, dressing rooms for the dancers, locker area for employee belongings, and then walked me out of the back to show me the fenced-in employee parking lot. I was impressed. As he was walking me back to the front, he indicated the "Fun House" door and told me that I didn't need to worry about that area. Smiling at me, he added, "But you would be a hit if you went exploring."

I asked what he meant, and he replied, "Kid, you got the look down cold. You're in shape, but not overly toned. I can tell you have a great ass. You have just enough baby fat to make the tops drool over you. You have a bright and honest smile. You're a blonde, which is always cute. Plus if you play your cards right and never actually say whether you're straight or gay, you're bound to have guys wanting to find out for themselves."

He laughed at my dubious expression, and added, "The look on your face is priceless, kid. The back area is strictly for customers to play with each other. No employees are expected to go back there while they're working. In fact, no employees are allowed back there for personal reasons while they're working. If we have a private party here, then that's different. Don't worry, kid, John and his guys never let any of you twinks out of their sight. So just smile and play along with the comments, and flirting and you'll make plenty of tips."

I nodded as I considered what he had said and seeing how I really needed the job, I said that I would be back that night. Over the next month, I settled in fine. I learned the drinks and was allowed to work without a chaperone after three nights. I was getting along with my coworkers. I was actually enjoying the atmosphere, since I wasn't trying to pick up anyone I could just have a good time. I was able to deal with the constant pick-up lines and flirting by customers with a warm smile and an added joke to keep them coming back. The schedule was perfect for me with college. The pay and tips even allowed me to get a much better apartment in a nice part of town that I hadn't even considered before. Mark had even suggested that I could be one of the elevated-cage dancers if I wanted to try it out. He said that I wasn't big or cute enough for the main stage, but that I could easily be one of the other dancers (who were usually dressed in skimpy latex outfits). Since I was making the same bartending, I declined saying that I was probably better at serving drinks.

After two weeks I began listening to the other bartenders and dancers about how to dress and act. I started wearing tighter pants, tighter shirts, button-up shirts that weren't even buttoned, and even tight short shorts. It was so easy for me that after a few days, it became second nature for me to make gay jokes and flirt right along with everyone else. The employees were great and we always ate together on Friday and Saturday nights before work. Mark always paid for a big spread of food for the employees, considering we would be killing ourselves on the busiest nights.

I hadn't even realized that I was so comfortable with everyone until I fired back at John after one of his salacious comments about me, causing everyone to howl with laughter. John then picked me up, slung me over his shoulder, slapped my ass, and began heading to the "Fun House" as he announced, "I'll be back in 30 minutes, but he'll need longer to recover."

We all continued to laugh and carry on, after he made a U-turn, walked back to my seat, and plopped me back down, as he warned jokingly, "Next time I take that ass for a test drive, Alex."

I fired back, "Yeah? Well, I guess someone has to be my first."

This caused a roar of laughter, pats on my back, approving replies from the bottoms, and several volunteers from the most other tops to be my first. Everything about working at the club was great. I hadn't even been too put at being single for so long. I was so concentrated on school and work that I hadn't even thought about dating. I got along with everyone and even swapped horrible exes and bad relationship stories with them. I always made it a point of gender-swapping my exes into males whenever there were customers nearby. The other employees thought this was hilarious. I was actually surprised about how much my life had changed since I started working here. My grades had improved, since I wasn't always worried about losing my girlfriend if we didn't go out. I had practically stopped drinking and focused on staying fit and looking my best. It surprised me how little I drank now that I was working as a bartender. I guess seeing how much some people drank made me not want to drink as much.

I was so relaxed about everything that even walking in on customers' sex acts in the bathrooms or employee sex acts in the back area didn't phase me anymore. As a joke, I had even carried on a lengthy conversation with the lead bartender, Anthony, as his boyfriend sucked him off in the back. Anthony loved telling people that story. I got the feeling that the other employees had begun inviting their boyfriends to the club just to get involved in a sex act where I might see. The employees who were dating other employees joined in too. Having to ask two exotic dancers to move one foot to their right or left so I could get into my locker as one ass-fucked the other was an interesting situation, but they had been smiling and joking about it that I had guessed they were just messing with me.

I was even looking forward to the extra money I would make at the upcoming private party. The party was actually themed as a Roman orgy. The parties were always scheduled at least a month in advance and to get in everyone had to present a recent negative STD blood test at the door. Also to get into this party you had to be in some form of ancient Roman costume: gladiator, legionnaire, toga, slave, etc. While on normal nights no sexual acts were allowed anywhere but in the "Fun House." On this night, everywhere was open to play.

I chose a slave costume consisting of a cut-up white bedsheet wrapped around me to resemble underwear and a slave collar with a chain leash. When employees saw me, they all loved it and threatened to pull my sheet away at a random opportunity. John and the other bouncers were the only ones not in costume. The other bartenders were likewise scantily clad. As the party got started, I laughed, played around, and joked with the other bartenders and customers as things got started. I figured things wouldn't start heating up until 10 pm at least. No one wanted to tire themselves out before the all-out orgy started.

One great thing about working here was how clean everyone was and how much people cleaned up after themselves. The first time I helped Tim, another bartender, clean up the "Fun House," I had expected to find cum on every surface and used condoms strewn everywhere. But there was nothing! We just emptied the trash bags, wiped down the couches with wet wipes (though I never saw any stains), and pushed a broom across the floor (that picked up nothing busy dust). When I commented on this, Tim had laughed and said that gay guys aren't usually slobs or disgusting. Most take a lot of pride in their own appearance and general hygiene. These guys know that if they act nasty or otherwise turn off a guy they're interested in, that guy could literally turn around and find a replacement who isn't a slob. I nodded at this and admitted that I had begun to groom myself more to keep up with the rest of them, so as to keep my good tips coming.

As the night kicked off, it got pretty wild. I saw things that I had never expected to ever read about, let alone see. Though the employee still didn't get involved in the actual sex acts, we would cheer the customers on and offer encouragement and suggestions. All in all, I had a great time with the other bartenders and even started a line when we let customers pay to take shots out of our belly buttons. Mark gave all three of us a $300 bonus each for making so much money with that scheme. After the last customer left, we cleaned up, and we all collapsed into chairs, we all came out making at least triple what we usually made in one night (not counting the bartenders' bonuses).

As we changed clothes for our drives home, I didn't think anything about stripping along with everyone else to put on some actual clothes. As we changed, there was the usual grab-ass behavior and dick jokes, but we were all so tired that none of us really had our hearts in it. Surprisingly, though I was extremely exhausted once I got home, I wasn't able to fall asleep until I jerked off. I really wasn't overly interested in any specific porn in particular, but I finally finished during a particularly enthusiastic blowjob scene that reminded me of tonight's frivolities. I then was able to fall asleep with ease.

The next few weeks passed without incident and I finally acquiesced to Mark's repeated request for me to spend a night in one of the elevated dance cages. Mark provided me with a pair of tight black latex assless shorts and a black latex chest harness. The shorts had side zippers for easy removal, along with the standard front zipper and button. I wore a pair of my own black boots to complete the outfit. I had to admit, the shorts felt amazing against my skin and I actually forgot they were assless after a while. I danced to the music as best as I could and moved my body into erotic and sexual poses throughout the night. By the end of the night, I had made a little more money than I would have bartending, but I was exhausted.

I danced about once a week after that, but for the most part stuck to bartending, though I did ask Mark where he got the shorts and how much they were, thinking that I might make some better tips if I wore them when I was behind the bar too. Me and the other bartenders sold body shots on nights when it was really lively and always made a lot more than usual. This Saturday was another private party that promised to be even wilder than the Roman orgy. The party was part auction and part raffle. Anyone including employees, could put themselves up for auction. The winning bidder could then make use of his prize at the club. Any meetings off club grounds were completely optional. The raffle was much the same, but was completely blind. The participants had their names written on a piece of paper and the customer paid a hefty price to pick from the bowl. The same stipulations applied to the raffle.

I was a little nervous about putting my name in the bowl or entering the auction, but everyone said that I had to. They said that I was sure to receive a blowjob out of it and that I wouldn't have to do anything. Anthony added, "Unless you want to."

I was conflicted. It was going to be good money. I wouldn't actually have to do anything. Plus I hadn't had a blowjob or had sex since my breakup, months ago. This could also be fun. I had come to enjoy flirting and playing around without having to worry about screwing up and not getting laid. Boy, could I use a blowjob. Mark said I was sure to sell more raffles and get higher bids than most because I was still in the "untouched" category, much to everyone's annoyance. John assured me he'd look out for me if I started getting weirded out. I finally agreed to enter the raffle and then see how things went before I decided on the auction.

There would also be various other games throughout the night: sex dice, kinky sex acts drawn from a bucket on your chosen partner, and various other sex-themed party games. It sounded fun and I was really looking forward to the money.

On the night of the party, I arrived early with the other employees. I decided on the tight black latex assless shorts and black boots. My choice of clothes got a round of applause, several spanks on my bare ass, and numerous offers of sexual favors. Unlike the main-stage dancers, the bartenders and cage dancers didn't bother with baby oil. The main stage dancers weren't on stage the whole night, so they could put on more oil and freshen up as the night wore on. The bartenders and cage dancers were pretty much out there all night. We went with a little bit of spray cologne and then just did our best to stay presentable throughout the night.

As I helped the other two bartenders get set up I wondered if I could really go through with the raffle. I had never actually done anything sexual with a guy. The other employees and I had messed around and goofed off, but nothing that I would consider sexual, more like guys horsing around and having fun. I wondered what the guys that came here actually found attractive. Sure, I could acknowledge the guys that worked here and a lot of the customers were attractive, but I didn't find myself being attracted to them. Plenty of the guys here were buff and cut after long hours in the gym. We all groomed ourselves until we were practically baby-smooth. No one working here had any body hair except the bouncers and Mark, I supposed. I knew the bartenders and dancers didn't have a hair on their bodies below our eyelashes. I had found it a little weird shaving my whole body until the guys suggested I get waxed where they went. Now I found it second nature to be so smooth and found it weird when my hair grew back.

Looking around at the other guys, I knew I had more in common with the other bartenders and cage dancers or the "Twinks" as everyone else called us (who were all smaller guys and definitely appeared to be the bottoms of a gay coupling) than I did with Mark, the bouncers, and the stage dancers (who all had bodybuilder looks and all carried themselves like tops). I laughed to myself when I realized that I was using so much gay male slang even when I was thinking. I certainly knew what I didn't find attractive: hairy bodies, beards, beer guts, etc. I had to be on my best behavior and force a smile on my face whenever we had a "Bear night."