Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Puma Swede attacks Tampa! (NSFW)

Posted By on Tue, Jun 26, 2012 at 12:28 PM

Puma Swede
  • brianjamesgallery.com
  • Puma Swede
Shirtless, I gripped the stripper pole on the main stage at Deja Vu. Puma Swede stood behind me, poised to do some damage with her whip and her formidable F cup breasts. She pushed me against the pole and unbuckled my belt. I flinched as though I was about to receive a public prostate exam.

"Shhh," Puma purred in my ear with her Swedish accent. "I'll only take your pants down a little."

This was the first of many lies Puma would tell me Saturday night.

I met the Scandinavian porn star less than an hour before in the "champagne room" that doubled as her dressing room.

"You going to write something good about me," she said. At the time I assumed this was a question.

"Depends," I said, feigning confidence. "Are you going to give me something worth writing about?"

In retrospect, I realize the stupidity of challenging a woman who travels with an extensive collection of whips and probing devices.

Puma studied me over her cigarette and said, "You will come with me on stage."

I didn't really consent to going on stage, but it didn't matter. She wasn't asking.

"Just don't rape my face," I said, assuming the invitation was a result of my irresistible sex appeal. "I'm too pretty to be abused like that."

Puma punishing the author at Deja Vu
Clutching the stripper pole on stage, I felt Puma jerk down my boxer-briefs, exposing my ass. Before I could protest, she began wailing on me with her whip. I don't mind exposing my shortcomings for the sake of humor, but when it comes to being the butt of a joke, I like to be the one delivering the punch line. With Puma's commanding stage presence, as well as the crowd and the DJ cheering her on, my only move was to grip the pole and take it. At the time the physical pain didn't bother me so much as the question of how I would explain these welts to my wife.

Puma then forced me to lie on the stage floor. She threw off my shoes and started tugging off my jeans. Unlike guys who wear sweatpants to strip clubs to maximize the coefficient of friction (and creep factor), I actually prefer to have a durable layer of denim between strippers and me. Hobbling around a club with a chubby poking through your jeans is awkward enough. Blasting a boner on stage is the kind of thing that causes posttraumatic stress disorder.

Puma won the battle of the bulge, tossing my pants aside with what remained of my dignity. My brain processed little of what happened next. All of my concentration focused on retaining my underwear to prevent the years of therapy it would take to overcome the memory of a crowd of dudes laughing as Puma tortured my naked genitals, which would look miniature in comparison to tits as imposing as the Swiss Alps.

Carmen Valentina and Puma Swede
Off stage I quickly retreated into the security of my clothes. Fellow VNA performers Vicky Vette and Carmen Valentina took my place on stage. The scene of these porn stars kissing while their topless chests wrestled for position helped erase the memory of me getting manhandled. Unfortunately the power of hot, naked women has its limitations. Paul Allen, the head of NightMoves Magazine and AllAdultNetwork.tv, came over to assure me that his wife, Tracy, captured my display on video and that his online followers were going to love the footage.

The club manager, Mark, even came over to comment on the free show I had given his customers.

"Maybe this time you'll remember to mention Deja Vu in your story," he said, smiling. "I mean, I would hate for photos of your little striptease to end up in the pages of a rival paper."

My photographer friend, Brian, handed Mark his business card and promised him all the embarrassing photos of me he needed.

"What?" Brian said when I glared at him. "That's what happens when you don't pay me to shoot your events?"

Back at the seating area beside her dressing room, Puma assured me that I wasn't the worst volunteer she has had. The previous day one of her victims plastered the inside of his pants while she was teasing him on stage. It was becoming increasingly clear to me that Puma gets her jollies by dominating weaker men. Then and there I resolved not to let Puma make me her bitch for the night—that I would have the last laugh.

"I bet you would have no idea how to handle a woman like me that's taller than you," she said.

"If I was wearing stripper heels, we'd be the same height," I said, trying to negate her height advantage.

She made me try on her heels. My feet wouldn't fit in the shoes.

"I'm too wide," I said, grinning.

"That's cute," she said. "I bet that's the first time you've ever said that."

I wanted to argue, but she had first-hand evidence to the contrary.

Puma Swede in a dance battle with the author
Though I have no idea how it happened, soon we were engaged in an old school dance off. I'm fairly confident I won the battle, but no one really cared about my superior dance skills as Puma was completely naked.

When I sat down to regroup, Puma pounced on me, using my head as an ass scratcher for accessing those hard to reach places. Then she wiped a finger over the top of my lip and said she had given me a Dirty Sanchez. I didn't bother arguing that, had her finger actually been in someone's butt, which I was fairly confident it had not—at least in the previous five minutes—such an act would technically be called a "Jersey Turnpike."

After her second stage show, Puma led a group of us in an assault on the liquor reserves of Deja Vu's sister bar, Hammerhead Harry's. There, Puma continued her systematic domination of me. She constantly knocked me in the balls and informed the various Deja Vu dancers I tried to flirt with at the bar that my genitals are the size of a gerbil's. To console me, Puma said that if I weren't married, she would give me a charity fuck; she had the perfect strap-on to use on me. At one point she even bent me over and shoved her hand down the back of my pants in attempt to make me her human puppet.

If there is a lesson to be learned from all this, it's that you should never try to out party a porn star as wild as Puma Swede. You will lose. You will lose your shirt, your pants, and quite possibly your anal virginity.

See x-rated content of Puma at PumaSwede.com and follow her on Twitter at @PumaSwede

All photos provided courtesy of Brian James and BrianJamesGallery.com

Follow Alfie on Twitter or Facebook and email him here

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