Confessions of a Dangerous Doll

[SevenMuse]

Confessions of a Dangerous Doll: The Private Stripper​

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Part 1 — The Dance (Anticipation & Tease)​

The hotel room glows in golden light, the bass of a sultry song thrumming through the air. You’re seated, waiting.


Then I appear—heels clicking, plaid mini skirt hugging my hips, blouse tied loose at the waist, garters pulling tight against my thighs. My eyes lock on yours, lips painted red and wicked.


“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”


I move with the music, hips circling, fingers tracing over lace and skin. I straddle your lap but don’t touch—hovering, letting the heat between us rise until it’s unbearable.


I kiss you once. Soft, deep, perfect—then pull away with a smirk.


“Sit back,” I purr. “I’m just getting started.”

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Part 2 — The Strip (Escalation)​

The music deepens, heavy and slow. I rise to my feet, body rolling like a wave as I reach for my blouse. One button at a time, I undo it—not in a rush, but deliberate, watching your eyes drink me in.


The blouse slips off my shoulders, revealing lace that clings to my curves. I twirl, skirt lifting just enough to flash the thong beneath. The garter straps strain as I bend, arching for your view.


My hands run over my own skin, pulling the skirt higher, inch by inch, until there’s nothing left to hide.


I kneel between your legs, nails grazing up your thighs, my smile pure sin.


“You like watching,” I whisper, “but touching costs extra.”

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Part 3 — The Fantasy (The Payoff)​

By now, the music owns me. I climb onto your lap, this time pressing down, grinding slow and steady as my hair falls around us. My lips drag across your neck, my nails digging just enough to make you gasp.


The plaid skirt is gone. The blouse is gone. Only lace, garters, and heels remain as I move like the fantasy you paid for.


But it’s not just a show anymore. The way I kiss you, the way I grind, the way I let your heat mix with mine—it’s raw, unfiltered, dangerous.


“You don’t just get a private stripper,” I breathe against your ear. “You get me. All of me. Until the music stops.”


The lights dim, the bass grows louder, and my body never stops moving. Your own personal stripper fantasy has only just begun—and I’m the Dangerous Doll who will ruin you for anyone else.

 

[SevenMuse]

Confessions of a Dangerous Doll​

The Things I Do on Away Shoots — Pike National Forest Edition


The things I do on away photo shoots… LOL. You’d think it was all posing and pretty lights. But out in Pike National Forest, with the fire crackling and shadows dancing, I couldn’t resist turning it into something more dangerous.


That tiny red bikini was a setup from the start. A bow in the front that didn’t stand a chance. I sat down by the campfire, leaned back, and gave the knot a little tug. Just like that, I was topless, laughing at the gasps, pretending to cover up while letting everyone stare.


But teasing wasn’t enough. I wanted to feel the wild air on my skin, to let the forest see me as much as the camera did. Strings slipped lower, hips rolling against the log I was sitting on, and before long I was naked in the firelight. A sexy nymph caught between heat and shadow, dripping with sweat and desire.


I don’t know what turned me on more—knowing the camera was clicking, or wondering if anyone else camping nearby could hear me moan. Either way, it wasn’t long before I was being touched, kissed, pressed against rough bark, fucked like the forest had claimed me.


That’s the thing about away shoots. You never really know if you’re going home with pretty pictures… or a dirty story you’ll never forget.

 

[hugh_jarce69]

Your writing is as beautiful & irresistible as you are

 

[SevenMuse]

Confessions of a Dangerous Doll – Pumpkin Patch Edition​

“I went wandering through the autumn woods today, chasing fallen leaves and cool breezes… and stumbled upon the perfect pumpkin.


Somewhere between carrying it over my shoulder and feeling the sun on my skin, most of my clothes mysteriously disappeared. Oops.


Now it’s just me, a pumpkin, and a little bit of lace — Mother Nature’s idea of a Halloween costume. Do you mind? Or do you like your treats with a little trick inside?”


#SevenAfterDark #PumpkinSpiceAndEverythingNice #TrickOrTease #FallFantasy #ConfessionsOfADangerousDoll

 

[hugh_jarce69]

would love a little trick inside my treat

 

[SevenMuse]

“Where confidence flirts with confession — long legs, little secrets, and power that always looks better in heels.”

 

[SevenMuse]

SevenMuse — Colorado showgirl turned artist’s muse.
I live in lace, light, and just enough danger to keep things interesting.


Yes, I’m a stripper. No, you can’t take me home — unless you tip better.
I’m a licensed nude performer and erotic artist, telling the truth in rhythm and style.
Every confession is part performance, part diary — and entirely real.


True confessions, not offers.

 

[SpicyBean99]

Ah, what is that I sense…. Oh…. a familiar scent indeed... ChatGPT!

It's almost a shame that a writer, on literotica, would use an Al that's too prude to handle the really, naughty and crude erotic descriptions.

You're missing out on all the super fun and debaucherous descriptions.

P.S. The formatting gave it away.

Maybe credit your co-author next time?

Yours sincerely,

A word slut.

 

[SevenMuse]

would love a little trick inside my treat

Halloween is a few weeks away. Patience.

 

[SevenMuse]

White Heat — A Downtown Dare
Author: Seven After Dark
Tags: exhibitionist, sensual, tease, show & tell, sheer dress, confidence, control
Series: Confessions of a Dangerous Doll

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It wasn’t just the dress — it was the way it moved.


Thin, white, and soft enough to make every step down those city escalators feel like a dare. The air touched more than the fabric did, and I loved it.


People stared. Some tried not to. Some didn’t even bother hiding it. The stairs, the reflections in shop windows, the way the light hit me from below — all of it became a game.


I’d pause just long enough to adjust a strap, to remind them I knew exactly what they were thinking.*


It wasn’t about being naked — it was about control. Letting them watch, but only as much as I chose to give. A slow, sensual show-and-tell for anyone lucky enough to be there when I walked by.


White Heat — confidence, control, and the thrill of being seen.

 

[SevenMuse]

The Entertainer — A Seven After Dark Feature​

There’s a moment before the lights find me when everything feels suspended—half breath, half heartbeat. The chatter in the room fades to a hum. The music coils in my spine like something alive. And then I move.


The first step isn’t about the heels or the rhythm; it’s about claiming space. Every sway of hip, every turn of wrist, every glance over my shoulder is deliberate. A conversation without words. I don’t perform for them; I draw them in until they forget the difference between looking and feeling.


Confidence has a sound—it’s the hush that falls when I lean into the spotlight. It’s the slow intake of breath from somewhere in the dark. That’s the real currency here: attention. The way it pools around me, charged and alive, as if the entire room has agreed to exhale in time with my body.


Some nights, I’m a dream they think they can buy. Other nights, I’m a mirror—showing them what they want, what they fear, what they’ll never quite touch. Either way, I’m in control.


Because that’s what it means to be the entertainer.
It’s not about undressing; it’s about revealing.
And the most dangerous part of the show is that I’m always telling the truth.

 

[SevenMuse]

The Showgirl — A Seven After Dark Feature​

By the time the curtain rises, she’s already awake inside me—the part that knows how to turn a look into a spell and a heartbeat into rhythm.
She’s light and shadow, glitter and grit. The Showgirl doesn’t ask for permission; she walks onstage as if the floor itself belongs to her.


Every move is choreography and instinct tangled together. The lights chase her curves, the bass pulses like blood, and the crowd leans closer, caught somewhere between worship and wanting.
They’ll never know her name, but they’ll remember how she made them feel—how the air thickened, how their drinks warmed in their hands.


Underneath the shimmer, though, she’s more than sequins and spotlight. She’s strategy. She’s survival.
She reads the room in seconds—the whisper in the back, the jealous glance, the one who can’t look away.
The Showgirl feeds on that attention, bends it, makes it art.


Because the truth is, this isn’t just performance. It’s translation.
Desire becomes movement.
Power becomes posture.
Fantasy becomes currency.


And when the final song fades and the lights soften, she smiles to herself, knowing she’s given them something they didn’t expect:
not just the body they came for, but the mystery that follows them home.

 

[SevenMuse]

The Stripper — A Seven After Dark Feature​

After the music fades and the crowd empties out, there’s a different kind of silence that settles in—a soft hum that only the stage knows. Glitter clings to my skin like memory. The floor is still warm from all the footsteps, all the stories that happened here tonight.


People think stripping is about what you take off. It’s not.
It’s about what you reveal—what you decide they get to see, what you hold back for yourself. It’s performance and psychology wrapped in lace and light.


Up there, I’m an illusion built on truth. I can turn a breath into a pause, a glance into currency, a smile into control. Every man thinks he’s the one who’s seeing me; every woman who watches knows she isn’t. That’s the power of it. It’s not shame—it’s authorship.


When I step off the stage, the world feels too quiet, too bright. I wash off the makeup, slip out of the costume, but the confidence lingers—the kind that comes from owning the gaze instead of fearing it.


They call me a stripper like it’s a label.
I wear it like a title.


Because I know what most people don’t:
It’s not about being naked.
It’s about being seen.

 

[SevenMuse]

Bikini. CrossFit. Tulum.
Sweat, sunlight, and strength — sexy is a lifestyle.
#SevenAfterDark #TulumVibes #BikiniModel #FitnessMuse #AfterDarkEnergy #StrongIsSexy #SwimwearModel #TropicalFit #ModelLife #LegsForDays

 

[hugh_jarce69]

beautiful

 

[SevenMuse]

beautiful

My website goes live next week A lot more content there. If anyone is a fan of public flashing they will definitely be happy!

 

[hugh_jarce69]

mmm, yeah send me a link please

 

[SevenMuse]

Confessions of a Dangerous Doll: Campus Tease​

Late for class, right on time for trouble.​

I told myself I’d keep things simple this semester — no distractions, no drama, no detours down hallways that lead to trouble. But then again, trouble seems to know my name by now. It follows me like the faint scent of perfume in the air after I’ve left a room.


There’s something intoxicating about the rhythm of a campus morning — coffee cups clinking, laughter echoing off brick walls, that half-dreamy moment before reality catches up. I slide into it like I belong there — plaid skirt swaying, notebook in hand, a secret smile that says I know exactly what I’m doing. The world expects discipline; I prefer improvisation.

“Maybe I’m not here to learn lessons — maybe I’m here to teach a few of my own.”

Maybe it’s the way the sunlight hits my hair or the sharp click of my heels that makes heads turn. Or maybe it’s the energy — that quiet confidence that comes from knowing you’re being watched and enjoying every second of it. I’ve learned there’s an art to the tease: it’s not about revealing too much, it’s about making someone wonder what it would feel like to know you better.


I linger at the edge of the courtyard, pretending to read, though my eyes are busy catching reflections in the windows. Every move feels choreographed — the slow cross of a leg, the soft tuck of hair behind my ear, the slight arch of my back as I reach for a pen. Nothing forced. Nothing fake. Just a moment suspended between innocence and intention.


By afternoon, the air grows heavy and warm. The library hums with whispers and tapping keyboards, and I lose myself in the hush of it all. My thoughts drift — not to textbooks or due dates, but to the quiet rebellion of being exactly who I am. Maybe I’m not here to blend in. Maybe I’m here to remind people that curiosity is still alive.


So I smile to myself, close my book, and rise from my seat. Another day, another confession.
After all… I never said I wanted to be a good girl.

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#SevenAfterDark #ConfessionsOfADangerousDoll #CampusTease #PlaidAndPlayful #StudyBreak #PinupVibes #ArtistMuse #DangerousDoll #BackToClass #SevenMuse

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​

 

[SevenMuse]

“I lean on the counter and smile like I’ve got a secret. Denim riding low, lights soft, everything still — except the air. Sometimes the most dangerous thing you can do is nothing at all.”

 

[SevenMuse]

Sweet Confessions in the Kitchen

The scent of vanilla filled the air as I leaned against the counter, whisk in hand and trouble on my mind.
Every swirl of frosting was a little secret—something I wasn’t supposed to taste, but always do.
After all, the best recipes are the ones you make with your hands… and just a touch of temptation.


Tags: #SevenBakesCakes #ConfessionsOfADangerousDoll #WhiskMeAway #SugarAndSin #PinupFantasy

 

[SevenMuse]

Confessions of a Dangerous Doll: Red Tide​

The water was cold.
That kind of cold that makes your skin come alive — where every ripple feels like a secret being whispered across your body.


They said it was a fitness shoot.
I called it surrender.


The red bikini was already trouble; the kind that catches sunlight and stares. It clung tighter with every wave, each one daring me to stay still while the ocean had its way.
But stillness has never been my thing.


I move.
For the camera. For the moment. For the part of me that needs to be seen.
Every pose a confession, every splash a promise.


There’s power in that — knowing you can turn something as wild and untamed as the sea into your stage.
And as the waves crash and the sand sticks, I smile. Because for a few breaths, the world feels small enough to hold between my hands — wet, warm, and a little dangerous.


Seven After Dark
“Some tides you don’t fight. You just let them pull you under.”

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sevenafterdark.cuties-sites.com​

#SevenAfterDark #ConfessionsOfADangerousDoll #RedBikiniEnergy #BeachMuse #TulumVibes #SultryAndStrong #OceanFantasy

 

[SevenMuse]

Under the lights, I become legend — all shimmer and precision, no past.
My body tells stories my name never will.

 

[SevenMuse]

The Velvet Rope​

A Stripology Noir by Seven After Dark


The Colorado night hums — low, electric, dangerous.
Seven steps from her matte-black SUV, stilettos striking gravel with the clean rhythm of intent.
The club’s sign burns Velvet Rope in hot pink cursive, a slash of heat against mountain-dark air.
She pauses just long enough to let the light claim her silhouette: long legs, lamé shimmer, dark hair cascading like smoke.
It’s an introduction without words.


Inside, bass throbs like a second pulse.
Perfume, cologne, cigarette haze.
A hand grazes her thigh as she passes. “Seven, baby—”


She doesn’t slow. “Touch the art, pay the gallery.”
The laugh that follows isn’t humor — it’s precision.


Backstage is a different world: mirrors, sequins, murmured ambition.
Seven ignores the noise, focusing instead on the reflection staring back.
Discipline. Stillness. The practiced calm before performance.
She touches the small tattoo along her ribs — VII — a reminder that her name is both number and myth.


“Seven! You’re on in five!”


She meets her own eyes in the mirror. “Tell them to hold their breath.”


The moment the lights find her, she isn’t walking — she’s gliding.
Every motion deliberate, predatory, poised.
Violet light spills down chrome.
Her ascent up the pole is a study in physics and grace, her body tracing equations the crowd will never solve.
A hundred-dollar bill flutters near her ankle. She catches it without breaking rhythm.


When the set ends, applause dissolves into the quiet hum of recovery.
Seven sits before the mirror again — smudged eyeliner, sweat cooling, pulse steadying.
Her phone glows with offers, each one lucrative, transactional.
A message stands out: Your body tells stories mine aches to read. Coffee? No expectations.


She types back, lips curving into a private smile:
Expectations are my currency. Bring cash.


The night stretches thin as dawn bleeds over the city.
For Seven, there’s always another stage, another study.
Control isn’t power — it’s poetry.
And she’s fluent.


By Seven After Dark
Read more confessions and full Stripology archives at
sevenafterdark.cuties-sites.com

 

[SevenMuse]

Confession #38: A Private Centerfold Experience


Satin, lace, and the kind of silence that only exists before surrender.
No stage lights. No crowd. Just the soft shimmer of a silk slip, a veil, and the heat of my breath against the lens.


Every photo in this set feels like a secret whispered too close — sensual, deliberate, and dangerously intimate.


The Private Centerfold experience isn’t about being seen.
It’s about being remembered.


Exclusive series now live for members — sevenafterdark.cuties-sites.com

 

[SevenMuse]

I don’t just model. I perform stillness.
#ArtistMuse #ModelSeven #SevenAfterDark Licensed dancer. Model. Muse.
Glamour, Lingerie, Artistic Nude, and Erotica.
Seven After Dark — sevenafterdark.cuties-sites.com