"Adio" to Dubrovnik A tale of two refugees Full Monty Parlor Games Share My Fire Car - the relationship-saving device Going Straight West A year to expirience, a lifetime to understand Meeting Vuk Cultural insensitivity Sex in Serbia Buvljak experience What's news in Yugoslavia? part II What's news in Yugoslavia? Trust issues: Yugoslav Banks Hosting, Serbian style Flat-hunting Staying legally in Yugoslavia Welcome to Belgrade Border crossings The Paper Chase: Single - entry visas

An outbreak of hedonism in Belgrade has erupted, read last week's New York Times, describing Serbia's most revered porno star, accompanied by her lover -- a short-haired women brandishing a pistol.

With the breakup of Yugoslavia, social taboos such as pornography and ethnic hatreds have been destroyed and both phenomenon continue to flourish in the country's shaky political and economic environment.

The sex industry, claims the Times, linked to Yugoslavia's most dangerous crime circles, has emerged almost as a symbol of new freedom in post-Tito Yugoslavia. In a frightening testimony by a famous sex industry star who has been repeatedly threatened at gunpoint by a club owner proves, the mafia-controlled sex industry sets its own standards outside the constraints of the country's law enforcement.

Although possibly more contaminated with thugs and guns, the breaking down of sexual mores is not only limited to Yugoslavia. Budapest's outer boulevard is dotted with seedy nightclubs like the Tiamo Bar, which promises a sneak peek of a Leszbi-Show for 50 forints. One English language newspapers in Hungary has a half-page of classified ads offering Paprika Girls, Hebrew Speaking Girls and New Student Girls. "I can't think of anything you want to do that isn't here," teases one ad.

When it comes to the sex industry, it's a man's world where women are treated as objects of lust and desire for the pleasure of men.

From magazines sold unwrapped at the local kiosk to a downtown titty-bar, there's never a question that a woman will expose her most private parts. Though still underground and hardly discussed, women in Central Europe are also potential customers for men's bodies and as a recent experience proved, there are a few men out there in this region who want to show off what they were endowed with.
The male side of the sex industry, while only starting to receive attention in the West, is never treated as exploitative or dangerous (has anybody ever seen a Chippendale dancers with a black eye?) and hardly involves nudity. For the most part, it is considered merely as a fun night out for the gals.

Female audiences are given the opportunity to view a smooth, defined chest and muscular buttocks but nudity is a rare privelege. The pinnacle of excitement is usually contained the flirtation the dancer provides members of the audience. Even a little flesh exposed sends a female audience into an orgasmic frenzy.

I asked one young man, a self-described "exhibitionist," about his work as a male stripper for private parties in the Czech Republic during our shared train ride.

"I don't do it for the money," he said staring me squarely. "I do it because I enjoy myself doing it."
But how do the Czech and German women react to a man dancing for them suggestively wearing nothing but a g-string?
Unlike a woman's breasts or genetalia, a man's penis, in the traditional sense, isn't something we are encouraged to really gaze upon. We are almost encouraged to feel disgust or shame, not turned-on. Clearly, those ideas are changing and in Central Europe, the exhibitionist said about a third of the females in the audience usually react "favorably."
"It's liberation for them," he said.

"How far does it go?" I asked. "Do you ever have sex with these women?"
"Oh sometimes there are private masturbation parties," he said, "but I maintain some distance."
His lover accepts his exhibitionism but in conservative Czech society, his practice remains so discrete that he doesn't perform in his home town. The purpose of today's trip was to arrange some business for the group of male stripper he represents, in a town 100 km away from home.

There were more questions to ask, but I took leave of him to get myself a cup of coffee. On the way back, I recalled something my Sarajevan friend told me, "Always wear lipstick," she said. Instinctively, I smeared the bright burgundy color on my lips as if I were preparing to leave an impression.

When I returned with my coffee, I took a good look at the young man sitting across from me. His looks were typically Czech. Blonde hair, blue eyes and chiseled, Slavic features. Very clean cut, I thought. He could have been on a business trip with his tweed jacket and briefcase. His English was impeccable and he expressed himself intelligently on topics such as Czech position on NATO membership and the new challenges facing the economy in light of the recent government scandals.

But clearly, the man offered more than just a good conversation. Eager to share his secret with me, he pulled out of his briefcase two pairs of g-string underwear, clearly used for his performances: a multicolored pair and a plain white latex variety, with an extended piece of fabric to exaggerate his attributes.

"This is obviously a joke,"
With this gesture, the implications became clear. Up until now, the topic had been purely academic and sterile. Surely he wasn't actually going to...
"Would you like to see my performance," he asked, smiling at me with big eyes.

There we were on a train at 10:00 in the morning, speeding through the wooded Czech countryside toward Prague. We were alone in a small compartment with no train conductors in site.. I hadn't had any sleep the night before and I was feeling delirious.

What if I were to refuse this unique experience? The scenario was bizarre, yet the man didn't appear threatening or harmful in any way. On the contrary, he was quite affable -somebody I could even introduce to mom. But most importantly, here it was: the stranger-on-a-train fantasy right before my eyes. I just might have to reapply lipstick. Such an opportunity would be hard to repeat in this lifetime.

"Go ahead," I said. "I would like to see it."
He stepped out briefly to put on his g-string and drew the curtains shut. When he came back, he looked around the compartment, obviously sizing up how he would utilize the compact space.

"Aren't you worried somebody seeing this."
"Don't worry, he said. There are no conductors for another 200 km."
Obviously, he was well acquainted with the route but perhaps this was a unique experience for him too.
He sat down on the seat and pulled down his trousers to reveal a the lower half of his body, which he began to gyrate seductively. With no music to accompany his performance, it was uncomfortably silent so my first reaction was to cheer him on and gasp with excitement.

Encouraged by my positive response, he surprised me by pulling off what little material he had covering his private parts to reveal a fully erect penis. I hadn't expected "The Full Monty" and I gave him a looked of awe.His self-confidence was not out of line here as the size of him was well above normal. Fully practiced in his movements, he was able to maneuver his instrument in several various directions and rhythms. Then he stood up and tucked it between his muscular buttocks, quickly releasing it into the air like a springboard.

"Now I understand why you do this," I commented, feeling a flush of heat come over me.

"Would you like to touch it?" he said. My affirmative decision came quicker this time. I quickly transformed from a voyeur to a participant in the performance.

We were approaching his stop. The encounter had finished. I stuck my head out the window and let the winter air cool me down. We sat there for a final moment, giving each other grins of incredulity. Then I realized something...we hadn't properly introduced ourselves. We might remain truly anonymous.

"It was really nice to meet you," he said taking my hand and then gave his name.

"Yes, it was," I said, repeating mine.

We shook hands again, as if we had only exchanged merely words and off he went to do his business in a town with a name I can't remember.

by Jennifer C. Brown    

To click here...            Talk back index...

Your previous talk back on the subject above:
N.Y. Times: America's propaganda mouthpiece. - Lawrence Shoup
How is business going ? - Jimmy Jones
your English - Milan M.
BRAVO DANILOVICU-DEJANE - ALEKSANDAR MOJIC
Amazed by number of replies Jennifer generates - Marko Popovic
Uros Dresevic - Dresev Uros
THE FULL MONTY - BOBBY SCOTT
A couple of words from a Czech ... - Iva Korinkova
Surviving Belgrade - Byron Bates
Full Monty - Byron Bates
overall - Dejan Danilovic
culture in Yugoslavia - Victor Olvera
write more - Aleksandra Sreckovic
surviving belgrade - vladimir vujanovich
hello again - igor igor
Compliments - Uros Dresevic
good for you. - Some other time