Confessions of a Male Stripper: Revealing behind-the-scenes look at the Dreamboys’ show

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As the music blasts out, a sea of frenzied women chant “take it off” as the chiselled guy on stage prepares to whip off his final item of clothing – a Union flag.

The screaming 1,500-strong crowd in the sold-out club is a heady mix of hen parties, booze and fancy dress and the atmosphere is hysterical.

But for the Dreamboys – Britain’s answer to the Chippendales – this is just a normal Saturday night.

There is not a greasy barnet or G-string in sight and with their boyband good looks and choreographed dance routines, they are like One Direction… but with a lot more muscle.

I am in a £149 ringside seat around the dance floor, surrounded by giant inflatable willies the audience have brought along with them.

A group of 20 hens are dressed as sailors and raring to go.

The not-so-blushing bride Sarah Young, 31, tells me she wants “to see their penises or I’ll ask for my money back”.

In fact, during the show only one man actually goes the Full Monty.

Tonight, it is Tyson Brown, a 31-year-old former account ­executive with the rather telling nickname, the Aubergine.

But there is a whole show to get through before that, and after some lewd banter from Sophie, the warm-up drag queen, it begins.

Bursting on stage dressed as firemen there’s not a muscle in sight and it is more like a Diversity dance routine than anything else.

But soon enough the tops come off and the girls go crazy.

The boys work their magic, straddling gob-smacked hens. Some grab the chance to touch the boys’ rippling six packs.

When one of the Dreamboys comes over to me and sits on my lap I don’t know where to look, I haven’t had nearly enough to drink, unlike most of the women around me.

With the boys finally down to their briefs they suddenly stop , scoop up all their clothes and run off the stage to a chorus of angry boos.

For the next hour there are more dance routines to chart tracks and cheesier numbers such as I need a Hero, with the boys dressed as pilots.

But the most the girls get is the odd bum flash, revealing the tiniest muscly buttocks I have ever seen. Without a willy in sight, the ladies are baying for more than just dance moves.

ust in time, the final act is announced – Tyson. He walks on stage dressed like a commando, carrying a holdall.As soon as the bag drops to the ground the real craziness begins.Moving around the dance floor, he thrusts towards me. I am truly horrified. Then from his bag he pulls out baby oil and an enormous sex toy that he brandishes in one hen’s face.Soon the trousers are ripped off and, to the sound of Prince’s Purple Rain, naked but for the Union flag, Tyson squeezes soapy water over himself with a sponge.

My ears are ringing from the screams but it is nothing compared to when he finally goes the Full Monty. Darting around the stage giving everyone a real eyeful, he is like a man possessed. The audience are euphoric.

Meanwhile, I am sending out my fiercest “don’t come over here” vibes.

Luckily, I am saved when Tyson finally leaves the stage. It is the end of the show and, like popstars, the Dreamboys are called up on stage one more time to take a bow and do their back flips, handstands and press-ups.

It’s all over, but there is still a buzz in the air from the thrilled crowd. I don’t dare tell them I have already met the boys in the flesh… lots of flesh.

Chatting to them before the show, I have never been surrounded by so many bare torsoes.

But when I call them strippers they correct me – it is striptease.

The brainchild of former exotic dancer David Richards, the ­self-proclaimed Simon Cowell of the stripping world, he started the Dreamboys in 1997, with just £250.

Now worth an estimated £2.5million, he manages 90 Dreamboys, with eight clubs in London, Brighton, Bournemouth, Birmingham, Cardiff, Edinburgh, Newcastle and Manchester.

David says: “I wanted to create a group of guys that had a boy band kind of image. You wouldn’t look at them walking down the street and think ‘he looks like a stripper’.

“If you fancy just one of the Dreamboys then I’ve done my job right.”

The shows are open to men too and at one recent show there was a lady celebrating her 83rd birthday.

David says: “She was loving it. She stayed at the end and she had her picture taken with the boys and was chatting them up.”

Peter Carter, 27, who has been a Dreamboy since January, says: “The idea is a bit of a striptease with a bit of dance. You’re not just coming to see guys get their kit off, you’re coming to see a show.”

Tomorrow, when behind-the-scenes documentary Confessions of a Male Stripper airs on Channel 4, David, 32, hopes it will take the Dreamboy brand into the stratosphere.

And if the crowd’s reaction tonight is anything to go by, he will not be disappointed. It is clear that David runs a tight ship, with strict rules on groupies and the boys’ appearance.

He says: “They aren’t allowed to give out their mobile numbers, Twitter or Facebook. Also, if they aren’t in shape, they don’t get to go on stage.”

The guys may be crystal clear on the boundaries but the same cannot always be said for the hens and birthday parties that mostly make up the massive audiences.

David says: “Some of the girls think buying a ticket to the Dreamboys means they’ve bought the nicest bit of fillet steak in the world and they’re going to demolish it.”

All the boys have a story to tell. Italian stallion Zane Hopkins, 30, says: “This industry opens your eyes to the female population. It’s like some hens are trying to break up their marriage before they get down the aisle.

“When I first started a lady rushed the stage and grabbed me so hard I couldn’t walk for two weeks.”

But sometimes their routines are just too tempting for the crowds, especially the Towels show.

With the boys just wearing towels, three women are brought up on stage, sat down and handcuffed.

Lotan Carter, 24, who started stripping to pay for dance classes, says: “It’s the most personal part of the show.

“It’s nose to nose, but one isn’t actually a nose, if you know what I mean.

“It’s totally cheated, you turn the girl’s head to your thigh but some do try to cross the line. I’ve walked off stage before when one’s tried to touch me.”

And in January this year things got so out of hand at Exmouth Pavilion that David had to take to the stage.

David – who hung up his tighty whities two years ago – reveals: “The audience rushed the stage.

security couldn’t cope with the girls. Then one half of the room had a fight with the other.

“I said on the microphone, ‘You guys really need to get out more’.”

Bizarre incidents like these led David in February this year to insure the Dreamboys’ tackle for £96million.

But one thing that cannot be insured is their relationships.

Many of the handsome Dreamboys are single or admit to tense moments when they come home from work with bite marks and bruises.

Zane explains: “That can be an ­argument starter. No one wants their man to come home with scratches all over their body.”

The Dreamboys earn around £1,200 a week from seven shows with many of them doing strippagram work to boost their pay packet.

Some even have day jobs as builders, electricians and gym instructors. But for most of them, nothing compares to the buzz of being on stage.

Zane, a former sales executive for a photocopier company, goes on: “I sat behind a desk for eight hours a day for years.

“Making a great deal was nothing compared to the feeling of 1,500 girls screaming at you.

“You won’t get the same job ­satisfaction anywhere else.”

And as the music fades, the bulging six packs are covered up and the pandemonium begins to ease off, it seems the ­audience are pretty satisfied as well.

Hundreds of them begin to troop out, grinning and laughing as they go, after clearly having had a fabulous night. And I am one of them, even if I am not sure what made it so entertaining.

Unsurprisingly, founder David seems to have the answer.

And maybe he is right when he says: “The Dreamboys is The X Factor with something added – it’s the sex factor.”

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