Love in the Time of Clients at Théâtre Chochotte

If you’ve read my previous column, you already know I’m no stranger to the erotic theatre world. Where a touch of class, a dose of sass, and — dare I say — a cheeky flash of arse coexist in harmony beneath the velvet lights. 

But behind the glitter and the grit lies a reality few get to witness. Erotic dancers, like myself, live at the intersection of performance and intimacy, of fantasy and fatigue. Beyond those red velvet curtains, stories bloom — stories about power, creation and, yes, love.

So this month, I return to pull back that curtain a little further; to talk about romance in the realm of performance and to introduce one of the women I admire most in this world: the unforgettable Belladona.

Whispers and Whips with Belladona

This domina doesn’t smile... I mean really.

Belladona descends the infamous red velvet stairs of the théâtre like a storm wrapped in silk. You’ll know her when you see her: the smoky eye that cuts through the dark, the black bandana tied with defiance, the coiled whip resting like a serpent around her neck.

Whether it’s noon or midnight, Belladona embodies an entire lexicon of desire, the kind written in leather and lace. Her stage presence is an ode to the BDSM register: whips, floggers, nipple clamps, Wartenberg wheels, rope, blindfolds, cuffs. An inventory of control and surrender.

As the guttural notes of songs from Show Me the Body and Princess Nokia pulse through the stage, Belladona transforms her body into a manifesto. She performs acts of defiance and seduction with surgical precision, reminding us that the erotic can be both sacred and savage.

Her favorite solo, Bad Girl, is where she truly reigns. Balancing effortlessly on her heels, she twists, turns, spins: a ballet of dominance and desire. The temperature rises with every movement. When the act ends, she calls on an audience member, has them hold a silicone phallus and with a single crack of her whip sends it flying. The room erupts. The message is clear: Do not play with this woman. She is strictly business.

Outside the theatre, Belladona is no less commanding. A model, porn director, and dancer at La Chochotte, she is the architect of her own erotic empire. She arrived in Paris from Marseille in search of work that was still drenched in sensuality but demanded creativity, not compliance. She didn’t want a pole; she wanted a stage.

“When I found this theatre,” she told me, “I knew I could create here. I could become.”

And she has in every sense of the word. 

When I asked about her love life, she laughed softly in the way people do when they’ve already anticipated your curiosity. “It’s not heteronormative,” she said simply. She’s been in a relationship for eight years; a partnership that has evolved alongside her exploration of BDSM. Midway through, she discovered the world of dominance and submission, and while her partner hesitated at first, through communication, they were able to explore her curiosities by relying on their solid foundation of trust for one other.  

It wasn’t easy for her partner at first. Jealousy lingered like perfume after a performance, faint but unmistakable. There were moments when not knowing was simply easier, softer. Yet, despite the tension, neither of them would change a thing. To Belladona, love is richer when it grows alongside transformation. Her partner has witnessed every stage of her metamorphosis and has chosen to stay, unwavering in his support.

When I asked how long it took for him to truly become comfortable, she smiled. “Almost a year,” she confessed. “But communication was everything.” Without that, it would have unraveled long ago. She is resolute: she could never be with someone who refuses to accept both versions of her — Belladona on stage and the woman beneath the leather.

Her advice to anyone drawn to this world is as sharp as the crack of her whip: enter it with confidence, and never surrender control. In her words, “You are the one holding the power — never forget it.”

Mimi Lui: La chaleur latine de La Chochotte

Mimi Lui hails from Puerto Rico. When she steps onto the stage, her body moves in the choreography of her heritage. Every twist, every rhythm, every flick of her hips is a love letter to Latin heat. Whether she’s performing a sultry salsa-inspired number or spinning gracefully up the pole, she doesn’t just dance, she burns.

Already an accomplished actress in her own right, Mimi isn’t intimidated by stages whether grand or intimate. When she came to Paris searching for work that would let her explore her sensuality, creativity and performance, she found her home at La Chochotte. “I actually found it through ChatGPT,” she laughs. “I was just looking for something within erotic dance — and suddenly, this world opened up for me.”

Before La Chochotte, she had tried venues like The Secret Square, but left disappointed. “It wasn’t about art or dance there,” she admits. “It was more about selling drinks, not expression. Here, I get to create.”

Raw, Unmasked, Unapologetic

“You can’t hide who you are on stage,” Mimi tells me with warmth and conviction. “You can play with makeup, with hair, with costume — but once you’re up there, you’re vulnerable. This place is raw. You have to connect with the audience. They pay for sensuality, yes, but also for connection, for intimacy, for truth.”

After a pause, she adds, “There are no barriers.”

Her ex-girlfriend couldn’t accept the intimacy of her performances, the nudity, the closeness with clients. Jealousy seeped into every conversation until it became unbearable. When I asked whether she’d ever quit the stage for love, Mimi sighed “No.” She said simply, “I love the liberty this gives me. Here, I decide the rhythm. I design my show. I am the story.” 

After each show, she performs her own kind of ritual. “When I get home, I stay in silence. I put on music, take a shower — it’s symbolic, washing the night away. Then I’m safe again, in my own world.” Her favorite solo, Rave, is inspired by an old love. “Mis sueños,” she calls them, dreams that once guided her through transformation. Though she’s single now, her past relationships (one in particular) shaped her journey into this world.

The Price of Freedom

Had she stayed in that relationship, Mimi admits, she might never have auditioned. As a result, she might never found the creative freedom she has now. “I have no regrets,” she tells me. “I’ll only leave if something better comes along. For now, I’m still creating. In two years, I still see myself here dancing, exploring, sharing energy with the audience.”

Her advice to women entering this field is measured and resolute: “If you’re in a relationship, think carefully. This job teaches you about life and power, but your partner must be open-minded. What we do is create fantasy — it’s performance, not betrayal. Keep your private life and your stage life separate. Don’t blur the line.”

Mimi Lui embodies all of that. She is flame, rhythm, and rebellion. A woman who dances not to please, but to exist fully in her own light.

Reflections from Angela

Listening to Mimi, I couldn’t help but see myself reflected back. The vulnerability, the strength, the fine balance between creation and control. It all felt familiar.

I, too, have lost relationships to this work. Mine ended not because of distance or circumstance, but because of jealousy. The kind that corrodes quietly until it consumes everything.

Before all this, I was a professional dancer at the Joffrey Ballet of Chicago. I never imagined my movements would one day belong to an erotic theatre in Paris. But Paris demanded its price. I needed stability, money, and a new kind of freedom; I found both in this world of velvet and voyeurism.

When I met my ex, he was kind, generous, funny. I told him what I did for work and watched our relationship twist under the weight of his insecurity. He began showing up unannounced to the theatre, watching from the shadows, pretending to “protect” me from men who “wanted to hurt me.” Every outing became a scene. Every glance from a stranger turned into a fight.

At one point, I almost gave in. I considered quitting, letting him support me. But when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t recognize the woman staring back. The independence, the confidence, was gone. So I said enough.

Belladona was right: love that cannot coexist with exploration will always fail.

Epilogue: Love, Work, and the Self

This world, our world, is not for the faint of heart. It asks everything of us: our bodies, our emotions, our truth. But it gives us something too: power, sisterhood, self-knowledge.

As an aspiring sex therapist, researcher and medical professional, I place great importance on informed consent and ethical transparency. Prior to conducting the interviews, I debriefed each participant regarding the purpose of the interviews, the intended publication venue, and the objectives of this project.

All participants provided verbal consent for the use of their chosen photographs, recorded statements, and interview materials. These measures were taken to ensure the protection of each participants confidentiality, identity, and the integrity of their contributions.