Stripping Stories Novels & Stories

A smear of dried blood ran across her forehead, and her hair—that dark, wild mane—was matted with dust and golden glitter that caught the faint light like dying stars. My heart performed a slow, heavy roll in my chest. She was twenty-two. A girl. A stripper from the Hollows who should have run the second the bomb went off. She had enough thousand dollars with her—enough to disappear, enough to pay for her sister’s life for a month. Instead, she’d dragged a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound "drunk" into a Rolls-Royce and fought off a hit squad. Why? Mate, Leo snarled again.

Not at all. Good times indeed. And for the stripping part, well, lets just say I needed the extra cash. When I learned that strip teasers earn twice the amount that waitresses earn, I decided to tame some lessons and get more knowledge about being a stripped. Some young women begin stripping with an unrealistic idealization of the job. It has the allure of fast cash and seems like a way to improve your situation, give yourself more options, or move up in the world.