So what should a girl of twenty-one with good teeth, no skills or advanced education do for money? And an easy food source?

Thus was Trixi born, the newest exotic dancer at XXXButts. A shocking environment that I wouldn’t deny was degrading to women, but in their defense, they paid really fucking well. It also made feeding my hungers-and not the meat and potato variety-so much easier.

XXXButts was just a starting point though. I moved often in the beginning, especially when members of my past caught up to me and learned to their detriment that I preferred to stay hidden and out of their clutches. It was during this time I lost my squeamishness and I adopted the new motto of “I will kill to survive.” Eventually, I stopped running, and that’s when I found out, to my amazement, I wasn’t the only special girl working at my newest club. Of course, the siren and werebunny didn’t come close to my state of being, but because of our differences-and in spite of them-we forged a friendship that was stronger for our specialness.

My unique appeal on stage caught the attention of a bigger club within months-I knew how to please a crowd. Dragging my friends along with me, we moved to the more upscale location and I landed the cushy feature dancer position while Lana and Claire landed jobs as shot girl and waitress. My success entitled us to the best shifts, the cleanest most secure lockers and a never-ending flow of cash-among other things.

During my time on stage, I enticed and enflamed. I swung on the pole in a titillating dance as the featured Saturday night dancer. When I shook my booty, all eyes in the place were glued to me. What could I say, I was hot and not only did I know it, but humans did, too. Even better, their slack jawed excitement fed a part of me without my even touching them. If only I could have fed my other hunger hands-free.