Hello housing crisis...

She picked up another night at the strip club to try to help, but she was making less money than before, and the first time in the dancing life she started to see the crowds thin in the club, and she started to see less money each night, not a lot less, but less.

People were hurting, and she started to notice. Her trade was one people could do without when they were running out of money. And the investor type regulars she used to see every week vanished.

She saw Mason less and less as she began working more nights, now up to five nights per week. His job in the financial market also was getting tough, he didn't share much, but she could see the stress. She didn't know if it was from the stress he was under, but finally, Mason just stopped calling and didn't return texts or voicemails.

Vixxen accepted this as a part of her job, as she found that strippers pretty much couldn't date and have success. She found that men she met outside of the club were fine until they found out what she did for a living, at which point almost all seemed to think she was a whore and started treating her like one.

After it ended with Mason she went on few dates, and she stopped having sex with her dates as easily as before. They just didn’t seem like good people these days.

The men she met in the club, bouncers, a nice DJ, some customers, seemed to start out thinking she was a whore. Most men treated her like a rental, not the sort the figured to date for long. She got a lot of requests to give random friends of boyfriends lapdances and blowjobs for birthdays and a lot of requests for threesomes.

She did not think that women outside of this life were likely treated this way, at least not this often, as her stripper friends said they usually got the same.

So Vixxen let the idea of dating go and focused on work, her houses, and getting the fuck out of the exotic dancing business.

She was working more, but was keeping up her time in the gym and at dance class, and now she had time spent trying to find people to rent her houses at a price that would get her out of trouble.

For the first time as a stripper she was nearly broke. She was barely paying her bills, and her comfortable lifestyle was gone, replaced with taking more and more hours dancing for fewer customers. She was pulling lunch shifts again, dancing for corporate types who ate a cheap steak lunch while watching her dance.

They were not big tippers.

Somehow she was going to make a hundred thousand dollars and have trouble paying for her gym membership. She started to have doubts.

She could start escorting on the side and make more money, other dancers were doing it. She was deeply convicted about it, and she was depressed just to be considering it.

She now found herself tired, not sleeping enough, and starting to get by on caffeine for the first time in her life. She couldn’t work less, and she couldn’t make any money if she neglected her body.

She wasn’t even twenty one yet, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.