I was getting very excited. My full lower lip was clenched in my teeth. My breath was coming faster and faster.

"Yes...yes...yes," I yelled very near the end. My breasts heaved up and down in excitement.

'You Died' The screen read in crimson letters.

"Fuck!" I screamed throwing down the controller. It had taken me three hours to get that far on that boss. He had only had ten percent health left, and I had run out of healing items like a Noob! I threw myself back on my bed cursing myself. I glanced at my phone sighing. I didn't even have time to give it another shot. I had to be at the club in two hours.

Most people think that all strippers are just natural beauties that maybe are plastically enhanced, but generally, it takes a lot of fucking work to look this damn good. First I shower because let's face it no matter how pretty the face if it has a stank it will make no bank. Then I was myself to smooth perfection. Next is makeup and that is an art all onto itself that you simply can not rush. My hair I admit is easy. It flows down my shoulders in a crimson curtain that I really do not have to work at. It's my best feature well other than my sublime arse. My tits aren't bad either, but what really catches the guys is my eyes. Mainly, because I am a succubus and possess them until I literally drain the life out of them through their favorite organ, but also because they are the color most humans simply cannot have. Turquoise eyes that any cat would be envious of, yes that's probably my favorite feature.

My name is Lilith, but people call me Lilly. You probably noticed humility is not my strong suit. Nothing that isn't delightfully sinful is just out of my ability, it comes with job discrimination. So why bother stripping you might be wondering. Well, can you think of a better profession for a modern succubus to earn a living, and find a ready supply of eager victims? I sure can't!

I finished up my lipstick in the mirror pleased with myself. The black corset top with the Jean skirt looked fan-fucking-tastic. The three-inch spiked heels with silver skulls on them were my absolute favorite. I looked so good it could kill which was the whole point. It wasn't a fast death by any means and the guys who gave themselves over died with a smile on their faces. I had had my current "boyfriend" for a few weeks now, and I could tell he would be going to that sweet ever-after soon. He had been twenty blonde full of spunk and ready to, well you get the point, but now he was gaunt barely able to stay upright. He looked like he was on drugs and I am sure the people who knew him would guess that would be what did in. There was a good reason I pick party boys it was easier to explain.

The strip club I worked at was called the Electric Cowboy. I hated the name too. Once there were no fucking male strippers there. Two how cliche could a strip club in Texas be? It did however have a huge following, and it made me a very comfortable woman in more ways than one. I strode in at six o'clock fashionably late but at six the clients were few and mostly pervy old men. I do have standards, and I do not under any circumstances do grandpas. My boss a very fat Italian man with a good sense for business and a real talent for pissing in my cheerios started angrily towards me as soon as I hit the door.

"You are an hour late! Felicity had to take three sets in a row! Why can you not just be on time just one time?" Allan, my boss, yelled into my chest. I towered over him so he really didn't have much choice. I seriously considered telling him that I was fighting an epic battle of life and death, but he just didn't seem to get my hobbies. I just sighed and kept walking toward the dressing room.

"If you didn't make me so much damn money I would fire you!" He called after me. I just turned and winked at him blowing a kiss. He smiled despite himself no man has ever been able to resist my charms, well no man that didn't bat for the same team anyways. Every male eye in the club followed me as I glided to the back.