Name: Victoria Lynn Simmons (Vixey or Vixen at work)
Gender: Female
Age: 24

Occupation: Waitress at the Petit Paris by day, dancer at Connie’s Kittens (A low class strip club in a bad part of town) at night.
Date/Place of Birth: Halifax Nova Scotia, April 23rd 1983
Species: Human

Appearance: Standing about 5’4” Vicky is one of the shortest people at her job, but luckily she was endowed with a fantastic figure, curves and lines just where they need to be. Her breasts, she’s proud to say, are natural and though not as big as the others she works with, are attractive to the guys who don’t want basketballs in their faces.

Her hair would naturally be a medium brown, but she dyes it black, as it tends to make her grey eyes more defined more appealing as they absorb and reflect the colors around them. Her hair is long with very slight waves, falling almost down to her backside, and is worn in a variety of fashions depending on what she’s doing. At the Petit Paris, it’s likely to be back in a braid, up in a bun or pulled back and up in some fashion. At work, it’s usually down, sometimes curled in tight spirals or in loose curls.

Outside of work, Victoria as she really prefers to be called, dresses very conservatively. She doesn’t act like a stripper because that wasn’t what she ever wanted to be. It seems if you watch her long enough, the bright and hopeful face on the young woman seems to break, revealing the sorrow and desperation that lays below her mask.

Occasionally bruises or cuts will show up on her body in places, but she hides them as best she can. But no one seems to notice anyway. Most are covered by her clothing during the day, at night, she relies on the darkness, cover-up and her skills to keep people from noticing. Her clothing is old and worn, but well kept and taken care of.


Personality and Situation: Knowing her personally, one would be surprised she was a stripper. A cleaver, smart and kind young woman, Victoria tries to keep her spirits up despite her lifestyle and living situation. But sometimes it gets harder and harder as the days go by.

She lives with her boyfriend Jason Toulouse, in a small shabby apartment with two of his friends. Her boyfriend is one step shy of being an alcoholic, constantly uses marijuana and occasionally other drugs when he gets the chance. Her boyfriend does not work, and only one of his other friends holds a job, so it’s up to Victoria and his other friend to pay rent.

Even though Victoria works two jobs, she rarely ever sees any of that money for herself, and often has to hide away some money for food and things other than drugs and beer. This money… If her boyfriend ever found out where it came from, that she had basically sold herself, would probably kill her. After all, whenever he finds out that she’s hidden money from him he tends to beat her, taking it to make her see that it’s useless to hide things from him.

History: Do dreams every really come true? I… I’m not sure.

When I was little, my family was big, close and comforting. We never really wanted anything, and we never had too much. With four other kids besides me, I always had someone to play with, but… I had a dream. I always had that same dream every girl had. I wanted to be a ballerina. I wanted to dance on a stage in beautiful outfits and hear the applauses of the crowd before me. I wanted nothing more, and so after a year of begging and pleading, my parents finally scraped up enough money to send me to a small school where I learned to dance.

I had so much fun, when I was dancing, when I was in front of everyone showing them what I could do… It was just as I dreamed.

But after four years… My mother lost her job, things got tighter… So when I was eleven, I had to stop my classes… Hang up my old shoes… And I never got to dance again. Well, not the kind of dancing I wanted to do anyway.

I went through school like everyone else… But for me it was horrible… when I was twelve, I was a head shorter than all of my classmates… And I was really overweight… It wasn’t like I wasn’t eating right, or exercising, but I just couldn’t lose the weight. I didn’t know what was wrong with me… But all the kids would tease me… Call me Icky Vicky… And when I got glasses a year later that didn’t help at all either. Four eyes, Specks…

I was ugly. I hated myself.

I would skip school, I would refuse to eat, I even started to throw up, but it hurt too much to keep doing. I did anything I could to get away from school… If I’d only known how much that would have hurt me later… It was the beginning of the end of the road for me… I wish… I really wished that I could have seen it then. I would have done anything to change it.


It was in High School that I began to sprout up. I grew almost eight inches when I was sixteen, but that didn’t help… I was just a scrawny short little bean now… Flat chested, no backside or hips or anything. With my dull eyes behind my thick glasses, mousy brown hair and lack of a body… Well, there was nothing more I wanted than the attention of the guys… I would have given anything to be like my little sisters! The youngest one was twelve and she had bigger breasts then I did. How depressing is that? And well… I hadn’t even gotten my period yet. The counselor thought there might have been something wrong with me, hormone levels or something, but the doctors we went to for basic tests said I was fine and there wasn’t any explanation for it.

Mum just said I was a late bloomer…

Well… Hope kinda came when I was almost eighteen. I finally got my period… But now that I think of it, the longer it would have stayed away the better. But anyway… It was right before graduation before I started actually looking like a woman. But by that time, my future was gone… I had barely passed high school, my family didn’t have money to send me to school, but they didn’t make little enough to get financial aid. I was screwed.

One of my girlfriends said she was moving, and needed a roommate, so well, I went with her. She was going to a university in Quebec, and so I figured I could get a job there to help out and clean the apartment. So that’s what we did. By the time I was twenty, well I finally had the attention of the men, but it wasn’t nearly what I expected. I almost got raped coming home from work one night until a cop thank God, happened to drive by. The guy was mad because I wouldn’t go out with him when he’d been asking me for near a month.

I had contacts now, and I had gotten tired of my brown hair so I decided to dye it black. It looked a lot better that way too. It made my eyes stand out more now that I didn’t have glasses.

It was the winter of 2004 that I met Jason… He was the sweetest guy ever. He would come into the restaurant I worked, sit at a table that I waited on, order a glass of water from the person who sat him, and disappear after leaving a single white rose on the table when I came to take his order. He did this for like a week before he actually stayed and talked to me. He was tall, a foot taller than me actually, and he said he’d seen me through the window and had to talk to me.

God… How could I have been so stupid back then… My life seemed to be turning around… But which direction?

I had been trying to save money to go to school and was doing really well.

The spring of 2005, just before my birthday actually, Jason said that he wanted to move somewhere else, So I agreed to go with him. My friend found a new roommate and well, when I got to Demaitre it wasn’t anything like I had thought… It was so much more expensive for a smaller, worse apartment then I had ever thought it could be.

I got a job almost straight away at the Petit Paris, and I’ve been there since, and I kept telling Jason to try and find a job… He said he was trying… But well, two years later, nothing. He would just sit at home drinking, a side of him I had never seen, and didn’t care to see. Two of his buddies moved in a month later, and that was when things got worse. Sure one of them actually had a job… But it still wasn’t enough and to avoid evection… Well I found a job that could work with my day schedule…

The only good thing was… I got to dance. On the stage… It was like all my familiarity with moving, dancing… It all came back. It was hard at first… Being new at a Strip Club always is I guess. People know who they like and really don’t want a lap dance from some strange girl. But I eventually got my share of clients, and well the first time a man asked to get to know me better… He offered me three hundred dollars… I… God… I couldn’t resist…

I’m ashamed to say it, but I saw that that was a quarter of my rent there, and I couldn’t say no. I was already working was a stripper… Did it really matter where the money came from besides that? I couldn’t tell Jason though, he’d just be furious. But we needed the money… At first I thought he’d notice if I came home crying from my humiliation, but… He never did.

A week later he found out from one of his other friends who’d seen me there… He beat me so badly that I didn’t dare go back to the club until the bruises went away…

But when I went back, the same guy was there, and he offered the same deal. When I said no, he doubled it. Against everything I knew was right, everything I wanted, I accepted again. I needed the money. I eventually had to hide money from him if I needed anything, food, clothing, house things… Because he’d spend everything on drugs and beer or other alcohol. Every time he found my stash, he’d beat me…

I want to leave him… I do. But I can’t. I wouldn’t make it here alone. I couldn’t just leave him. I know he doesn’t really care about me… Not after the first time he forced himself on me when he was high on something… But I’m in a big city… I don’t really know anyone, and my family would never let me back after everything that’s gone on. People always ask why women stay in relationships like mine… Because… I have no choice. I would end up as a prostitute rather than just a stripper. I’d end up being raped or killed on the streets. I stay… I stay because I have to. Eli, one of Jason’s friends likes me, but the moment he said something, Jason broke his nose… If I leave Jason… And he finds me? God knows what’ll happen.

I think you meant raped sweetie. ;3

Other than that, approved!

*kicks spell check* I hate technology sometimes... How it auto corrects something and you never notice it.

I think that's what happened. I was typing it late and night and probably mistyped and it just corrected it itself...

Heh, didn't even notice it got approved :3