Friday night: the night that the crowd grows large, full of men from around the city inside Rush nightclub. Friday was what every man in that crowd had waited all week for. Friday was the night that Iris performed.

Rush was known throughout Prague for its drinks and food by day, but by night, the club was known for its dancers. The women who worked there were talented, flexible, sexy and very well-known; especially Iris. Her nickname came from the tattoo of and iris flower on her hip, and the only way you could see it was if she wore a thong, or nothing at all. Every week, she would come to Rush with a different routine, a different outfit, with the same technique and she always managed to get new additions to her crowd. She always wore a smile as she performed, and that's what earned her so many tips, or maybe it was her body.

Iris was gifted with a body that, the goddess, Aphrodite would be jealous of. She was curvy in all the right places, she had natural bronze skin, her hair hung in rich, blonde waves and her eyes were a color blue that always seemed to be darkened with lust. Iris's Russian accent had a deep, sexual wave in its tone, but no one in the nightclub had heard it, because she refused to talk to anyone there. She was a quiet woman in the real world, but she came alive on the stage.

This Friday was rowdy. The men, having already treated themselves to Russia's finest vodka, were stumbling to their seats to get ready for Iris's performance. As she peaked out of the curtain, she noticed that one man wasn't sitting, but standing in a darker corner of the room. His long, dirty coat was all she could see of him before the lights dimmed and darkness hid his face completely.

She looked down at her own outfit to make sure it was perfect. The purple and black corset had a zipper going down the front, which started between her large bust. She wore a black thong, showing her signature tattoo, and black seven inch platform stilettos that complimented the muscle definition in her long, tan legs. She heard the announcer say her name, and she knew it was time to show them what she had. In the darkness, she leaned against the cool pole and arched her back.

When the lights lit up and the music started, she gave the large crowd a reason for being there. She danced, bent over, wrapped herself around the pole and winked at the crowd. After she slowly unzipped the corset, she tossed it in a random direction and licked her lips naughtily at the man who caught it. She strut to the end of the stage and held out her hands. The two men sitting nearest to her took her hands and helped her off of the platform. Swaying her hips, she noticed a woman sitting in the large crowd. It was a rare occasion when a woman had the balls to show up in Rush, so Iris gave her some attention. She sat on her lap, spread her legs and leaned her head back to the crook of the woman's neck. Iris rolled her hips before getting up to tease another lucky crowd member.

She picked up her leg and straddled a man's lap, taking in his features. He had a cigarette hanging from his lips. Iris plucked it out of his mouth with her fingers and put it in hers. His hair hung down in his eyes, but she saw that they were an iridescent blue. He was handsome, to say the least, and God had gifted him in other places as well. She could feel his excitement press up against her as she took a long drag off of his rolled cigarette and held it between her thin fingers. She placed her lips close to his, pressing her breasts against his chest, and exhaled, blowing a stream of smoke into his open mouth. He inhaled and blew the smoke out of his nose. She grinded her hips against his and rolled her head in a sensual manner. "Damn, girl." He moaned out.

American, she thought. With a smirk, she got off of him and slinked back towards the stage. When she stepped onto the platform, she spun herself around the pole again, spreading her legs as the music ended. She gave one last wink to the American before the lights dimmed once again and the inside of Rush was filled with darkness.


Her black, leather skirt rode up high on her thighs as she walked out of the club. Iris's heels clicked on the sidewalk as a small breeze wisped through her hair. It was two in the morning and Iris was ready to be home in her cozy apartment. She silently smiled as she slung her purse over her shoulder. Altogether, her tips and pay came out to be seven hundred, forty-nine dollars and she couldn't be happier. That was the largest crowd she'd seen in months, but her mind wandered back to the American. She wouldn't mind taking him to bed from how good looking he was.

"You looking for a good time, baby?"

Iris turned to find a man in a familiar coat standing before her. "No, but I'm sure you can find someone else who is." Her thick, Russian accent rolled off of her tongue like velvet. He had an accent as well, but it was lighter than hers.

"I've already found her." He rushed towards her at an inhuman speed, dragging her into the nearest alley. She couldn't think before her back was pressed against a brick wall, scratching and scraping the skin on her shoulders. She lifted a knee and hit a lucky shot to his groin, making him flinch, but he retaliated and slapped her. She heard a crunch and felt her face fill with fire.

She screamed as she fell to the ground, scraping her arms and legs on the gritty concrete below her. Then man leapt on top of her and pressed down on her ribs. A sickening crack sounded and pain welled through her torso. She watched in horror as his face split open, an extra appendage exiting his mouth and coming closer to her face. She screamed with all her lungs would allow her, then watched as her assailant looked in another direction and then ran away. In the time it took her to blink and register what had just happened, a large black man stood over her, his leather coat swirling around his large build.

"Ulyena Gavlik. We've been expecting you." He said in a deep voice.

Iris couldn't answer before black invaded her vision and she passed out.