Chapter 2: The Show is On

I had joined Level 4 the previous week, thanks to sponsorship from my friend, Ted, who had been a member for several months. My membership card arrived in Wednesday's mail, and I was eager to try it out. I called Ted, and we arranged to meet in the bar at 9 p.m. on Friday night.

After a few moment's conversation, we went up the stairs to the topless club and headed for the restrooms. Nobody paid any attention to us, not with dancers on stage. Ted knocked on the door marked "Manager" and we were admitted. Our membership was checked again by one bouncer and then we were passed through the other door by a second. We walked down the two flights of stairs and entered the Basement.

The stage was empty as we entered, and a sex movie was being projected on two walls. Over at the pedestal where the urn for tickets sat, the tote board was flashing "$250," and the floor manager was walking toward it, accompanied by a slim Asian girl wearing bright blue hot pants and matching high heels. Her bare breasts were large for her small size, and I suspected they had been enhanced. A spotlight tracked them across the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the floor manager announced, presumably including the waitresses and working girls since there were no female customers, "we have reached the magic $250 mark for the third time this evening. To perform the honors, would you please give a nice Basement welcome to Miss Tina, one of our newest performers."

There was a round of applause for the very pretty girl which included hoots and catcalls of various kinds. Tina appeared to be barely into her 20s. When the noise died down, the floor manager continued.

"Now as soon as I mix these tickets..." he said, reaching into the urn and turning the contents over a handfull at a time, "we'll have our drawing. Miss Tina," he said, stepping back, "would you please select a ticket."

Standing on her tiptoes and looking at the audience, the girl reached over the rim, stirred the contents again and, frowning with concentration, chose and withdrew a ticket stub. She handed it to the floor manager.

"And the winner is... two, oh, one, six, three" read the floor manager. Throughout the room, heads were bowed as customers studied their tickets. He repeated the number and asked, "Do we have a winner?"

A tall man with curly blond hair at a table near the stage raised his hand, stood up and started walking toward the floor manager and the girl. He was grinning from ear-to-ear. When he reached them, he handed his ticket to the floor manager who compared it to the ticket that had been drawn and then smiled.

"We have a winner, ladies and gentlemen!" he announced. He and Tina each took one of the man's hands and raised them in victory. "Congratulations, sir!" the floor manager said. "Miss Tina, would you please escort our winner to your studio."

Still clutching the man's hand, Tina led him off through the door next to the pedestal. The man, who towered over her by more than a foot, was blushing furiously as he disappeared through the door, sent off with a round of applause and shouts of "Good luck!" and "Go get her!"

"And now, friends, back to the action!" the manager cried enthusiastically. He tilted the urn over, dumping the remaining tickets onto the floor. Then, he pressed a button on the side of the tote board, resetting the display to zero.

After that example, Ted had no difficulty persuading me to buy a ticket when the waitress came to take our drink orders. We each bought two, in fact. As she left our table, the waitress passed by the urn, dropped in the other halves of our tickets and pressed a button four times, adding $20 to the $35 that was already recorded. By the time she returned with our drinks, the total was up to $95.

It was quite a charge, I have to tell you, to sit there sipping at a drink and watch the goings-on. The adult movie had resumed, and it was showing an orgy involving two women and three men who kept switching partners and positions and combinations as the movie progressed. Meanwhile, waitresses and "performers" circulated around the room.

The waitresses would have been a sufficient attraction anyplace else. They were all pretty and dressed in a variety of costumes -- belly dancers, maids, swimsuits, and such -- all of which featured plunging necklines and push-up bras. But the performers put them to shame, such that you wouldn't even bother to look at a waitress unless she was bending over your table.

All the working girls were topless, and their tops were well worth revealing. They came in a variety of colors from milk white to ebony and all the tans between. Below the waist, their costumes varied except in being short and tight, exposing long legs (and sometimes more) that ended in stilt-high heels.

One girl, Karin, stopped to talk with us. She was wearing red hot pants and heels, with a gold choker necklace. Her skin was a deep tan color, her areolas somewhat darker and tipped with still darker nipples, both of which were pierced by small gold loops. She was Persian, she said, and her family had fled Iran just as the revolution started, when she was little more than a baby.

We had only been talking a few minutes, however, when a soft gong sounded. Karin looked over toward the floor manager's stand and saw that a small, red bulb was lit.

"'Scuse me," she said, smiling at Ted and me. "I'm on next."

We watched Karin walk to the side of the room and slip through the same door used by Miss Tina and the most recent raffle winner. A few minutes later, the porno movie was switched off and the room lights were lowered until only the floor manager, illuminated by a spotlight, was visible.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please. The Basement is proud to present a little performance for your enjoyment. Now appearing on our main stage, would you please give a rousing Basement welcome to Miss Karin and her companion, Studley Dan!"

The spotlight winked out and the stage lights came on, revealing the red velvet curtain that was rapidly opening. It revealed a woman's boudoir, or at least the suggestion of one. A large canopied bed occupied the center of the stage. At one side was a woman's vanity and seated before the large mirror on a bench was Miss Karin, wearing a filmy negligee over a light blue babydoll nightie. Karin was brushing her hair, which made her ample breasts stick out prominently and bob back and forth with her motions.

Karin seemed to notice them herself, for she stopped, laid down the brush and, lacing her fingers behind her neck, jutted her chest forward and waggled her shoulders to make her breasts shift back and forth on her chest. After entertaining herself in this manner for a few moments, Karin dropped her hands to her tits. She cupped one in either hand and began to lift, knead and pull on them.

In the "outside" window on the other side of the stage room, the figure of a man appeared, although I was never certain whether he had moved there or whether my eyes had simply adjusted to the availabe light. In any case, the man was enjoying the show Karin was puting on for us. He watched as she massaged her own breasts. After doing so for a while, she slipped a hand under her shortie nightgown and moved it up to resume kneading it. Karin let her head fall back, eyes closed, while she worked on herself.

Her other hand dropped to stroke and then scratch at her thighs. A short time later, Karin slipped this hand under her nightgown, too, but instead of raising it to her other breast, she pushed it down into her panties and began to stroke herself there. The man outside also dropped a hand to his middle and began to rub his prick through his pants.

Karin continued to massage her tit and pussy for a while, her head back and her mouth open, making little moaning sounds and whimpers that were faintly audible. Gradually, the intensity of her movements and the sounds she was making rose in a slow crescendo.

Just when Karin was moaning louder, her hand making rapid circles inside her panties, the man hidden outside suddenly grasped the bottom of the window and threw it up. Wasting no time, he already had a leg over the window sill by the time Karin reacted to the sound of the window. Ducking his head, he jumped into the room.

Karin let out a shriek, pulled her hands out of her panties and from under her nightgown and jumped to her feet. Looking frantically from side to side but having nowhere to run, Karin moved to put the bed between her and the intruder.

The man was tall and white, with dark hair and big shoulders. He was tall, over six feet, and almost handsome except for a nose that was too wide and a mouth that was too small. He began to stalk her, moving sideways around the bed. Karin matched him, keeping the bed between them.

"Don't be difficult," he said. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want to give you what you were thinking about." Karin said nothing, just kept her eyes on the man and circled around the bed.

He tried to dash around it and catch her, but she was as quick as he was. The intruder could not get close enough to grab her, although he came close twice, the last time when he suddenly stopped and reversed direction. His fingers actually grazed the negligee that billowed out behind Karin, but he could not get a grip on it.

Finally, the man stopped and bent over, one hand on the bed, as if he was trying to catch his breath. Then, suddenly, he leaped across the bed, stretching out and reaching for Karin. He got a hand on her thigh, just above her knee, but she tore lose from his grasp, leaving the man sprawled across the bed.

Taking advantage of his momentary immobility, Karin spun around and raced for the door. She almost made it, too, but the door opened inward and she had to pull it open instead of bursting through it. The man recovered quickly, jumped after her, and caught Karin just as she started through the doorway.

"GOD DAMMIT!" he roared, grabbing her roughly around the neck and flinging her backward into the room. She reeled off balance toward the center of the room, bumped into the bed and sat down awkwardly. The man slammed the door and leaped after her. Karin tried to jump up, but the man was too quick for her. As she was pushing to her feet, the intruder reached her and unleashed a roundhouse slap that cracked across her cheek, spun her around and dumped her onto the bed. (It was a fake slap, of course, but it looked real.)

"That'll teach you, bitch!" the man snarled. Karin tried to push up from the bed, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it. The man grabbed the back of her negligee at her neck and pulled strongly. It ripped away, most of it coming away in the man's hand. One of the sleeves remained around Karin's arm.

"Stay put or I'll have to hit you again," the man growled. Karin ignored his warning and tried to crawl away from him across the bed. He grabbed her by the arm, spun her around, and slapped her face again. She felt back, momentarily stunned.

The man reached down quickly, grabbed the nightgown near the neck and gave a strong tug. The material gave, tearing partway down her front and revealing a glimpse of Karin's breasts. He slid his hand down the tear and yanked again, this time completing the job. The nightgown parted all the way to the hem. Karin's dark tan body was revealed, naked under the torn gown except for the matching light blue panties. The gold hoops that pierced her nipples gleamed in the spotlight.

"I warned you," the intruder snarled. "Now, do what I say if you know what's good for you." Karin was crying, an arm thrown across her face. The man reached down and grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to a sitting position. With his other hand, he reached down and pawed at her breasts.