I followed Stella across the hall and down narrow wooden stairs to what, in days gone by, were obviously the servants' quarters. We stopped at a door with a covered grill and she turned to me.
“Listen, darling-don't be surprised at what you see in here,” she whispered. “Above all-don't tell anyone about the place, or where it is-OK?”
“OK. Why-isn't it licensed, or something?”
“Oh, it's licensed, all right-but not for all that goes on! No one ever seems to be quite sure about the law on female homosexuality, and one has to play safe. You will see quite a few things that will open your eyes, my sweet. They have a strip-show-very much like they have for men, only it goes somewhat more into detail. You'll find it interesting, anyway.”
She pressed a bell at the side of the door and the cover slid away from the grill. I was aware of eyes glinting at me from the dimness.
“Stella Chambers-I've brought a friend-she's all right-I can vouch for her.” The door opened and I tagged along behind Stella.
“Hi, Stella-long time no see! Good to see you. Who's your friend?”
“This is Rita-a very close friend; we are practically next-door neighbours.”
“Of course-you live way out in the sticks, now, don't you! Hi, Rita-welcome to the clan.”
I had my hand clasped in a strong grip and pumped up and down. It was the woman who had opened the door to us. She sat on a high stool, and I saw that the bar came right up to the door, so that she only had to swivel on her seat to open it or to look through the grill, as the stool was right at the end of the bar.
For a moment, I wasn't quite sure whether I was having my hand shaken by an extremely effeminate man, or a woman in a man's suit. When I took a closer look I saw she had, incongruously, pencilled eyebrows and a light face make-up; as my eyes traveled down her body, I took in the loose, open jacket, partially disguising the enormous pair of breasts she had.
“Take that table just over there,” she pointed. “The show's starting in a couple of minutes. Watch out for the third act-it's a corker! The last one, of course, is still fabulous-yes-we still have Jean and Penny! They've worked out a completely new routine, though, and it's the berries! Tell me what you want and I'll have it sent over.”
“Oh, send over a bottle of-let's see, what wine do you have here? We don't want to mix our drinks too much. I know-Chatteau neuf du Pape; still keep it?”
“One Chatteau neuf coming up!”
We sat at the table she had indicated; it was right on the edge of the small dance floor, where several couples were swaying round to the accompaniment of a hidden juke-box.
Two or three obvious women were “dancing” with each other-smooching to music, I would have called it; two other couples were less obvious, though; I had to look very closely to find out that they were all women. One girl looked very attractive in a light print dress reaching to just above her knees; fairly low-cut, showing a lot of cleavage and the tops of fair-skinned well-developed breasts and straight shoulders.
Her partner wore a sports jacket and flannels, with an open-necked shirt; this one had a hard, mannish face and short-cropped hair. Although I had now faced up to the fact that sex relations with another woman-Stella, at any rate-had passed from the stage of merely a pleasant diversion to a near must, I was quite sure I would have been sickened by that type. I couldn't repress a shiver of revulsion at the thought of having her hands mauling me, or her mouth slobbering at me. I took a quick swig of the wine that was brought, to wash down the retch that threatened to choke me at the thought of my head between those near-masculine thighs.
“They have a pretty good show here-I don't know about the third act, but if George says it's good, then it's good. But the Jean and Penny act has been going on for ages and it's always quite fabulous. Don't be shocked, now!”
“I don't think I'll be shocked, but those two 'male women' on the floor make me feel slightly sick.”
“Jean and Penny aren't anything like them. They're two gorgeous girls. You wait and see-they'll be on in a minute. Let's have a dance while we're waiting — you won't have to watch those two butches, then.”
I looked at her for a moment, that feeling of unreality sweeping over me, then I stood up and glided into her arms, taking naturally the female role. It seemed quite the same as dancing with a man, except that Stella's bosom bounced and rubbed against mine as no male's had ever done!
“You dance very well, Rita.”
“Thanks, so do you-come here often?”
“Only in the mating season!”
“Ouch! I rather left myself open to that one, didn't I?”
“You did! I haven't been here for quite a while, but I used to come here a lot with Rose-she lives close by. Which reminds me-I'd better phone her.”
The music stopped and we went back to our table. As we sat down, the dim lighting dimmed even more and a voice came over a loudspeaker announcing the first act.
“I'll wait until after the show before phoning Rose,” Stella whispered. “How long does it last?”
“Not very long-they have about five or six acts and each one except the main item only lasts about three or four minutes; the last one takes about ten.”
“… introducing Lolita!”
The lights around the room went out altogether and a spotlight bit its way through the darkness to the centre of the floor. Into the brilliance stepped a pretty girl of about twenty, with dark hair reaching to her shoulders. She had on a full-length evening dress, with the skirt split on the left right up to her hip.
Music came from the loudspeaker and she moved around in step, followed by the spotlight, taking every opportunity to display the length of her leg and thigh through the split of the skirt. There was no attempt at dancing as such, merely movement designed to accentuate her curves. The dress was, of course, low cut and showed off her straight shoulders and the swell of her bosom. I suppose it was quite pleasant to watch, but nothing spectacular.
Then she showed us she had a zip under her left armpit, raising her arm, she pulled the zip right down to her hip and suddenly, the dress was a pool of blue at her feet. She posed, hands on hips, body swaying, now clad in bra, panties, suspender-belt, stockings and black, shiny leather shoes with heels that must have been at least six inches.
She moved around for a while, swaying all the time. Then slowly, the suspenders were unfastened; a chair was pushed into the spotlight and she sat down to roll the stockings off, giving us brief flashing of pantie crotch as she lifted each leg. Shoes were thrown aside, the stockings were taken right off. Then she got up and moved around some more, arms behind her, feeling for the catch of her bra; unfastened, her hands left the strap and went to cup the brassieres breasts, as she turned, smiling provocatively, to face the audience. She paused, then, with a flourish, took her hands away and let the bra drop to the floor. Her breasts were not terribly large, but the nipples looked big-probably painted-seeming to take up almost half the breast area. She strutted about, then, wriggling her upper body, jerking her titties from side to side.