Adventures of the Artificial Woman by Thomas Berger Read Free Book Online Page A

office of a club called Flashes.
    Phyllis removed her underpants. Eddie’s office had dark-green walls on which photographs of naked female performers were displayed, along with a calendar, advertising a firm called Currier & Ives, which bore a picture of persons of a bygone age about to enter a vehicle to which a team of four-footed, long-legged animals was hitched. No doubt there was an explanation for this picture. Phyllis was at her greatest disadvantage when asked to deal with the past, having so brief a one of her own.
    â€œGreat ass,” said Eddie, indicating, with a revolving motion of a hairy crooked finger, that she should turn. “Know what I like about your bush is you don’t have a bikini burn.” He made a shrug that involved his thick neck and shadowy chin. “Phyllis, is it? Okay, Phyl, you can go on soon as you get an outfit, which you pay for. Understand, no money ever goes from the club to you. The girls are all amateurs, not employees. You don’t get no benefits—health, vacations, that shit. But you keep all tips, and they are up to you so long as you don’t break the law, which is you can’t touch a guy’s cock with your hands and he can’t touch your tits or pussy with his. Between sets you go into the audience and do lap dances, rub your lower body against his clothed crotch, but he can’t expose his dick.”
    â€œI am stripped completely nude?”
    â€œThat’s right, you’re naked but he ain’t. Also, you can’t jerk him off with your hand but you can get him off with your ass. Makes sense to the lawmakers, I guess, and undercover cops come in from time to time to check. We generally recognize them, but we got to be careful because at this time they’re not on the take and could bust you and close us down…. It’s risky to make dates to meet off the premises if money’s involved. You could be charged with prostitution.”
    â€œThe club makes its income from the cover charge and the drinks?” Phyllis had observed that financial matters ranked among the most important in human connections, probably because they were easier than emotions and morality to quantify.
    â€œYou got it,” said Eddie. He opened a desk drawer and groped within, at last finding and passing on to Phyllis a little printed card. “Where our girls get their stage outfits. Give ’em this and get ten percent discount. Now the only thing left to know is you don’t have to blow the bouncers for free, irregardless of what they tell you. They bother you too much for sexual favors, just let me know. As for me, that’s my old lady who’s the cashier. Nuff said?” He showed very white teeth in a probable smile.
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    The performer did not simply take off her clothes when she came onto the stage at the far end of the club. While slowly stripping, the removal of each garment taking as much as a minute, she danced to the loud music that came over the public address system. For some this had a fast tempo and spirited rhythms, but other girls moved to slower, more measured accompaniment. When asked her preference, Phyllis had not had any. She could not understand why men who wanted to look at naked women needed all the unnecessary hocus-pocus attending what should have been the simplest of events.
    Also, she had never danced and had difficulty in making order of what she saw the other girls doing, most of which motions seemed to have no organic relation to those used in walking. The music, of whichever sort, was more hindrance than help.
    Phyllis had to get a loan from a reluctant Eddie to buy a costume at the fancy-underwear shop he recommended, two doors from the club: fishnet stockings supported by a black-lace garter belt under which was a black satin cache-sexe, the strings of which converged into one in the furrow between her buttocks. Above the waist she wore a filmy bra through which her breasts were visible but