Richard Engeman, Public Historian for the Oregon Historical Society, says few of those brothels were doc.u.mented, but the proof is hidden in official records like the census. "When you find forty women living at the same address, and they're all seamstresses, it's a brothel." He adds, "Sure, they're popping off a lot of b.u.t.tons, but that doesn't make them seamstresses."

In hot weather street bands used to march through the city, leading men back to the bars near the river, thus "drumming up business." Along their routes working women would lean from windows, advertising what was available.

In the vaudeville theaters the actresses and singers would roam the curtained boxes between their acts onstage. Called "box rustlers," they sold beer and s.e.x.

Portland police officer Lola Greene Baldwin, the first policewoman in the nation, attacked Portlands venerable department stores, including Meier & Frank, Lippman-Wolfe's, and Olds & King's, on the accusation that easy credit forced many young girls into debt and trading s.e.x for money. She fought to keep young women from being displayed in parades during the Rose Festival and had the touring comedienne Sophie Tucker arrested for public indecency.

In 1912 an estimated three thousand local women worked as prost.i.tutes, so many that Portland mayor Allan Rushlight campaigned to turn all of Ross Island into a penal colony solely for s.e.x workers.

The moral crusade of 1912 was the city's biggest until the crusade of 1948, and the crusade of 1999, and the crusade of... well, you get the point.

It's a business cycle Teresa Duke's seen since she started dancing at age twenty-three. Pragmatic, frank, and funny, she describes the Portland s.e.x industry in slightly more realistic terms than the vice report.

Free speech is so protected under the Oregon State Const.i.tution that we have the largest number of adult businesses in the nation. And, thanks to our free-speech rights, pretty much any type of no-contact nude performance is legal. According to Teresa, Portland (aka "p.o.r.n-land") has at least fifty nude dance clubs and twenty lingerie studios and shops with fantasy booths. This means a workforce of as many as fifteen hundred women and men make money performing naked. This means you'll see a much wider range of body types, ages, and races than in any other city.

Nudity and alcohol don't go together in any other state, she says. In most states full nudity is limited to juice bars. But because we mix alcohol and nudity, we can't have legal lap dancing. In Oregon it's table dancing, where the performer can be naked and close up in your face, on a table or stage, but not touching you-and you not touching him or her.

In a local lingerie studio you pay to sit on a couch in a room while a performer models. The performer and you may talk out a fantasy during the session. And you may exercise the option of masturbating. You're paying for time, plus extra for anything above and beyond the performer's normal show. In a "fantasy booth" you pay to watch the performer through a window. You pay by the minute, extra for specific services you want to watch. Teresa's example, a double-a.n.a.l penetration with d.i.l.d.os, would cost you extra.

According to Teresa, adult films are shot every day in Portland. Telephone s.e.x services thrive. Local live web-cams transmit on the Internet. The city's fetish specialists run the gamut from the dungeon dominatrix to the Dairy Queens, lactating women who collect and sell their breast milk. s.e.x workers range from the "career" women, who stay blond and thin in spinning cla.s.ses and augment their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, to the "survival" or "trade" workers, who work a "track" on the street, trading s.e.x for money or shelter or food or drugs.

Teresa says-irony aside-the best place to find street action is in any of the city's "prost.i.tution-free zones." These include Burnside Street, between the McDonald's at the west end of the track, and Sandy Boulevard at the east end. Also check out Killingsworth Street, Interstate Avenue, and Sandy Boulevard-especially through the Hollywood District.

For escort service, she says, check out the free magazines offered in most nude dance bars. The standard tip to a dancer is a dollar bill but don't be afraid to pay more.

In order to dance nude in a bar, the performers must pay the bar a "stage fee." The dancer also pays an "agency fee" to a booking agency that finds her venues and schedules her appearances. Between the two types of fees, a performer can go home with little or no profit. A situation that Teresa says drives many performers to arrange private dances in hotels or homes after work or between shows.

Started by Teresa in 1995, the magazine Danzine Danzine collects this professional wisdom that s.e.x workers won't find anywhere else. It teaches workers before they have to learn-and maybe die-from their mistakes. collects this professional wisdom that s.e.x workers won't find anywhere else. It teaches workers before they have to learn-and maybe die-from their mistakes. Danzine Danzine is here to tell you-no, you can't tax deduct your tampons, even if you cut the string and wear them while performing. And yes, always wipe down the bra.s.s pole before riding it with your newly shaved coochie. One drop of even dried menstrual blood is enough to transmit hepat.i.tis C or possibly HIV is here to tell you-no, you can't tax deduct your tampons, even if you cut the string and wear them while performing. And yes, always wipe down the bra.s.s pole before riding it with your newly shaved coochie. One drop of even dried menstrual blood is enough to transmit hepat.i.tis C or possibly HIV Danzine and Teresa also run the "Bad Date Hotline," where s.e.x workers post the details of their s.h.i.tty "dates" and describe the customers for others to look out for. Bad dates range from the bald driver of the silver Porsche who's HIV positive and demands unprotected v.a.g.i.n.al s.e.x to the Honda driver who wears a tie and zaps women with his stun gun. and Teresa also run the "Bad Date Hotline," where s.e.x workers post the details of their s.h.i.tty "dates" and describe the customers for others to look out for. Bad dates range from the bald driver of the silver Porsche who's HIV positive and demands unprotected v.a.g.i.n.al s.e.x to the Honda driver who wears a tie and zaps women with his stun gun.

And the magazine's d.a.m.n funny. In one feature called "You Know You've Been Stripping Too Long When . . ." Item Number Seven says you're banned from the playground after you teach the local kids how to work the pole. Item Number Ten says you go to the drugstore and automatically pick up your change with your teeth.

Danzine is published twice a year. To buy back issues, write to is published twice a year. To buy back issues, write to Danzine, Danzine, P.O. Box 40207, Portland, OR 97240-0207. Or look for it in small-press bookstores and Tower Records and Magazines in the United States, Great Britain, and Canada. Also check out the website, www.danzine.org. P.O. Box 40207, Portland, OR 97240-0207. Or look for it in small-press bookstores and Tower Records and Magazines in the United States, Great Britain, and Canada. Also check out the website, www.danzine.org.

AT 628 E BURNSIDE STREET, Teresa runs Miss Mona's Rack, a store that sells secondhand shoes, clothes, and jewelry, plus razors, condoms, and tampons. It also offers a staggering variety of lubricants, with all profits going to support community job training and risk-reduction programs that teach HIV and other STD prevention.

To date, Teresa says the city continues to increase the size of the prost.i.tution-free zones, in order to arrest more s.e.x workers for trespa.s.sing-a worse crime than prost.i.tution. And the city recently tried to impose a raft of licensing regulations on everyone in the s.e.x industry. According to Teresa, the city's effort is first to make money but ultimately to eliminate s.e.x workers. Another irony, since the city also supports growing the local hotel industry and attracting large conventions while denying that conventioneers create and support much of the local s.e.x industry.

It's not realistic to expect every tourist to attend the symphony or the opera at night. Teresa says, "And there are a lot of guys who do go to the symphony, but want a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b afterward."

In reaction to the new regulations, local s.e.x workers rallied by forming a political action group they called Scarlet Letter. They contacted some seventy escorts through the ads in adult monthly magazines such as SFX SFX and lobbied door-to-door in City Hall to convince the government the new law would drive s.e.x workers even further underground, where they'd seek less protection from violence and disease. and lobbied door-to-door in City Hall to convince the government the new law would drive s.e.x workers even further underground, where they'd seek less protection from violence and disease.

On March 8, 2000, after a court battle, Portlands s.e.x workers won an injunction that stops the city from enforcing the law. Now, all the years of organizing fetish parties and magazines have paid off by creating an effective political machine. It's the envy of s.e.x workers nationwide who now want Danzine's Danzine's help to fight similar laws in their own cities. help to fight similar laws in their own cities.

With her cla.s.sic Mona Lisa eyes half lidded, her smokers deep, sultry voice, Teresa Dulce is another example of writer Katherine Dunn's rule about every Portlander living at least three lives.

"Someday, I want to have a child," Teresa says. "I want to live by my own schedule. And I want to change some laws."

Here's a list of places to get lucky in Portland.

THE ACE OF HEARTS.

The ACE of Hearts at 3533 SE Thirty-ninth Avenue is Portland's premier club for swingers. Downstairs, you'll find two dance floors, a fifteen-person hot tub, showers, and a. snack bar. Upstairs, you'll have two pool tables, large and small "socializing" rooms, two more hot tubs, and a huge projection TV showing the kind of movies you'd expect. It's open only on Friday and Sat.u.r.day nights, with single men allowed only on Fridays. Couples and single women are welcome anytime.

Call it an open marriage, a polyamorous lifestyle, or a play party, you'll still need to buy a membership and attend a short orientation meeting before you can fulfill your pool table, multiple-partner, romantic fantasy.

For more information, check out www.aceofhearts.org or call the following numbers: If you're a single male, call 503-321-5027; if you're a single woman or a couple, call 503-727-3580.

BEAR HUNTING.

For you fans of big men with hairy backs, aka Bears, the Dirty Duck Pub is the stomping ground for men addicted to hairy men. Hunting season peaks on Sat.u.r.day nights at 439 NW Third Avenue, at the west end of the Steel Bridge.

CLOSE ENCOUNTERS.

Check out Close Encounters, a free social club for "Big Beautiful Women and Big Lovable Teddies"-and the folks who can't help but love them. Talking about weight loss is frowned on here. With about a hundred members in the club, you can expect to meet maybe half of them at the average weekly meeting.

Close Encounters meets every Sat.u.r.day at 7:00 P.M., at the New Old Lompoc Restaurant and Tavern, 1616 NW Twenty-third Avenue. Phone: 503-225-1855.

CLUB PORTLAND.

Portland's last gay bathhouse is the Club Portland, officially called the Continental Hotel Club and Baths, four floors of sticky fun at SW Twelfth Avenue and W Burnside Street. Formerly called the Majestic Hotel, the club features a wide-screen theater for Hollywood feature films on the second floor. The third floor has a murky, dark s.e.x maze full of crotch-high "glory holes." And the fourth floor has a p.o.r.n theater showing continuous man-on-man s.m.u.t, plus a stage and s.e.x sling for live performances. Membership is about $20, with lockers and rooms available, starting from $12. Larger hotel-style rooms, with private bathrooms, are also available. So is Internet access and a dry sauna. Hours: always open. Phone: 503-227-9992.

Admission to the Club Portland also gets you into the bas.e.m.e.nt j.a.c.k.-.o.f.f. club, Zippers Down.

c.o.c.k ROCK.

Local historians say the Lewis and Clark Expedition named this thin towering basalt monolith "c.o.c.k Rock" for obvious reasons. Located between Interstate 84 and the Columbia River, a few miles east of Portland, we now discreetly call it "Rooster Rock."

The trails lead out to the clothing-optional beach on Sand Island. Trails through the neighboring woods and secluded clearings in the willow thickets host s.e.x scenes you'll occasionally glimpse-so be warned. Despite park rangers on horseback handing out $300 tickets for lewd behavior, Portlanders still spread their blankets-and so much more-at the base of c.o.c.k Rock.

DANCE HALLS.

In books from the 1920s like From the Ballroom and Dance Hall to h.e.l.l From the Ballroom and Dance Hall to h.e.l.l and and Tillie from Tillamook, Tillie from Tillamook, generations of Port-landers have been warned-so must you be warned. generations of Port-landers have been warned-so must you be warned.

Too often, the first step to white slavery is the dance step. At dance halls, like the Crystal Ballroom or the Viscount Ballroom, single women are often approached by attractive young men. Called "gray wolves," the only goal of these men is to court and charm you, separate you from your loving family, and take you to Pendelton for a sham marriage. Once back in Portland, you'll find yourself soiled and alone. At this point your charming nonhusband will offer to find you work in one of the local brothels.

Well, you can't say I didn't warn you. Look for some of Portlands best ballroom dancing at "Lindy in the Park," held every Sunday from noon until 2:00 P.M., in good weather. Dancers spread cornmeal on the concrete plaza and practice the lindy hop in the South Park Blocks, behind the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall.

The first Sunday of each month, look for Johnny Martin's three-piece swing band and swing dancers at Sat.u.r.day Market, under the west end of the Burnside Bridge.

For indoor dancing, check out:

The Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside Street, phone: 503-225-5555, ext. 8810.

The Viscount Ballroom, 724 E Burnside Street, phone: 503-226-3262.

The Melody Ballroom, 615 SE Alder Street, phone: 503-232-2759.

Call each venue for hours and types of music available.

EXOTIC WEDNESDAY.

The Jefferson Theater, one of the West Coasts last big-screen p.o.r.n theaters, offers "Exotic Wednesday" on hump day at 9:00 P.M., admission $8. This isn't so much a movie ticket as it is a one-night, twelve-hour membership in a private club. You're free to c.u.m and go, and come back throughout your twelve hours.

This being a private club, the signs around the lobby warn you that s.e.xual activity may take place. And just in case the wrong Mr. Right wants to get up in your stuff, the signs declare that NO MEANS NO. That, and you must be at least eighteen years old.

Also look for "Video Feed Mondays," when a couple performs for the camera in the upstairs p.o.r.n-movie studio. A closed-circuit system shows them live on the auditorium's big screen, and the audience gets to direct the cameraman's shots and dictate the s.e.x acts.

On Exotic Wednesday or Nasty Karaoke Night, whatever you call it, at nine o'clock the movie stops and a celebrated local dancer does a set to a half dozen songs on the stage below the screen. Instead of a dancer, sometimes it's a girl-on-girl whipped-cream show or an S & M demonstration. After that, the movie-and so much more-begins.

A crowd of party girls and a drag queen come down the center aisle wearing stretch-velvet dresses. One girl, a big girl with strawberry blond hair piled in a chignon and a fake daisy behind one ear, she jumps up onstage, shouting. Another girl climbs up onstage, and the two make shadows against the huge p.e.n.i.s and v.a.g.i.n.a behind them. They make shadow animals and run a commentary about the gigantic s.e.x action. The blond leans down to an older woman in the front row and says, "Mom? Can you give me the shoes out of my bag?"

To the audience of sixty or seventy people, she says, "Yes, that's my mom, and no, I'm not going to do a s.e.x scene with her. That would be too Jerry Springer." too Jerry Springer."

She puts on the high-heeled platform shoes and says, "Check out these shoes!" shoes!"

The second girl kneels onstage and lifts her black skirt, and the drag queen slaps her exposed a.s.s and l.a.b.i.a with a riding crop. The strawberry blond jumps in place, trying to touch the spot where two big-screen erections are sodomizing a woman's stretched a.s.shole. Surrounded by this huge pink genitalia, the blond shouts, "How many of you guys know what 'Russian' is?"

No guys respond.

"You guys don't deal with a lot of escorts, do you?" she says. She shrugs the dress straps off her shoulders, and the tight dress shrinks down to her waist, exposing huge pink b.r.e.a.s.t.s that look to be-at least-half covered with nipple.

She squeezes her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in both hands, saying how "Russian" means getting off between a woman's b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Still squeezing, she says, "I might even let you do it, if you promise not to c.u.m in my eyes."

The drag queen is still spanking the second girl. The movie still towers above them all. Other women in black dresses come and go from the dark auditorium. Men follow them out into the lobby ... to talk. Couples paw each other in the couples-only section.

The theater owner gives the blond a long chrome flashlight and she works the audience, auctioneer-style, coaxing guy after guy to take the erection out of his pants. "I've got seven b.o.n.e.rs," she says. "Does anyone want to give me eight?" Like a topless game show host, she says, "You guys want to play a s.e.xual/intellectual game?" Pointing the flashlight at each b.o.n.e.r in the audience, she says, "I bet you call your d.i.c.k something different every day of the week. How about everybody shout out the name you have for your d.i.c.k?"

In the dark guys shout, "b.o.n.e.r . . . Peter . . . w.i.l.l.y . . ."

By now at least half the theater is openly jerking off. The exception is a group of men sitting together in the back, near the couples-only section. This group of men laugh and talk about their jobs, and the blond comes up the aisle saying, "What? You guys think that just because you're friends sitting together that you can't whip out your d.i.c.ks and get off?"

More women go onstage, making a shadow play against the big p.o.r.n. They flicker their shadow tongues against the huge shaved v.a.g.i.n.as. They put their shadow arms around the thirty-foot erections. As the movie works toward o.r.g.a.s.m-the happy ending of p.o.r.n-the audience talks to the new women who seem to arrive a few at a time. The strawberry blond kneels on a theater seat and leans over the back toward the man sitting behind her. With one hand she's touching his d.i.c.k. They talk. It's dark.

A little later, the big blond's in the theater lobby, looking at the covers of p.o.r.no movies for sale. Other men and women meet, mingle, whatever. Some move on to the couples-only section. The blond adjusts the plastic daisy in her hair as she tells the guy behind the candy counter, "If I can get just thirty hard d.i.c.ks in there, then I'll be happy."

The Jefferson Theater is at 1232 SW Twelfth Avenue. Phone: 503-223-1846.

THE I-t.i.t-A-ROD RACE.

Organized by the Portland Cacophony Society, this annual race requires you to visit as many nude dance clubs as possible in a twelve-hour period. You need proof you were there, usually a photo snapped outside near the business sign, and you need to consume one drink in each club. Most players work as teams with a designated driver. With as many as fifty strip clubs to visit, no one's been able to hit more than thirty in a single race.

KlNKFEST This is the annual weekend of workshops and play parties organized by the Portland Leather Alliance (PLA). A recent Kinkfest, hosted at the ACE of Hearts, included seminars such as "Erotic Humiliation and Degradation," "a.n.a.l Pleasure for Everyone," and "Saline Inflation." The event is held in the spring, so it won't conflict with the PLA's annual Leather Pride Week in August. For this year's schedule, check out www.pdxleatheralliance.org.

With more than four hundred members, the PLA meets the first Tuesday of each month at 7:00 P.M. at C. C. Slaughter's, 219 NW Davis Street. Many members meet there early, at 6:00 P.M., to have dinner together before the meeting.

LULU'S PERVY PLAYHOUSE.

Sorry guys. It's women only for this s.e.xy "play party" held on the second Sat.u.r.day of each month. For time and location, check out the website www.spiretech.com/~auntie/ lulu. htm.

M & M DANCES.

Named for Marv and Marsha, these swingers' dances are held on the fourth Sat.u.r.day of each month at 8:00 P.M. For details, call 503-285-9523.

STRIPPER BINGO.

Also organized on an irregular basis by the Portland Cacophony Society, this game uses bingo cards designed for, well, strip clubs. Instead of numbers and letters, each s.p.a.ce is marked with a typical stripper detail. Did she slap her own a.s.s? Did she tweak her nipple? Clean your gla.s.ses with her manicured pubic hair? Did he pick up your tip money with his a.s.s? You need to watch for all these little details and mark them off until you can yell "Bingo!" And please, tip the dancers who make all this fun possible.

XES.

Located at 415 SW Thirteenth Avenue, XES is a private s.e.x club for men. Inside is a maze of black-painted plywood with nonstop p.o.r.no playing on monitors mounted overhead. Within the maze you'll find plenty of tiny rooms for privacy, plus a leather s.e.x sling right in the center of things. The only room with a bed is also wired with a video camera so the entire club can watch you in action. The club runs from 7:00 P.M. until 4:00 A.M. and has more than fifteen hundred members who pay about $4.00 for an annual membership, plus $8.00 per visit.

ZIPPERS DOWN.

Located in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the Club Portland bathhouse, the "paramilitary" s.e.x club Zippers Down is at 303 SW Twelfth Avenue. Comprising most of the city block, the bas.e.m.e.nt is decorated in army-surplus everything, with barrack bunks and acres of camo netting hung to create the full M.A.S.H. effect. The management has even hauled a real w.i.l.l.i.e.s Jeep down here and wired it so the headlights work. p.o.r.no plays on monitors overhead, and the fantasy is complete.