There's a N.Y.E. party in the bay area being put on by the promoter of a major fetish event that is supposed to be private -- first 300 people to buy tickets get in, and they don't really want anyone to promote the event except through personal invitations, but it seems fair to pass along the rough details to you all.
I haven't decided yet whether I am going, but it sure sounds like a winner and it should have some really exquisite fetish / fetishists. Kirsten and I will probably make some kind of decision on what we are doing in the next 48 hours, so if there's any other events or private parties going on worth mentioning, please let us know.
If I know you and you would like to attend the event, pls. let me know and I will send you details in email. Who knows... maybe we can make a group of it!
The journey started the day you bought your ticket. At the time you thought to yourself "Open bar, private party, this New Year's is looking up!"
You had no idea.
As you climbed the stairs and entered the party your eyes were instantly pulled to the bodies on the dance floor, most decked out in the most exquisite fetish designs, some in nothing at all. You would have stood there for minutes if a friendly staff member hadn't been trying to get your attention.
"Could you put down the New Year's resolution you want help breaking after midnight?" she sweetly asked.
You learned of the contest to start at midnight at the dawn of the new year. Each of the 300 guests would be given a tag to wear with the New Year's resolution they wanted help breaking after midnight. Whomever they let help them would earn their card. The temptress or tempter with the most cards at 1 a.m. would receive the grand prize and no doubt the accolades of all whose resolutions they helped break.
Your eyes strayed back to the dance floor. An image of you and one of the dancers behaving in a way that would have gotten you thrown out of any other club popped into your head. You grabbed a pen, writing that you resolve not to do what you'd thought of, resolving at the same time to make sure that that dancer learned of your resolution before the witching hour.
The hours until midnight passed in a blur of activity: stage shows in the Theatre, sucking on things in the Hookah Lounge, a smoke and an intimate conversation in the harem, reclining on pillows, Middle-Eastern, Indian, and other ambient music in the background. You stopped into the Hedonist Lounge several times for drinks, a quick massage, and a boot polishing. "Need any supplies?" queried another staff member? You grinned and reached for a few select items, thinking of midnight.
Finally it came. You put down your glass of premium champagne as the countdown was finished the contest began! You searched for the object of your desire only to find that they had already begun working on their collection. Before you knew it a moan has escaped their target's mouth and their card had been handed over, but before you could act they had ensnared a second victim. Disappointed, you turn away and seek cards of your own only to be tapped on the shoulder as the contest reaches its final phase.
With a greedy grin and a fist full of cards, the dancer confessed, "I was hoping to save the best for last, that is, if you still have your card?"
Later, spent, you head back down to the bar hoping that you haven't missed last call. The bartender is still pouring. You look up at the clock. It's 3:30 a.m.
"Hmmm, what should I do for the next two-and-a-half hours?" you thought. Then you realized you'd been grinning from ear to ear. "Happy New Year's indeed!"