The Fetish Ball
Saturday night, Hyperia Nightclub in Houston, Texas: the Fetish Ball… Your Brave Reporter was forced to attend when a friend said “Hey, wanna go to the Fetish Ball?” I went with a small group that included my friend Misti; who, I must say, looked elegant and sexy in a silk blouse, short skirt, fishnet stockings, and heels. Misti’s make-up was perfect as always. Misti flashed me in the bathroom and I still cannot tell where in those panties my favourite transvestite friend manages to tuck away the package. I was almost wearing a skintight katsuit which was slashed very literally to ribbons in every possible direction, so basically I was wearing threads. The Ball turned out to be more or less like Friday night at Numbers except lacking the communal warmth and laid back atmosphere. Sort of Numbers on speed vs. Numbers on XTC. The place was full of genuine wannabe’s and closet S&M types. There was probably about 12 gorgeous bodies in the place and the rest were what I shall generously term “average”. Lots of leather and vinyl was seen but my personal favourites (besides myself) were: the chick wearing a chainmail tank top over perfect naked breasts, the topless chick who had covered her nipples with little stick-on mirror tiles, and some nicely built topless guys with cool tribal tattoos. One couple apparently thought it was a costume party; the guy was “dressed” as the Devil and the girl was some sort of Greek statue, the two of them were wearing more body paint than fabric. Speaking of body paint, the obligatory body-painting artist was in attendance… I wouldn’t advise him to quit his day job in terms of talent but also not to quit this job in terms of painting semi-naked chicks. There was a performance by a silver-mohawked male dancer who was fetchingly pierced all over his upper body with multiple fish hooks dangling large sequins. That was fascinating for about 30 seconds. Later there was another body-piercing performance by a chick who was piercing her bondaged female sub. She would insert pins through the sub’s back skin, then attach a ribbon… then another pin… another ribbon… another pin…. WOW, I started thinking, what WILL she do next!!?? Misti ran into some of her transvestite chums, most of whom made Misti look like a supermodel, although they were very sweet to talk to and very open about their lifestyle. I learned amongst other things that when taking female hormones their male equipment “stops working”. Pleasingly, I had several people come up to me to tell me my outfit was “awesome”… another ego cookie was being filmed by the British documentary crew while I was dancing on an empty dance floor. The only potential drawback to that is that they followed me around for about 10 minutes filming me and I couldn’t help wondering if they showed the documentary in England, what if my parents saw it?? Oh well. I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want, including deny like crazy that it was me and/or demand to know what my parents were doing watching something like THAT in the first place. At one point one of the bartenders asked me to step up on the bar and model my outfit, which I graciously did and then even more graciously kicked over the drink he had just given me while climbing back down. Fairly early on a tall, leggy blonde started up a conversation with me at the buffet while her wussy boyfriend hovered nearby. I happened to run into them again a little later while avidly watching an artiste hammer long nails into his sinuses. Blondie made the ridiculous move of mistaking me for a sub and tugged on my hair (actually, it felt kind of nice) and I quickly corrected her misperception by spinning her around, yanking up her vinyl minidress and spanking her underwear-free backside. After that she was putty in my hands and followed me around begging to do my bidding. That was briefly entertaining, especially when I basically stripped her in front of Misti and anyone else who was watching. Then I started getting bored again so I sent her away with the instruction to “go play for an hour and then report back” which she did so then I sent her to stand in the corner where I left her in timeout (she’s probably still there). Naturally, I ran into a few Numbers irregulars, including Jeff the Bartender who was wearing Frankenstein boots and way too much eyeshadow, and Mike the DoorGuy. I refrained from asking Mike at which high school he had found his date, but only narrowly, I would imagine the younger they are the less they’ll realize how “unequipped” the rumours say he is. All in all, it was an interesting night but I’ve had far better times at Numbers.
♥
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