I am looking to discuss the historic impact that these two clubs have had (especially with regular patrons of both establishments.) A recent conversation I had included 3 "straight" men, all talking about how they visited The Vault. They had all been there (to The Vault) at different times and miss it (of course nothing happened at the clubs, I'm being sarcastic.)

My thoughts are that these two clubs gave a lot, probably more than any clubs that will ever arise. Let me know your thoughts.

Well, I was more a Vault girl, never really a Hellfire girl which was much more freaky fetishy for my tastes (though I do recall I finger fucked- with a condom- a very cute 22 yr old Columbia music student bent over one of those wooden horses and received a round of applause when he came all over himself and onto the filthy floor). Memories light the corners of my mind.

The Vault is where I discovered the pleasures of NJ boys in baseball caps, and they seemed to always be drawn to me, or I to them. That was where I learned the power of being a "special girl" and all that comes with that moniker.

Sweetie introduced me to the sins and pleasures of the Vault, and I would go there with her, Faux Pas, and Babe Duke (and then later just by myself many times). We would see Flotilla, who would pretend to not know us--sssh, I'm busy, she would hush us-- then as the boys walked past, she would "ppppssssst" at them, and maybe they would stop (her tactic never seemed that successful to me). Many of the girls would stop in looking for trade (we all know who we were). I was trying to explain to someone what NYC used to be like, and the Vault was one of those places- where you could meet anyone (and a lot of times did), and I met all kinds there- good and bad- sex I mean. And there were the regulars, like the tranny in the dress who would roll around the dirty floor in her bad wig and lingerie (can't remember her name)...and the guy who would jerk off in the prison cell but not let anyone touch his humongous cock...the girl in the sling who would 'ejaculate' across the floor- literally SHOOT while her guido boyfriend worked her pussy every which way, and then there was the staff...Brigitte (now there was an OLD salty broad, but a nice one if she liked you) and Mistress Sharon, who once invited me to do a scene with her on stage with this very cute sub man all tied up, and I tickled him with the feather while she tightened the knots. And the doormen who were always so nice to me, alas I forget their names.

And the "Vault Rats" as we coined them, a bunch of Philipino trannies who would do anyone and everyone with no discretion (and a cute white boy was the highest prize in their twisted caste system), as if they were tallying up their catches each night. They would call to Sweetie "hey girl, we saw you on DQMTV" with their accents, which we always thought so funny. We were not very nice to them in retrospect, and for me, I know because they were my competition for the white boys.

Sweetie and I talked about one thing just last night, that I will never ever forget. She was sitting on the bench across from Faux Pas and I, and she had one leg up on a stool (her new English handmade heels) and this slave was sitting there watching her...Faux and I were chatting...and then he pounced and had that heel (that had been all over the filthy floor of the Vault!) in his mouth and worked that heel up and down like it was his last lollipop. My jaw dropped, as I had never seen that before, and Faux and I just looked at each other stunned, even she was a bit taken aback. Mirthful Sweetie just rode it out, while he worked that heel in and out of his mouth and let the gawkers watch. Now that was a show!

There were also the Third Sex and Shangrila parties that Sweetie hosted that we all went to...which were tranny sex parties upstairs on the top floor. I met Tim Roth there one Halloween night, and I said "We know each other?" thinking it was an old friend because he looked so familiar, and he said "no, I would remember that," winked and then went back to the rest of the party downstairs (he wasn't a chaser, but he was polite about it). Then it occurred to me who he was. I missed the time Tony Danza was there, he had come and left by the time I had arrived(without doing anything according to the doorman).

As I think about it, there are so many memories of that place. By the later 90s, I remember strolling over there late nights after Click&Drag, but it had lost it's lustre (or maybe I had tired of the scene a bit), but then it closed shortly thereafter, which was so sad, because it was a NYC institution, and an option, where now there are none like that.

[This message was edited by randella on 09-04-03 at 07:04 AM.]

My first exposure to The Vault was when it was still bumped up against Jays back on 14th and 9th Ave. My God the fabulous, freaky times that abounded there. I really immersed myself in the freewheeling, hedonistic frenzy that could take you over on any given Friday or Saturday night. Run by Janet who ultimately ran into into its grave by choosing to become a media whore with a business that thrived on anonymity. She and her henchmen Anthony were on every talk show from Morton Downey Jr. to Howard Stern, and that opend a Pandora's Box of bridge and tunnel gawkers that sent the true players packing and made room for low rent hustlers and hookers who used the place for an office instead of the true mecca it had been for sexual expression when I had first walked thru their doors. My first real memory of The Vault was walking in a backroom and seeing a hacidic gentleman stripped naked but for his yamukah and ringlets to identify his persuasion. He was bound and gagged to a huge wooden cross with the phrase JESUS SAVES emblazoned on his very hairy chest in freshly dripped red candle wax. Then there was "Aunt Millie" and aged transvestitie (by day a NYC court Judge) who would sit in a sling in curly showgirl wig and lingerie and joyfully recieve elbow deep fistings from passers-by and work herself over with mindblowing gigantic dildo's waiting for the next person to lend her a "hand". There was the gentleman who had the Robinson Caruso fetish and would grovel on the floor in tatterd pants, and piece of real fishnet, and some rope wrapped around his head. Very "lost on the desert island" looking to be rescued. I encounterd one evening out of my mind on some narcotic a gorgeous Brooklyn Guido in full catholic girl communion drag with ruffled white childrens dress, pearl crown with veil, little white pocketbook, anklets, white patent leather maryjanes, and a huge baby bottle on a plastic chain hanging around his neck. he called himself SISSY but pronounced it with an overdon lisp making himself THITHY. God how Babe Duke and I tortured that one!!! When The Vault moved to the old MARS space on the West Side HWY I promoted two successful parties for tv's, ts's, and admirers. My God if those walls could talk. I still ahve men IM online and rgale about the amazing time they would have at those parties that went until 8am. I carried on a 2 year affair with a Puerto Rican Tattoo artist named Reuben that was a fierce education in submission. Lucifer the bouncer was a fabulous giant of a man that appeared in MAdoodoo's Sex book eating her pussy. I once did a scene with a man recently released from Levinworth prison where i beat him with a pledge paddle, a leather starp, and finally got a rise out of him and his well scarred ass from ciggie burns, by taking off my thin leather soled mule and beating his ass with the bottom of its filthy sole. Encounterd so many celebs getting their kicks, I had a group encounter with 2 very famous RAP groups of the early 90's. I was their "pass around Patty". YIKES the scandal we would cause. We would decide to start a traffic jam and start shamelessly cavorting for the pleasure of the men folk and literally could have 30 admirers standing in front of us jerking for all they were worth. The saddest thing I encounterd was a former child star who's sexual tastes weres so vile, nobody could take him seriously. Also there was the cop with the scat fetish who would literally beg the girls to pooh on him in a bathtub. I could go on forever. I will check in later for another trip down MAMARY LANE.

Wow! Write THAT book! Randella AND Sweetie.... Write THAT book! I would pay to hear more of these tales......

Do you remember Pony Boy at The Vault? He used to give skinny girls rides on his back which was equipped with a harness and he wore a bridle on his head. I don't think he spoke, he just say "nay."

I remember Pony Boy! He spoke, and he and I talked, but I never rode on his saddle. I don't remember even what we talked about, but it was at the bar (and I think Brigitte introduced us while sipping diet cokes), and then I saw him on some talk show...Geraldo I think, but he did speak! He used to come to Jackie now and then too.

Though the Vault was for all kinds, once Sweetie started the tranny parties upstairs, these were specialized just for us, so the cupeth raneth over for us girls with the odds in our favor (a typical ratio was 8-10 girls to 20-30 men). And a la Althea Loveless, I made the tapes (cassettes!) for the party, which Sweetie stated should be "dirty rock-n-roll" all culled from my 70s vinyl (which incidentally some 19 yr old boy I took home once snarkily commented "you must be old, you have records"), and this helped the patrons and the girls all get their dirty groove on.

Amid the draped pink and purple tulle all over that 4th floor attic (that we spent one hot & drippy August afternoon and evening tacking all over), it looked like a beautiful fantastical nasty boudoir, and so clandestine because you had to walk up those four flights of stairs to get there, and for us girls, in heels no less. You had to know it was there. It was like a candy store for us (and so many of NYC's girls came in for some play)....and we all got our fill of the men that came to taste forbidden shemale fruits. In retrospect, I can't believe I sat on those couches knowing what had gone on. I still talk (and see occaisonally) to one of those boys I met the opening night...which was 8 years ago. There was one back corner, that was a recessed locked door, and it was in the darkness (and the place was pretty dimmed already), and that is where I would take Those Who I Wanted to Do More To, and I certainly did things that were not 'ladylike' in those dark recesses. Bumping, grinding, and humping against that black wall, and working those boys till they had their release (not on my dress! on the wall please), and this is where I learned the necessity of keeping sanitary towelettes in my purse. Sweetie would snicker at me, when I would emerge from that dark corner a messy-mouthed-marvin with smeared or no lipstick. The mother to us all, she would say "come here" and take out her magic powder puff, which managed to smooth out all the cartoonish smeared lipstick, and anoint my face with a few puffs and then I would tip off the bathroom to reapply my liner and lipstick, then ready for the next one. Piggy piggy piggy at the trough...

[This message was edited by randella on 09-05-03 at 08:48 AM.]

Remember Hattie Hathaway with that tiny little Postal worker was it? Con Ed man. Something like that. I think his name was Don. 4foot 5 black dude with a horse cock that we would stand on the bar and make crank out a load if the night had a lull. Hattie would show up in these tortuous looks that only the hardest core chaser could appreciate, and this little guy would follow her around like a puppy. I remember one night gettin on stage with a cracker laid atop my ample bosom and hostessing a "shooting" contest. I am so glad I have given up MOST drugs. What would really get crazy was when we would open the roof and Chi Chi LaRue, Jimmy James, Linda Simpson, and countless other girls would be doing SHOWS across a Manhattan skyline. GORGEOUS!!!! Ebony Jett did artwork for me of a beautiful Grecian Goddess with huge cock and balls hanging out under her toga. I still have the original. That is where I met Rose Royalle for the first time as well as Peggy Couch, Corvette and so many others who darkend that Penthouse door.

Sweetie/Randella:
wouldn't you be interested in doing a book on The Vault/Hellfire and the whole NY fetish scene in the 80's and early 90's. All these great stories, people, and scenes have to be shared! you owe it to your public!!!! PLEAZZZE! If you email me I''ll tell you how we could get it published!!! wink, wink--I know someone in publishing! PLEAZZE this would be such a hot book!
--UF

...it was Con Edison, but he worked in the bowels of the generators in Brooklyn. He later became my first stalker.
I also remember the Robinson Crusoe guy. He was called "Dustball," I believe and spent evenings crawling around and groveling on the filthy floor.

Oh yes...I remember them in the beginning and during and after.

A book of those tales would be worthy girls. Let's write it.

I think I might be able to recall a LOT of details from that period but I need some reminding.

Hey! Psssssst! Flotilla..

Oh the amazing freaks that came thru those doors. I must say The Vault was the better of the two. Hellfire had that horrendous woman Marie as a manager, who sadly contracted some sort of nasty cancer or brain tumor or something very sad. A shrew none the less. A Brooklyn housewife with scraggly hair, a greasy complexion,and toaster titties that you could slide under a door. And a voice! a voice that went thru you like a nail, and always optimum volume. Could ruin a mood in a heartbeat. There was an earthiness to both places tho, I found appealing. Both had that healthy pagan edge. The Vault courted a more glamorous crowd however. There was a guy with a big hair fetish. Stunning boy with dark good looks and a huge piece. The higher your hair the more turned on he would be. He would ask how long it took to do your hair, and masturbate the whole time. What kind of hairspray did I use? Does teasing the hair hurt? INSANITY!!! Of course the Vault is where I met "Bob" a professional black man with a "plantation" fantasy. He longed for the old days of the south and I was the masters wife in the big house. This articulate man would become an Amos and Andy carictature, stoopin and shuffling about. It would blow my mind. There was also the couple that had the crazy cum fascination, where he would drag her around by the hair inviting men to cum on her face. Sometimes at least 50-75 men would unload on her cara and then you would spy them late into the night, him cradling her in his arms with countless loads all over her face, hair, chest and shoulders. her eyes glued shut from the semen, and he would gently.........lick it off of her. I swear it's true!!!!!! I actually wretched when I witnessed it first hand. Tons of mafiosa coming thru looking for "special girls". Rap stars, uptight republicans needing to be naughty. There was an ANCIENT Tv who used to host fetish parties at her apartment. They were called Carlas Black Stockings. She would turn up at the Vault every so often. A face that would scare small children. Garishly painted and verrrrry old, but legs to die for. Long, toned legs, of course in exquisite black stockings with seams, and always a 5 inch stiletto. The genius of this lady was she would wear a huge picture hat with a very heavy veil. The dress would be tight and high necked with long sleeves, Always a pair of satin gloves. Basically she showed nothing but her legs, and the admirers abounded. In proper light she would send you screaming if you got a look at her face, but she knew how to work it. How about CATHY the coatcheck "lady". Dear God! A short business like wig, no make up and always a tennis skirt of every fabric and flavor. Usually a black turtle necked sweater, pearls, black wool tennis skirt, black stockings, and a sensible office pump. Talked with a thick, husky Jersey accent, but loved a good caning across her bottom. Always plenty of ickies in french maid outfits. I prefer the ones that wore caps.Hooray for a mop cap. I witnessed nude dwarf tossing, mummification, shrink wrappings, flesh corsetry done with fishing hooks and satin ribbon down a bare back. Lived for the infantalism freaks. Goo goo, gah gah. Every weekend was a circus. What about the huge german croiss dresser that wore thigh high leather boots, a leather skirt, skit tight leather jacket, full leather hood with zipped mouth, leather gloves, and a wig plopped on top of it all. She smelled like a BARN. A slaughter barn. very creepy. There was the crack smoking optician, that liked to be trampled, the little guy that was into getting pinched, Louie a yacht builder from Montauk that had one of the biggest penises I have ever witnessed and liked being jerked off with satin gloves. God I want to put on a little black lace number and take off into the night!!!! Oh and as for FLOTILLA, she would NEVER admit to have been there EVERY WEEKEND for a thousand years.

And each weekend Flotilla then would go have a snack over at Florent and sit at the counter by herself, and god help you if you interrupted her feed with a "hello", any other salutation or comment...

I do remember the Long Island couple that came to Third Sex a lot...can't remember their names though. Sucessfull thirty-something couple complete with accents- he was a dark haired nice-looking italiano joe businessman always dressed nicely (and smelled good too), and she was a tanned gorgeous bleached blond pharmeceutical rep, with a strippers body and she wore complete outfits straight out of the Fredericks of Hollywood catalogue. He loved to jerk off for all the girls, and we all sucked his cock at one time or another, while she watched. They were definitely exhibitionists. I remember ChiChi LaRue suck-piggying on it on one occaison and making him shoot onto the floor. They came a lot for a good part of that party's life, didn't they? One night, we 3 ended up walking out at the same time, and they offered to drop me off as they were staying at a hotel at the Seaport, which was on the way. How nice of them I thought, but by the time we had gotten down Broadway to my apartment, I got the jist of their kind deed. So I agreed to be the guest star in their fantasy, with my own willingness to experiment. They came up my apartment, but once inside, he couldn't have been any quicker in getting my panties off (he never showed ANY interest in any of the us girls' ladysticks at the party...never in my recollection at all, so this was a very pleasant surprise to me) and then started providing me with a full servicing. Hungry like the wolf. She and I made out while he did that, and I caressed her breasts which were really pretty and nice (and as a nurse for cancer ladies, I know breasts), and this was something I had never ever done before! Her body was hot, and in a strange way I was attracted to her, so it made the whole experience very appealing for me. Then I fingered her, which was also a new experience and I guess I did ok with this, because she seemed to like it, all the while he was going to town down south. Then he fucked her while she and I made out on my bed, and then he shot his load all over her belly. I gave her a handiwipe, and afterwards we chatted and of course I smoked (they were so health concious neither of them joined me in this post-coital ritual), and my inquiring mind wanted to understand them better, so I got the sense that she did this more for him and his fetish for the trannies, but her thrill was to wear all the slutty 6" heels and pussyduster skirts, and she wore a new one each week.

After that night, I don't think I saw them ever again. I did try a couple of other M/F couple threesomes (one college-aged couple from the Hellfire, but he passed out and she wanted me to fuck her with her pierced clitty- whoa! that was too much for me in one sitting, so I declined, and made her roust him and get out, I was nice though, but I was done with them at that point). However, the other experiences were never the same kind of attraction or comfort level that I had with those two from Long Island, so I ceased experimenting with that sexual dynamic. I tried it, liked it a bit, but it really was not my cup of tea.

[This message was edited by randella on 09-06-03 at 05:17 PM.]

HELLFIRE CLUB NY IS RE-INCARNATED AS Fetish Warehouse NY Club/Dungeon Hellfire Club NY has been re-incarnated! Lenny Waller is back with a new club! Fetish Warehouse NY
Fetish Warehouse NY Club/Dungeon
117 25th Street (3rd & 25th at the dead end!)
Brooklyn, NY 11232 (only minutes from the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel) 718-369-5009 Fri & Sat nites 10 p.m. until 4 a.m.
An adult fetish fantasy bdsm club catering to all fetishes and bdsm. For the novice to the experienced. 5000 sq. feet of play ground! A couples area! Bondage equipment! Mistresses! Juice & soda bar! and much much more!
Men-$35.00
Couples-$35.00
Fully Dressed TV's and TS's $15.00
Women FREE


MARCH 2004 CALENDAR OF EVENTS

3/5
Mistress Evil's Strap on Night. Watch Mistress Evil in action. Be taken by her in ways you never dreamed of! Watch her in action!

3/6
Bald Beaver Night. Bring a lady who is shaved and your admission is $20. NO OTHER DISCOUNTS APPLY

3/12
Hairy Bush NightBring a lady that isn't shaven and your admission is $20. NO OTHER DISCOUNTS APPLY

3/13
10 p.m.-ST. PATTY'S DAY PARTY KISS THIS AND IT AIN'T THE BLARNEY STONE & LITTLE SCHOOL GIRLS NIGHT must be over 21.
*EARLY PARTY By invitation only websitewww.msmargaretdavis.com5 p.m.-10 p.m. Margaret Davis and the east coast spankers.

3/19
Beginners party Mistress Barbara takes control! For those new to s & m and the curious. Make friends, ask questions and explore your fantasies! Great for 1st timers!

3/20
Jack & Jill fetish play party.Masturbation, fetish and s & m playing

3/26
Leather, Lace & LatexShow off your sexiest or your raunchiest outfit!Fully dressed tv's & ts's free tonight only

3/27BBW Party. Big Beautiful Women and the men and women that adore and admire them

Stop by and say hello! See old friends from Hellfire Club NY and Manhole NY and make some new friends!
Everyone is welcome!
In pain & pleasure,
Mommy

In pain & pleasure,
Mommy

I use to go to the vault and i remember this guy sucking this GIRLS toes and i told him he was sucking a guys toe! He took the toe out of his mouth and was staring at the toe,the girl(sylvia) just started laughing! it was so funny! sylvia was my friend who lived on 45th and 8th.

like the tranny in the dress who would roll around the dirty floor in her bad wig and lingerie (can't remember her name)...

Sammy Jo?

glorya hole.

my other half, Lenny Waller, operated the Vault and Hellfire and Manhole and Cellblock 28 to name a few. He would love to hear your memories and stories about the clubs.
you can email him directly at smdad at optonline.net
hugs all
gail
StriktMommy

The Hellfire and Vault were great clubs and deeply missed by folks like me and my buds from a forum called "Dickflash". We are always hoping and waiting for Lenny to re-open somewhere soon. Those clubs were a very special part of my life.

I was a regular at all the Hellfire locations and the Vault. I stumbled into the old Hellfire in my mid twenties about twenty five years ago and ordered a can of bud for a buck. Five minutes later I was surrounded by a group of Asian lady boys who pulled down my pants and underwear and took turns blowing me. I broke away from them and went back to the bar for another can of Bud.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing all around me and being a hard core exhibitionist and flasher I quickly realized that here was a safe venue for my perverted lust of masturbating in public. That night I took my cock out and jerked off four times in front of various woman. Over the next twenty five years I would shoot hundreds of cum shots openly in front of all kinds of ladies.

I tried never to crowd anyone like the hoards of masturbating regulars but would rather stand or sit in a spot where everyone could see me. Of course there would have to be a lady or ladies near by, but I was as respectful as I could be.

I would often sit at the bar next to a women and slowly masturbate. Sometimes I would engage in conversation and ask them about their panties, a big fetish of mine. I would ask them to watch me cum as I stroked my hard cock off to climax. It was all so good.

Over time the rules at the club changed and fucking and blow jobs were prohibited. This was a bit of a downer since I did sometimes let pretty trannies suck me off into their mouths. And a few times I fucked one of the regular patron black girls in one of the back booths. They also stopped selling buds. But the club was still the best for a masturbating flasher like myself.

I became very friendly with a group of Black chicks from Queens and one Black girl from Brooklyn. I would take off all my clothes and get one of them to jerk me off in the most openly spot possible. I would sometimes wear womans panties. It was so hot standing there in nothing but a pair of pink nylon panties while getting a good hand-job.

In the late 70's early 80's NYC was still a perverts dream. There was Monday nights at "Platos Retreat", or you could go to the "Midnight Interlude", or the old "Paddles". 42nd St. Times Square had many good spots to publicly jerk off at: first row at "Show World, "711" was good but no club beat the "Hellfire". It was for me the best place. Even all the Ho strolls all over the city took a back seat to Hellfire.

NYC changed and It was the Hellfire & Vault, then just the Hellfire, then the place in Brooklyn on 25th St. Time Square died out, strip clubs closed, strolls disappeared. Everything changed. It really sucks these days.

pp

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Peterpockets,

I was never there when the club was called Hellfire but I did go to the Vault in the mid 80's. I went when the rules became a bit stricter. I had two friends that always went to the Vault,, Jimmy and Linda,, I would tag along with them. One had to be careful when walking around the vault club, one never knew when they would be hit by a stray shot of cum while walking about.