Dan Kaufman discovers spanking, pole dancing and raunchy burlesque while investigating Sydney's edgiest clubs.

THERE'S a whipping post in the corner, the coat-check room is manned by girls in lingerie and women of all ages and body types are dressed in tight corsets while men reveal far more of their bodies than most people would ever want to see. This is Hellfire, arguably Australia's most notorious fetish club, and as I perch nervously on a sofa wondering what on earth I'm doing here, a large bear of a man sits next to me and takes off his shirt.

"Are you a Hellfire virgin?" he barks.

"Ah, I guess so," I say hesitantly as he wraps a chain around his neck. "I mean, this is my first time."

"And you came by yourself?" he asks.

I nod anxiously. My neurotic mind whirs furiously, trying to figure out whether I should run for my life or stick it out a little longer. On the one hand, the men here are scary. On the other - well, I did mention the women in tight corsets, right?

The bear smiles benevolently at me. "You must be scared," he says in a surprisingly gentle tone. "The first time I came here, my hands were shaking from nerves."

He introduces himself as a self-employed tradesman who believes life is too short not to explore "special interests". Then, without prompting, he explains how things work at Hellfire: there are floor shows that involve light bondage but there's no sex on the premises. Instead, he says, the club is an excuse for like-minded people to dress up in fetish gear and socialise.

"The real S&M action happens in private parties at people's houses," the bear says, before inviting me to such a party the following night at a North Shore mansion. Not wishing to end up in a scene that could come from Eyes Wide Shut, I thank him for the invite before hastily escaping to the opposite end of the club.

Among the pierced and tattooed young clubbers you'd expect in a place like this are a lot of people who look like your average clean-cut suburbanites, albeit ones wearing rubber and latex suits. One woman in her early 30s, whose corset is so tight it puts Wonderbras to shame, says she's a graphic designer here for the first time and feels guilty for leaving her three children at home by themselves. Apparently her husband often comes here and she wanted to see for herself what it was like.

The floor shows include a lesbian burlesque number as well as pole dancers fitted out with fake fangs (at least, I hope they're fake) but people-watching is the real entertainment. There's a guy on the ground clenching a dog bowl in his teeth while a woman uses his back as a footrest, people are taking turns on the whipping post and a woman is parading around in nothing but a full-body fishnet stocking with clothes pegs clamped to a delicate part of her anatomy. Laundry will never seem the same again.

Hellfire is on the third Friday of every month from 9.30pm to late at The Gaff (rear-lane entry), 16-18 Oxford Square, Darlinghurst. Phone 0410 696 036. Cover charge is $25 and a firm dress code applies. See http://www.hellfiresydney.com.