There was a palpable hangover citywide, he says, from the “quality of life” actions taken by former Mayor Rudy Giuliani. Four years ago, Saynt was working in marketing and trend forecasting with his digital agency and exhausted with the heavily regulated NYC nightlife scene. Saynt, who speaks in a Instagram-comments vernacular punctuated by “Yas! Fire!,” leads a tour of the subterranean space, sharing the club’s origin story. Saynt - who is bearded, bisexual and wears a kilt and lots of silver jewelry - says members get to do almost anything they want at NSFW because they applied to be there, with the abiding best practices for consent being: “What we say at the club is: Anything but a ‘Hell, yes!’ is a ‘Hell, no!’ ” The application process can take six months and includes interviews with Saynt and a membership committee involving sexual histories and fantasies social media verification to confirm place of employment and to check friends and associates and a consent seminar entitled “Why Are We So Bad at Asking for Sex?” Later this year, a documentary about NSFW will air on Epix. The NSFW website, where members have profiles and can plan to meet (locally or at events around the country such as Art Basel Miami and Coachella), will soon be an app. Repped by Gersh, Saynt, 36, is in talks for a scripted TV series (along the lines of HBO’s Real Sex, re-created with actors) and a live-cam pornography deal showing performances at the space. The founder, who goes by the name Daniel Saynt (formerly Daniel Santiago), is a fashion blogger turned influencer agency head who is one of the owners of Nylon digital magazine. Whether or not NSFW is really more of a movement than a sex club - as maintained by its members, who include awards-nominated filmmakers and actors - it’s quickly becoming a platform. And, yes, twos, threes, fours and more are doing, well, more. Many of the women wear expensive lingerie, some men are wearing masks with their head-to-toe New York City black. The membership-only crowd is 60 percent female, according to the club’s owner, with a vibe that’s described by one recent attendee as “hetero-flexible.” Participants work mostly in entertainment, fashion and media. Some are in brick-walled spaces dressed as a jail or doctor’s office others are behind doors in private, by-reservation-only rooms that cost $1,000 a night and pay homage to the likes of Leonardo da Vinci. There, on Friday and Saturday nights, past a velvet rope, a bouncer and front-desk check-in, down a perilously steep flight of concrete stairs - illuminated red by a scrawling, Jenny Holzer-esque chyron urging “SEND NUDES” - about 100 people gather in a maze of 16 rooms. In a secret location on a quiet lower Manhattan corner, not far from the Hudson River, is a new sex club.
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