Sunday 25 November 2012

Kinky Tikki: Down the Rabbit Hole


Part 1

Tied up, topless and immobilised onstage in a surreal fetish bar, waiting for the police to rush in and deport me on the spot, I wondered how on earth I’d got there. Well, let’s see….

One of the things I most wanted to do in Tokyo right from the start was to check out some shibari, or erotic rope bondage. Being tied up seems to make me feel instantly relaxed and submissive, and from the few experiences I’d had, I knew I liked it, so what’s a girl to do when she comes to the home of shibari? Get right in there, that’s what. I wasn’t fully prepared for the surreal night I was letting myself in for, though…

Basically, a friend of mine who’s an international expert in rope bondage gave me the contact of  a guy who was big in the Japan scene, so he could introduce me to a couple of places. This sounded great at the time, until I was waiting in one of the grottiest parts of town on my own, to be picked up in the car of this fifty-something guy who had sounded on the phone rather like the phonehacker’s impression of a Nigerian scammer – 'Con ah have your bankaccountdetailll?' I stood there uneasily on a street corner, at a safe distance from the pimps, mentally going over polite ways to back out if he turned out to give me really bad vibes. Thankfully, up rolled a debonair silver fox of a Frenchman in a tiny racing Porsche that already contained his Japanese girlfriend. I felt instantly at ease, and allowed myself to be bundled into the back, where I could barely sit upright, and driven, playboy style, to the club.

Walking in we passed a load of Yakuza – Japanese mafia – whom Silver Fox Frenchie informed me were just there to keep the peace and make sure things ran smoothly. 'Do not bozzer zem and zey will not bozzer you.' Yakuza and wasps – the only difference is that one takes some of your fruit and the other takes some of your profits, apparently.

After becoming a member, they gave me a pink wristband for single females, or as they put it, “lonely girls”, and SFF paid for the whole thing so smoothly and quickly that I only realised it had all happened after I was in. It was a small bar with one main room and a low stage, strung with tacky paper Halloween decorations, childrens’ games like Hungry Hippos and Boppit on each low table, with a pole in the middle of the room, a couples’ room off to one side, and a changing room with a rack of silly costumes. Quintessentially Japanese in its mix of cute and filth. SFF presented me to the two guys who ran the bar – both stars on the Tokyo shibari scene – like a gift. Behind the polite Japanese smiles, their eyes lit up. And low and behold, they were both young and cute. I was a happy bunny, in spite – or maybe because – of being treated like an exotic blonde treat.

Things were slow at first. There were quite a few Japanese guys running around in schoolgirl/sailor costumes and being harmlessly silly, and a girl in a bunny suit who was getting quite a lot of attention. For the first couple of hours I made polite conversation with my benefactor, surveyed the scene and fended off the approaches of drunk Japanese men, which wasn’t difficult, because even in a fetish bar, they’re pretty polite and respectful of personal space. Plus I could just pull the ignorant foreigner card if in doubt. I felt like I’d walked into another world rather, and blinked dazedly, taking it all in and adjusting slowly like someone entering a cave.

Things got a bit more sexual, gradually – a woman got tied up onstage with the top guy who owned the bar – we’ll call him K – another girl got pleasured whilst a guy next to me shone a torch at her lady parts, and other people kept running around with Hitachi magic wands if you don’t know what it is, it’s probably the best known and most used vibrator on the kink/porn scenes, a giant, buzzing, mains powered behemoth of a thing) doing dastardly deeds. 

Bunny girl ended up in a groping pile, which I joined briefly just to see what Japanese boob felt like (underwhelming), and the ridiculously costumed men began wandering around wanking. One wanked at my hair for a little while, about a metre away (remember what I said about personal space even in a fetish bar?!) but I ignored him and he went away. I went back to sit on the sofas and watch SFF tie up his playmate rather nicely onstage, but Bunny Girl was having sex with several different men by this point, and she kept blocking my view. 

I was frankly a little bored, and stifled by the language barrier. Still, I felt I’d achieved what I’d come there to do, and seen some real Japanese shibari, so I contented myself with the fact I could go home a success.

Little did I know what else the night held in store...

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