The three of us, Mr. Tanaka, my Japanese friend and me, are standing in the middle of the street somewhere in downtown Tokyo. After stuffing ourselves with one of the best yakitori (chicken skewers) I have had in years, we are discussing where to go next. A typical night would continue in a classic fashion – find a bar and have few drinks.

But today was not going to be a typical night. The topic of the past few minutes is touching mostly interesting subjects such as unusual night-life preferences and deviations. When Mr. Tanaka asks which bar do we want to go to, I smile and say:

“Well, since we are already here, why not trying something more… savoury?”

I am saying this to my friend as a verification and to Mr. Tanaka as a playful nudge.

“Sure, why not. Let me show you some interesting facets of ura-Tōkyō“, Mr. Tanaka smiles lightly, immediately changes directions, crosses the street, and asks us to follow him. We vaguely follow his steps as he starts to disappear in small streets, which look extremely dark when compared with the neon-lit streets of Ginza, one of the more luxurious cities of Tokyo.

Ura-Tōkyō is an expression for the “Hidden side of Tokyo” and even though throughout the past 10 years of my on-and-off relationship with this country I have heard a lot about its unusual night-life, I have only a vague idea what to expect.

After walking for approximately 5 minutes, we stop in front of a really shady places. One of those you would never want to enter by yourself – not because you don’t know what is inside, but because you exactly know what you can expect inside and you are not sure you will ever be able to leave the place with all your organs in place.

Nevertheless, we decide to trust Mr. Tanaka’s share of accumulated life experience and carefully descend the three flights of stairs that divide the outer world from the relaxation salon for all fetishists and SM manias to meet each other.

Yes, you read that right. We enter a relaxation salon for all fetishists and SM manias to meet each other. And just as you are doing right now, we are taking the expression at face value as well.

Mr. Tanaka opens the door to a large room with low ceilings. My eyes have to get used to the dark, but after few seconds I start to see things. And by things I mean… THINGS.

A lovely pair of whips…

… beautifully polished set of chrome hooks drilled into the ceiling…

… crazy amounts of things that are impossible to use without inflicting too much pain to any at least one of the participating parties…

… a smiling waiter welcoming us and saying “Welcome back Mr. Tanaka, I see you are bringing new guests with you today!”…

…a smiling Mr. Tanaka saying “Good evening, good evening Master. Can I get 3x pervert courses for me and my friends here?”…

…and a smiling waiter saying “Well of course, why don’t you sit over there into the corner and enjoy yourselves. The girls will bring you the drinks”.

At first I have no idea what girls he is talking about. The room is basically pitch black and… an… a… wow.

As my eyes get used to the darkness, slowly, in one of the corners of the room, they start to distinguish brilliantly shining combinations of latex, skin, corsets, and fishnets. Until that moment, I believed I have seen quite a few things in my life. Well, people are almost never correct about their lives.

We sit down in the other corner of the room and receive coasters coloured gold. Mr. Tanaka (I assume that by this time it’s quite clear that it is not his real name) sees my puzzled look and starts to explain:

“This is the pervert course I was talking about when we entered. No, don’t worry my friend, it is just a coaster saying that you are neither M nor S, that you are open to… experimentation.”

“Experi… uh, so, this is like, you know, a signal kind of thing?”

“Yeah, if you talk to someone, you both will know what you like and it makes the conversation easier.”

“Conversation. Right.”

“Don’t worry my friend, this is your first time, right? I’m not saying that there aren’t any crazy places, but this is a decent place.”

I am just about to ask another question regarding the decency, but suddenly a girl sits right next to me and asks me what I want to drink. I skim through the menu without even looking at her and decide to go for one of the more tender varieties of Ichiro’s malt. While looking rather rudely into the menu, I ask her what she prefers.

“Ichiro’s malt is a good choice, I will go for the same.”

She leaves and after few moments returns with two whisky glasses filled with my favourite Japanese blend and some ice.

“So, what have you been up to lately? Are you living in Tokyo or only visiting?” she asks.

I finally look up and I’m not sure how to react. I’m not sure where to look. First, the eyes. Then… The amazing quality of her visage. Stockings. Corset. Everything. Slowly, I try to perceive her as a whole, but my mind stops. I am not sure what amazes me more. Her vivid, yet effortless way of sitting in the tight corset? The unnaturally natural way of communication? How is it even possible to have a normal conversation with a girl dressed like that about what have you been up to lately in a almost completely dark room filled with so many things that even Mr. Christian would feel intimidated? (No, I haven’t read the book, nor seen the movie. Really. Stop sneering.)

I take a deep breath, smile, and reply. We start to talk about really random things – hobbies, lives, challenges, interests. After few seconds the only bizarre thing is how normal it feels. Of course, I am asking her how she feels working here and wearing what she is wearing. We talk about the customers she meets, random things she does, but over and over, there is no crazy sexual undertone. Only a very light, tingling tension, that could be virtually dismissed if not payed any attention to.

The evening goes on. Girl rotate after certain periods of time to cover the variety of customers, keep the conversation lively, and be possibly charged in case you want to prolong the time with a certain girl. Mr. Tanaka and I start to talk about how his interest into this world surfaced over the years. He talks about life, his personal issues, about how he was researching the Tokyo underworld, how he wrote a book about it, trying to understand how different fetishes work, and what are the factors that shape people in these ways. The stories are insanely deep and sincere. Mr. Tanaka is a former investment banker. Once, he wrote a book for children which won a literary award. He has his quirks and crazy points, like every person walking on this earth. But contrary to many people, Mr. Tanaka is perfectly OK with talking about it.

Yes, some Japanese people are closed, some are opened. But nothing is status quo. Nothing is as it seems to be on the surface. Many people or topics can be approached with the right tools – in this case, the correct way of communication. I perceive communication like an ideal camera – it shouldn’t obstruct your creativity, vision, and desire to express something. It is there to make things smooth. And I think that discussing the ups and downs of life while sipping great whisky in relaxation salon for all fetishists and SM manias to meet each other really is smooth.

After few drinks and few more random chats with other clients, we decide to leave. No, no crazy massages, no happy or sad or whatever types of endings. Just quality-time spent in a slightly kinky environment. A second before I step out of the venue, the smiling waiter approaches me and politely asks me if I am going to stay in Tokyo for a few more days.

“Yes, I should be still around for another 3-4 weeks.”

“In that case, here is a leaflet you might be interested in. We are holding kinbaku workshops every other Saturday.”

I take a look at the piece of paper coloured in pink hues. Kinbaku stands for bondage, the art of tying up the other person in a “good” way. I take out my smartphone, check the schedule, look the waiter in his eyes, and smile:

“Sure, see you next Saturday then.”

This evening, the neon lights of Ginza seemed to glow slightly more vividly than I ever remembered them.