Bondage Blog

This description of a bondage show in a Japanese goth club got my attention. Normally I don’t publish vanilla accounts that contain obligatory “this didn’t turn me on” disclaimers, but the scene is exotic enough to want to share, regardless:

So then, the music goes quiet and the lights dim [if such a thing is possible in a bar catering to goths], and Maya takes the stage and informs us that no photography is permitted for the following performance, which is a sure-fire indicator that you will DESPERATELY want to photograph whatever is about to transpire. This is the make-or-break moment when you wonder if you’re going to get your money’s worth. The reason? And I quote: “Girl’s gonna get naked”. Uh, sure.

You know, when I heard the first faux-ominous minor-chord, random-howling-and-scraping-noises “industrial” accompanying track start up, and saw this dude dressed as Dr. Mengele’s intern drag this tiny, traumatized looking chick they kidnapped in Thailand with nothing but panties and a button up shirt on stage, I was all like, “Yeah, whatever, another boring fetish performance. I’m going to get a drink.” The first few minutes did nothing to allay my suspicions, being the usual “put on handcuffs and blindfold, pretend to choke” routine. The girl was all down with making the obligatory doe-like wounded expressions.

But then, without warning, Captain Obvious throws our subject down like a pile of rags and scuttles off. Out saunters this dude in Hot Topic death raver pants and a matrix style tight matte shirt and this goofy white mask. I’m thinking, “Oh wow, now they’ve broken the WHITE MASK barrier. What next, smoke bombs and lasers? Maybe an acapella rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody?”

Well, was I ever in for it. What started out lame and predictable became the most enjoyable bondage scene I’ve ever witnessed. Not from a titillation or even schadenfreude viewpoint, but simply out of amazement at the incredibly intricate, technical prowess of it. That’s how the Japanese are with everything they devote themselves to, whether its calligraphy or juijitsu or hanging a girl upside-down by a hand and the opposite leg, coiled uncomfortably backwards like a ring and playing her like a guitar with various painful-looking devices. Dude was all tying these amazingly complex knots and stringing them through carabiners one handed, while simultaneously threading a piercing needle with the other hand BY CANDLELIGHT. WITH EASE. He pierced her nipple with that thing and then connected the thread to a ring type thing he had on and then did some symphony-conductor poses. The girl looked like this hurt her feelings, although that could have been because she was bent up like a pretzel slowly rotating 4 feet above the ground. Then he severed the fishing-line cord with the candle flame and went to work.

Now, another thing that earns this mack-daddy respect is he’s not afraid of a little of his own medicine, either: he tested the wax on his own tongue before giving her the business. All the while, instead of trying to look scary and domineering, he has this huge shit-eating grin on his Visual Kei makeup’d face, letting his actions achieve the desired effect, not some stupid poses. Need girl to turn around so you can get a knot from her armpit to the cuffs? Don’t just push her, spear her mouth with two fingers and twirl her on the suspending rope like a hooked fish. Done with the candle? Put it out on your tongue. Inventive little touches like that.

Then all the lights go off and my man starts twirling twin little floggers on the end of yo-yos that glow in the dark. It was like ravers with their glow-sticks on strings, except each revolution resulted in PAIN. Of the other kind, that is. The performance ends with our subject sprawled out motionless showing no sign of life, and the now unmasked assailant plants a gentle kiss on her cheek and strides off without a word, completely satisfied. It took people a few seconds to recover enough to clap.

Again, I totally don’t get off on that stuff at all, but I have a lot of friends who do and I understand it from an intellectual, if not visceral emotional sense; but this was just cool to watch from a visual, creative standpoint. It was the most flamboyant, exuberant such performance I’ve ever seen. Usually they just consist of a couple of ugly fat people pretending to whip each other and making stupid noises like a birthing cow. Here’s a dude who earned his title of “MASTER”, like he had to study at some obscure, mist-shrouded mountaintop bondage monastery to get his sadist black belt. I’m sure this guy, Mira Kurumi, has no trouble at all finding new victims, the chicks were just eating him up with their eyes.

Both victim and aggressor then joined the crowd like nothing happened and had a merry old time dancing the night away. Refreshing lack of rock star BS, it was. The girl was like five feet tall and looked 15, I wanted to ask her if her parents knew where she was but I never got around to it.