Mr. Hashimoto

Mr. Hashimoto comes back from his office every day at 8:00 p.m. Regardless of whether he had meeting with a high-ranking government official or if there was a fire at the plant, he will always be home at 8:00 o’clock. All the members of the staff of his mansion know this and work accordingly. They also know that their boss values flow above any other quality. So, they do their best to make things smooth and, apparently, simple.

The chef prepares dinner according to a menu that the bosso has thoroughly designed weeks in advance. And the same goes for the selection of classical music with which the boss will calm his nerves and balance his mood after a long day of hard work.

But what called my attention the most, after working a couple of month disguised as an assistant butler, is that every day, in a special room provided with all the necessary ropes and tools, a Kinbakushi, that is, a bondage master, prepares a Shibari scene with three or four models, that has to be finished exactly at 9:00 p.m., which is when Mr. Hashimoto steps into the room and spends fifteen minutes —not a second more— contemplating the scene.

As a Western, I had always thought of Shibari as a disgusting and degrading “tradition” that should disappear for the sake of women. I must admit that I was wrong. Shibari is an art, just like music and painting. And it can be as exquisite as the greatest symphony or the most intriguing painting.

In the Japanese mind, Shibari has a profound meaning that goes far beyond the act of tying. I encourage anyone who reads this to take the time to go to a Shibari exhibition. That way, you will for yourselves just how powerful and beautiful a bondage scene can be.

This is my Shibari story.