Mr. Hashimoto

Every day, Mr. Hashimoto comes back from his office at the exact same time. It doesn’t matter if he had a meeting with a high-ranking government official or if there was a fire at the plant, he’s at home at 8:00 o’clock sharp. His mansion staff knows this and works accordingly. They also know their boss values workflow above any other quality. So, they do their best to make things work smoothly and simply.

The chef prepares dinner according to a menu thoroughly designed weeks in advance. The same goes for the selection of classical music the boss listens to to relax and balance his mood after a long day of hard work.

But what got my attention the most, after working a couple of months disguised as an assistant butler, was what happens in a particular room, set up with all the necessary ropes and tools. Every day, a Kinbakushi (that is, a bondage master) prepares a Shibari scene with three or four models. The preparations have to be complete by exactly 9:00 p.m. Then, Mr. Hashimoto steps into the room and spends fifteen minutes —not a second longer— contemplating the scene.

As a westerner, I had always considered 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 form, just like music and painting. And it can be as exquisite as a symphony or as intriguing as a painting. 

In the Japanese tradition, Shibari has a profound meaning that goes far beyond the act of tying someone up. I encourage anyone who reads this to take the time to go to an exhibition and see for themselves just how powerful and beautiful a bondage scene can be.

This is my Shibari story.