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Atami, some 45 minutes from Tokyo on the Tokaido Shinkansen, is a popular onsen destination. It also used to be a destination for that other activity when naked: sex. Atami is where the term “onsen geisha” was coined, and this is where companies went for their shain ryoko annual group tour. When the bubble burst in the 90’s, the Atami sex trade was fucked. Hardcore hentai-historians can find one last relict of past debaucheries in the decaying onsen town: Atami’s strip theater, and this is where Mr. and Mrs. Babaram went over the weekend, strictly for scientific purposes, of course.
Atami’s strip joint used to be in a pricier area near the railway station, now it’s in a run-down shopping street near the port. Among pervy connoisseurs, Atami’s Ginza Strip has gained fame for its lifetime employment policy, and its strippers who worked there uninterrupted since the 1950’s. To our great sadness, we were told that the last of them just retired at the age of 80, “still looking sexy,” as we heard.
Instead of a nude octogenarian, the show consisted of Kurumi, an athletic Tokyoite who travels to Atami for a few days of the week. Kurumi is a sexy skinhead, and somewhat famous in the Tokyo shibari scene. In Atami, she wears a wig.
The theater is tiny. It has only one row of chairs, which usually go unused, because the audience plops down Japanese-style on a straw mat right in front of the stage.
The setting is similar to strip theaters elsewhere in Japan: No booze, no pole, no lap dancing, or champagne rooms. The lady (and there is only one in the Atami theater) slowly takes her clothes off, and in the end she presents her most private parts to the audience for inspection. Hunkering down on the mat, we were at perfect eye height, and maybe three feet from her legs. In between sets, there are chat sessions, along with the opportunity to take Polaroids at 1,000 yen a pop.
There is mild audience participation: I was invited to help Kurumi out of her kimono, but I let Ms. Babaram do the honors, to the delight of four geeky junior engineers who had traveled to Atami from Nagoya. The kinkiest part involved a vibrator, and the audience was invited to verify that the batteries were properly charged before the vibrator was introduced. Again, it was Ms. Babaram who confirmed the proper vibes, the engineers were too shy.
The show consisted of an office lady act, a kimono act, and a happi act. Happi as in the short Japanese gown. All props were completely shed at the act’s end, except for the happi. When the happi act came around, the nerds from Nagoya had departed, so Ms. Babaram and the bear were alone with Kurumi. Probably in the name of efficiency, she came on stage dressed in an open happi only, with nothing underneath, and she opened her pussy for close inspection.
At this point, it should be plenty clear that a visit to the establishment is only for those truly interested in the traditions of Japanese folk dances. Entrance was 8,000 for two, for similar money you will get way more show and girls at Asakusa Rockza, and maybe a Chinese handjob if you drive a hard bargain. If you want to get in touch with Japan’s long lost glory, this is it.
Atami’s strip joint used to be in a pricier area near the railway station, now it’s in a run-down shopping street near the port. Among pervy connoisseurs, Atami’s Ginza Strip has gained fame for its lifetime employment policy, and its strippers who worked there uninterrupted since the 1950’s. To our great sadness, we were told that the last of them just retired at the age of 80, “still looking sexy,” as we heard.
Instead of a nude octogenarian, the show consisted of Kurumi, an athletic Tokyoite who travels to Atami for a few days of the week. Kurumi is a sexy skinhead, and somewhat famous in the Tokyo shibari scene. In Atami, she wears a wig.
The theater is tiny. It has only one row of chairs, which usually go unused, because the audience plops down Japanese-style on a straw mat right in front of the stage.
The setting is similar to strip theaters elsewhere in Japan: No booze, no pole, no lap dancing, or champagne rooms. The lady (and there is only one in the Atami theater) slowly takes her clothes off, and in the end she presents her most private parts to the audience for inspection. Hunkering down on the mat, we were at perfect eye height, and maybe three feet from her legs. In between sets, there are chat sessions, along with the opportunity to take Polaroids at 1,000 yen a pop.
There is mild audience participation: I was invited to help Kurumi out of her kimono, but I let Ms. Babaram do the honors, to the delight of four geeky junior engineers who had traveled to Atami from Nagoya. The kinkiest part involved a vibrator, and the audience was invited to verify that the batteries were properly charged before the vibrator was introduced. Again, it was Ms. Babaram who confirmed the proper vibes, the engineers were too shy.
The show consisted of an office lady act, a kimono act, and a happi act. Happi as in the short Japanese gown. All props were completely shed at the act’s end, except for the happi. When the happi act came around, the nerds from Nagoya had departed, so Ms. Babaram and the bear were alone with Kurumi. Probably in the name of efficiency, she came on stage dressed in an open happi only, with nothing underneath, and she opened her pussy for close inspection.
At this point, it should be plenty clear that a visit to the establishment is only for those truly interested in the traditions of Japanese folk dances. Entrance was 8,000 for two, for similar money you will get way more show and girls at Asakusa Rockza, and maybe a Chinese handjob if you drive a hard bargain. If you want to get in touch with Japan’s long lost glory, this is it.
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