Monday, July 21, 2008

Love Hotel Madness: Kink and Games in the Land of Dreams

Our Guest Blogger today is Donna George Storey, author of Amorous Woman. There's a great competition in the post, so read on to win a copy of her sexy Japanese based book.

Once a land of inscrutable mystery, Japan is no longer especially exotic to Westerners. Who hasn’t sampled sushi and saké? Or fallen under the spell of manga, Nintendo, or at least one of those cool Miyazaki animé films?

But there is one Japanese cultural treasure the West has yet to import--an institution that still retains an aura of glittering allure and forbidden pleasure. I’m talking, of course, about the love hotel. Last time I looked, there were plenty of sushi bars and Sony TV’s in my neighborhood, but not a single one of these establishments, where a couple can rent a fancifully-decorated room for a few hours for unbridled sensual indulgence. Which is too bad, because I firmly believe the world would be a happier—and lustier--place with more of these grown-up playgrounds available to us all.

In a country where housing is expensive, the walls paper thin, and many adult children live with their parents until they marry, it’s hard to find a time and a place for no-holds-barred, thrash-and-scream sex. Enter the love hotel, which truly fills an aching need in Japanese culture. Researchers estimate that one half of all sexual encounters in Japan take place in a love hotel. I usually take questionnaire surveys about sex with a grain of salt, but there’s no doubt the business is flourishing.

Now, there’s nothing especially Japanese about couples sneaking off somewhere to do it—fields, forests, the storage room at the office, even plain old hotels or no-tell motels the world over. A similar kind of rent-by-the-hour hotel can be found in other East Asian countries. Japanese love hotels are a class apart, however, not surprising in a country that has perfected the art of packaging with style.

Curious? But your schedule won’t allow a quick trip to Japan for an amorous encounter in a room decorated with large Hello Kitty dolls in S&M gear? Then come join me for the next best thing: Love Hotel Madness, a game where everyone’s a winner!

First, of course, you have to pick your game pieces. Will you be the married couple, desperate to get away from grandma and the kids on a Sunday afternoon? Two college students who lodge in dorms where your mates see and hear everything? Or maybe an ambitious career woman who satisfies her carnal itch with an after-hours fling with the new boy-toy underling? Remember, though, couples only—singletons and threesomes can’t play!

Next you need to find your love hotel. The best hunting ground is near the train tracks, along the highway, or in the entertainment districts of cities. In Tokyo, Shibuya’s “Love Hotel Hill” has perhaps the most concentrated selection of love hotels in the country. Will it be “Hotel Rich Inn”? Or “Hotel Monaco”? How about “New Seeds”? (Don’t forget the birth control!) Or “Blue Roses”? Pick a card and proceed.

Once you choose, step through the frosted glass door or the discreet hanging curtain and you’ll find yourself in the lobby. There is no check-in clerk, merely a wall of computer screens, each advertising a particular room, with price and amenities. The lit-up screens indicate unoccupied rooms, and you can shop for the theme of your choice. For the purposes of Love Hotel Madness, roll the dice and find the room with that number. Tap the button on the screen for “rest” (one to three hours) or “stay” (the all-night option) and follow the blinking lights to the door of your room ,which has been unlocked automatically.

Although we’ve all heard about the laugh-out-loud humorous theme rooms, more common these days is a well-appointed love den that resembles a baroque Western hotel, although creative touches may be included like a cave bath or a black-light ocean mural. One reason for the decline of all-out kitsch is that women now have more say in the particulars of rendezvous locales. In fact, the word “love hotel” is seldom used by the Japanese anymore. They prefer softer, euphemistic names like couples’ hotel, fashion hotel or boutique hotel. Another blow to humor and fun was the 1985 change to the Law Regulating Businesses Affecting Public Morals. That sorry moment in legislative history banished mirrors on the ceilings and rotating beds and restricted exuberant architectural expression. Thus the Cinderella castles and Moorish palaces I remember so well from my first stay in Japan became unremarkable, anonymous facades, and many owners reregistered their establishments as “business hotels” to avoid fines.

:However, bright spots do remain in the love hotel landscape. If you’re lucky enough to have rolled for the Hotel Adonis in Osaka, you might find yourself in the Hello Kitty S& M room, the bed equipped with manacles and a cute Hello Kitty quilt. Osaka’s Hotel Loire is a classic—here you can rent a train car to act out subway sex fantasies, the Olympic room with Ionic columns and faux marble floors, or the Pirate room, with a bed right on deck and a view of an approaching ship flying the skull-and-crossbones.

When you’re done admiring your love nest, you might like to slip into the hot tub overlooking the city to relax the muscles for the gymnastics ahead. Lovers interested in fueling up can order a room service meal of curry or Italian spaghetti. Other appetites might be better served by a vibrator—just 5000 yen--or schoolgirl’s uniform.

One final preparation: a bit of fiddling with the fancy console on the headboard of your bed. Here you can adjust the room temperature or set the mood with music, the soothing sound of waves or a train conductor’s announcements, perfect for sex-in-the-train fantasies.

But enough scene-setting, it’s time to move on to the climax of Love Hotel Madness. You are about to embark on the ultimate Japanese experience—a quick trip to the yume no kuni, the Land of Dreams. In a country where context rules everything, from the pronoun you use to describe yourself to the angle of your bow, the love hotel is the one place where sensual indulgence is allowed and, if you’re in a dungeon room, strictly required by your Master’s orders.

I don’t have to elaborate here. After all, Love Hotel Madness is all about privacy and discretion. Besides I know Lusties and their fans have very steamy imaginations, but if you’d like some fresh ideas, you might check out the love hotel scenes in chapter eight of my novel, Amorous Woman. So close your eyes and pick your favorite section—ah, yes, I like that one, too—and let me know when everyone’s happy and you’re all wiped up and ready to go.

Ahem, excuse me, sorry to intrude, but if you don’t want to pay a surcharge, it’s best to check-out now. Paying for your pleasure might involve tucking your cash in a container that goes speeding to the clerk through a pneumatic tube. Other hotels ask you pay with a credit card via computer. Some will actually lock you in until payment is received! A few hotels still use the old-fashioned method in which you shove your cash through a curtain to a human being, usually an old lady in kimono who was obviously chosen for the job because she’s too blind to identify you to nosy private detectives.

In any case you will eventually find yourself back in the real world, blinking at the grim, fully-clothed people bustling about on the street around you. Yes, perhaps it was all just a dream. But what’s this in your hand? A coupon informing you that if you “rest” four times at Hotel New Seeds, your fifth romp between the sheets is free. Plus you’ve already earned one stamp. See, I told you, in Love Hotel Madness, everyone’s a winner.

But the games continue! The master of erotic joy and fun, Jeremy Edwards, has cooked up an amusing way for you to win your own trip to Japan for a few hours, in other words a copy of my novel Amorous Woman. Love hotels, hot springs, rope tricks, orgies—the book seethes with more sex than Hotel Loire on a Sunday. Here’s Jeremy with the rules for this contest.

Amorous Libs

It could have happened to anyone. I ordered my copy of Amorous Woman in the same shipment as a Mad Libs book; and, understandably, I got the two items mixed up in my haste to plunge into a juicy erotic novel.

The result—as you will have predicted if you have a scientific turn of mind—is a madliberated version of Donna’s masterpiece. Here’s a passage chosen at random (through hours of discussion between me and Donna as to what would make the best random passage from the love hotel chapter):

"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd sigh as I [VERB (PAST TENSE)] him. Thoroughly converted to the path of [NOUN]-[GERUND] [NOUN], he'd [VERB] and [VERB] me with his [BODY PART] under my [ADJECTIVE] [NOUN], until his [BODY PART] was as [ADJECTIVE] as a [COMESTIBLE (ADJECTIVE + NOUN)].

In our version of the game, we ask you to fill in the blanks with the most absurd and hilarious (but grammatically appropriate) words you can think of. Do not try to reconstruct Donna’s missing words, or supply other literarily plausible items. It’s silliness we want—Donna will unveil the authentic, erotic version at the end. And one lucky player will win a copy of Amorous Woman (or was it a Mad Libs book?).

Please upload your entries in the comments (which can also, of course, be used for more conventional comments). Here’s a deliberately dull example, just to illustrate the mechanics:

Jeremy Edwards said...

"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd sigh as I avoided him. Thoroughly converted to the path of mind-broadening travel, he'd see and hear me with his foot under my blue blanket, until his shoulder was as deep as a hot brandy.


Donna George Storey has taught English in Japan and Japanese in the US. Her first novel, Amorous Woman, is a semi-autobiographical tale of an American woman’s love affair with Japan. You can buy it at Amazon in the US and the UK). or her very amorous Web site


Megan Kerr said...

I know I can't win, but I'll have a go anyway...

"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd sigh as I painted him. Thoroughly converted to the path of stick-beating women, he'd cringe and flap me with his Fedora under my bountiful bosom, until his eyes as stunned as frozen grapes.

Whew, that was HARD! Even following the Zen path of randomosity and not fussing about what the sense might come out as, that was tricky... Oh, and I know a Fedora is not, strictly speaking, a body part, but for Jeremy I think it counts.

I also know a similar slightly easier version for the automatic generation of smutty innuendo. For a guy, you need a noun - any noun.
Then insert it in this sentence:
"I'll show you MY [noun]!"
eg. "I'll show you MY Fedora!"

For a girl, any verb will do, and shove it in here:
"You can [verb] me any time, big boy!"
eg. "You can sample me any time, big boy!"

Janine Ashbless said...

Whooh! *fans self*
I wanna go in the undersea black-light room! And the pirate room! and the ...

What a wonderful concept the love hotel is - except that if they existed in Britain you would never be sure your bed/room/toy was actually clean, unlike in Japan.

I can't win, and I already own a copy of Amorous Woman, but here's my entry (and thank-you for demonstrating what a gerund is because I didn't know. British education is a bit deficient too):

"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd sigh as I passed him. Thoroughly converted to the path of butt-naked gardening, he'd turn and root me with his long-handled fork under my automated sprinkler, until his shaft was as purple as a prize-winning beetroot.

Jeremy Edwards said...

Thanks for selflessly [VERB ENDING IN -ING] the Mad Libs off to such an inspired and entertaining start, O & J!

If anyone has trouble with the link to the Mad Libs site above, just [VERB] here.

Ashley Lister said...

Donna! Brilliant as always.

"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd sigh as I edited him. Thoroughly converted to the path of proofreading copy, he'd rewrite and correct me with his fingernail under my purple prose, until his finger was as red as a cochineal sandwich.

Ashley Lister

Donna said...

Wow, it's nice to wake up laughing! These are GREAT. And I'll always make an exception for a fedora.

Megan Kerr said...

On behalf of the Correcting Uninteresting Nominative Terms Society (better known by our acronym), I'd like to point out that it isn't in fact a gerund. It's a present participle. To be precise, a qualifying present participle.

Fucking is fun. (verb "to fuck" is made into a noun with -ing, becomes gerund)

I am so fucking anal. (verb "to fuck" is made into an adjective with -ing, becomes present participle)

Knowing this much grammar is fucked. (to demonstrate the past participle)

And as a verb - Oh, Jeremy, you can...
No, wait. That doesn't work.

Jeremy Edwards said...

Hmm ... I thought the idea was that when the present participle rolls up its sleeves for certain tasks (e.g, when it hooks up with a noun so that they can jointly modify another noun in a hot threesome), said participle then hangs out its shingle as a practicing gerund. For example, the Chicago Manual of Style analyzes the term "decision-making" in the phrase decision-making body as a "noun + gerund" compound.

On the other hand, since I'd usually rather fuck than make decisions, I'm not sure I want to align myself with CMOS in this instance.

Megan Kerr said...

Are you sure you want to be part of the the Correcting Uninteresting Nominative Terms Society, though? On behalf of whom, I'd like to say: if decision-making is a noun, then it is a noun+gerund combo, if it's an adjective - say, "the decision-making style of ideas-showers is going forward with a cradle to grave approach" then it becomes both a participle and the kind of sentence you should be shot for.

Right, this sort of behaviour is really not on in public, so Jeremy and I are now disappearing into the grammatical-abuse room in the Love Hotel for the next 3 hours so we can sort out our nominative differences in private.
You fancy being in apposition with me, big boy? You can conjugate my verb, any time... Anyone for hot conjunction? I'll get imperative if you fancy a sub-clause...

Now I'll just nip upstairs and shoot myself.

Jeremy Edwards said...

To clarify what I think I've said in a slightly muddled way:

I'm not disagreeing that the "fucking" in fucking is fun is a gerund. (Nor, obviously, am I disagreeing that it's fun.) As you say, the present participle is functioning as a noun, which is clearly different from its plain old participial duty in a clause like I am currently fucking [NAME OF VERY GOOD FRIEND]. So all I'm really getting from my very good friend the Chicago Manual is the corollary that "coworker-fucking habits" comes down (or should I say "goes down") on the gerund rather than participial side.

LVLM(Leah) said...

I hope I did this right. I totally suck at grammar.

“Yes, Miss Evans,” he’d sigh as I sprayed him. Thoroughly converted to the path of binge-drinking people, he’d lash and fan me with his finger under my bodacious lampshade, until his head was as lusty as a doughy bagel.

By the way, I loved this post. I spent many a night/hour in love hotels ranging from the cheap and gaudy to the very elegant traditional Japanese style and I love the whole concept of it.

It was rather surreal at times to go in on the weekend and sit with a bunch of other couples in the lobby waiting for a room. Everyone trying to mind their own business but all knowing what we were there for.

And, I loved how the rooms were all set up with the accoutrements necessary for loving (condoms), and cleaning up afterwards (soap, conditioner, combs, hairdryers, etc. So no prep needed; just walk in and do your thing.

Some friends stayed in one because it was cheaper than a hotel many times.

Your book sounds totally interesting. I'll have to pick it up, having a deep love affair with Japan myself. :)

Megan Kerr said...

Oh, Jeremy... you wanna see my dipthong?

Megan Kerr said...

gags Jeremy with dipthong and introduces him to several direct objects

Jeremy Edwards said...

Oh, Jeremy... you wanna see my dipthong?

[Wipes perspiration from brow, trembles with heady mixture of excitement and nervousness.]

Ulp. The Chicago Manual didn't cover this.

By the way, Mad Libbers, please don't let my gerunds (or whatever they actually are) frighten you off.

Donna said...

Oh, my Olivia, the grammatical-abuse room is the best--you'll be surprised at all the kinky things you'll find there. Fortunately the reference books are all washable. Mmmm.

And Madame Butterfly--thank YOU for sharing your stories. I think the ideal is that you don't run into other people, but it's happened to me. I was jealous because the other couple was obviously so much more into each other...but that's another story. I loved your mention of the penis matsuri on your blog. I once made a pilgrimage to a sex temple in Shikoku. It was great, but in their museum, they had to cover over the genitals with cotton balls. Fortunately, the six-foot stone phallus statue escaped. That would be a LOT of cotton!

Gina Marie said...

Thanks Donna and Jeremy (she sighs, nestled in a sea of silk in the Mermaid Room) what a great way to kick off a Monday :)

"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd sigh as I sparkled him. Thoroughly converted to the path of hair-parting games, he'd pillage and wrestle me with his left nipple under my fluffy merengue, until his cleft chin was as beserk as a fiery comet.

Erastes said...

What a great idea and it's a world away from the grubby and unsavory world of shagging in hotels here where you are made to feel guilty even in this day and age!!

Neve Black said...

I'm tuning in a little late to this, thanks JE for the heads up. Nice effort Donna and JE. Very well done.

One more note: Thank God I have an editor to review all my past, present and future verb fucking. Oops, I mean conjugtion. ;-)

Here it goes:
"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd sigh as I choked him,. Thoroughly converted to the path of vanilla-flavored sex,, he'd spank and tickle me with his toes under my cherry umbrella,until his cock was as rigid as ripe bamboo.


EllaRegina said...

I'm always late to parties. And I have a copy of AW so this is just for fun:

"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd sigh as I hand-blocked him. Thoroughly converted to the path of hat-fondling study, he'd press and iron me with his tonsil under my curly steamer, until his elbow was as limber as a thinly-sliced bologna sandwich.

Kristina Lloyd said...

"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd sigh as I gerunded him. Thoroughly converted to the path of logic-fucking grammar, he'd comma and comma me with his chomsky under my split infinitive, until his colon was as semi as a dangling modifier.*

*I will comest anything.

Anonymous said...

"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd admit as I passed him. Thoroughly converted to the path of Hotwheel Racing, he'd squeal and tailgate me, with his fingers under my Grand Prix Boot, until his Hotwheel Car was as blistering as a lit Trader Vics Matchbox.

Jeremy Edwards said...

I love all your Mad Libs so much that I feel like I really must be in a love hotel.

By the way, is there a Love Boat themed love hotel?

Donna said...

Thanks, everyone, these are GREAT! There should be a Love Boat Love Hotel, Jeremy. Should we look around for an investor? This could be a growth industry in the States....

Anonymous said...

I (and actually my partner, which is largely responsible for my own enthusiasm here) would be all about the pirate-themed room! (And I already have the!) Love hotels really do sound like a magnificent idea; thanks for sharing all this info about them, Donna!

The Mad Libs made me laugh out loud. :) Like Olivia, I did this fully randomly and tried to just provide the first grammatically appropriate word that came to mind, hardly even looking at the context. You'd never know, I'm sure. ;)

"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd sigh as I dusted him. Thoroughly converted to the path of bicycle-promoting umbrellas, he'd battle and jump me with his elbow under my fringed cape until his cheek was as glittery as a strawberry-shaped clown hat.

And of course I know I’m late. And I'd been looking forward to this! But it's been a somewhat occupying last several hours...I appreciate all the frivolity and community here -- thanks Donna and Jeremy!


Jeremy Edwards said...

Hi, Emerald! Not to worry—no one is late. We'll have more info later about when the madness and libness contest will close. Meanwhile, the gate is definitely still open for everyone's madding and libbing!

Unknown said...

I spent all day writing my book and I fear my head will explode if I try and write another sentence...
oh god, I just wrote one didn't I?
LOVED the post though!!

Madeline Moore said...

I can't do it. BUT - I want to comment on this fabulous post. I want to go to Japan (again, I was a kid last time) and do a very different sort of tour! Thanks Donna, fascinating. and I hear great things about your work, plus the title is fab.

Jeremy Edwards said...

The Mad Libs contest will be open through Friday, so keep your hilarious rewrites [VERB, OR POSSIBLY GERUND, ENDING IN -ING]! The winner of Amorous Woman will be chosen at random—which I think is fitting, given that randomness, as Emerald has noted, is one of the ways to approach this game. Our fabulous (as in wonderful, not as in folkloric) Lust Bites hosts will reveal the results on Sunday. And stay tuned for the real passage—the deliciously erotic one written by Donna for the book—which she'll post once the gates are closed.

Maryanne Stahl said...

I have the book, but I want to play anyway!

"Yes, Miss Evans," he'd sigh as I basted him. Thoroughly converted to the path of egg-beating goddesses, he'd somersault and poke me with his spatula under my knee until his belly button was as fiery as a dynamite-filled croissant.

Jeremy Edwards said...

Wow! Flapping fedoras, prize-winning beetroots, cochineal sandwiches, bodacious lampshades, fluffy merengues, cherry umbrellas, curly steamers, chomskys and hot wheels, strawberry-shaped clown hats, fiery croissants ... You people sure know how to [VERB]!!

Donna said...

Okay, here is the original, which, I now see is in fact sadly lacking in originality! Dynamite-filled croissants, strawberry-shaped clown hats, thinly-sliced bologna sandwiches, doughy bagels, not to mention dangling modifiers…I’m getting hungry. But first, the original passage:

“Yes, Miss Evans,” he’d sigh as I straddled him. Thoroughly converted to the path of teacher-pleasing diligence, he’d lick and strum me with his tongue under my careful direction, until his face was as slick as a glazed doughnut.

Glazed doughnuts? Well, maybe that part will do. I’m off to the doughnut shop, but thanks to all who joined in the fun!

The winner of the copy of Amorous Woman, chosen by a roll of the dice from eligible participants (they were all so brilliant, how could I choose?), will be announced on Sunday!