The incident at the Japanese bathhouse. Was it only yesterday? If I live to be one hundred the memory of it will be burned into my brain as vivid as it is at this moment.
First of all, the bathhouse. I had been more than a little relieved when, after making a few discrete inquiries, I had discovered that many of the more lurid stories I had read were, at the very least, exaggerations, at most, downright fabrications, written for the sole purpose of titillating the sensibilities of proper Victorian gentlemen such as myself. By law, I discovered, in modern times the genders now must bath in separate rooms within all public bath facilities. That decency law had been enacted over twenty years prior to our arrival in Japan. Either the baths must be totally separate or, just as in our hotel, a partition wall separated each bathing facility into two parts. Women on one side and men on the other.
Let me explain just so there is no occasion for misunderstanding. In my brother-in-law's absence, my niece's welfare is solely my responsibility. And I take this responsibility very seriously. As accustomed as she might be to living in this country, we are, after all, in a foreign country, and her life and that of her father have been threatened more than once since our departure from the first Universal Peace Conference in Rome. If separate bathing facilities meant that I could not have visual contact with my niece during that time, still separate facilities better suited my Victorian sensibilities.
On the other hand, I have lately come to realize that the very thought of viewing my eighteen-year-old niece's body,
sans vêtements
, oh yes, that interests me just a bit
too
much.
It was shortly after dawn ‘Alex' and I were already on the road. Travelling north, we were making our way on horseback out of the city and along a steep, winding mountain road. It was a warm, early summer morning. The sun shown brightly in a cloudless sky. Travelling under an alias as I had since unceremoniously departing Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland, I rode alongside my lovely young niece. Each of us rode on the back of a tall, sturdy roan. I was dressed for a jaunt in the country and she was dressed in a riding habit. As usual ‘Alex' did not ride side-saddle. As usual I found my niece's nonconformity delightful.
We rode for several miles, and the bulk of our journey was uneventful. As we rode, we enjoyed a companionable silence. You may or may not be aware but I often have little regard for the fairer sex. As a rule I find them to be silly, fickle creatures. However my niece is one female who's company I thoroughly enjoy, perhaps because she does not feel the need to fill the silences with mindless prattle. On occasion Alexandrée would point out various points of interest and explain interesting bits of Japanese history with the skill of a seasoned tour guide before lapsing once again into silence. Indeed, Alex knew the country well. For the past seven years her widowed father held the position of French Ambassador to the island nation.
As we neared our destination Alexandrée began to explain to me about the nature of establishment we would be visiting.
Onsen
, she informed me, is the Japanese word for a natural hot spring. The facility she and I would be enjoying was operating in connection to an ancient and exclusive teahouse. This teahouse catered to a very exclusive clientele. The
onsen
was located high up in the mountains and was a private spa facility. This particular bathhouse, she pointed out in a most matter-of-fact manner, was not
technically
a public facility but catered only to invited guests, generally wealthy gentlemen and their mistresses. Thus it was not subject to the segregation laws regarding most public bathhouses.
The more I learned, the worse her revelations became. The spa itself had been formed by the naturally heated mineral water which bubbled up through the mountain's volcanic rock. This water fed several large, deep pools formed naturally into the bedrock. The hot springs themselves were located in a secluded area in the gardens behind the teahouse. I was taken aback. Not only were there to be no separate facilities for men and women, but the baths themselves were actually located out-of-doors. Needless to say, I was less than thrilled with this revelation, but what could I do? By this time I was committed. Tempted as I was, what kind of a coward would I have shown myself to be to turn back at this point?
To say that I was uncomfortable would be an enormous understatement.
The teahouse itself was a quaint little building with red beams and a red tile roof nestled amongst the towering evergreen trees like a setting for a fairytale. At the gate, we alit and two young oriental men came forward to care for our horses. We left our shoes at the front door.
Inside my niece introduced me to an extremely ancient looking Japanese woman not much over three feet tall whom went by the affectionate nickname of
‘Mama-san'
. Though it was not stated as fact, it occurred to me that the old woman must be the proprietor at the establishment, or perhaps the proprietor's wife or widow. After a lovely tea ceremony where we sat and calmly gazed out over a pristine garden while being serenaded by a young woman playing a stringed instrument called a
hamisen
, I was shown to a small changing room where I was to exchange my street clothes for a short robe of thin cotton material which tied around my waist and some unusual footwear fashioned of woven straw and held in place by a strap which ran between the first and second toes.
A petite young female attendant, whom I hypothesized to be the Mama-san's granddaughter, pointed me to a panel at the rear of the changing room which slid open to reveal another, equally private, equally lovely garden.
Alexandrée met me in the garden and led the way through a wonderland of lush greenery to a type of oriental gazebo. There another young Japanese woman gestured, showing me where I was expected to leave my robe and slippers in one of a series of baskets which lined the inside wall.
My niece and I stood face to face beneath the sheltering roof of the gazebo. After a few uncomfortable moments of indecision, I had slowly began untying the sash which held my robe, feeling both awkward and self-conscious about undressing in front of not only my niece, but the female bath attendants as well as all of the other people in attendance, most of whom appeared to be Japanese businessmen. These men were for the most part accompanied by their mistresses or by ladies which, by their facial paint and bejewelled hairstyles, I took to be geisha. Each of the ladies had their black hair piled atop their heads, and the younger geisha had their faces painted white with bright red lips. To my great relief, none of the Japanese bathers so much as glanced in our direction. Just another naked European. Somewhat more uncommon this far north of the city, but no great novelty in Japan these days.
If the others seemed uninterested, I noted that Alexandrée's eyes did not leave me as I slowly opened my robe. Starting at my face, her gaze drifted slowly down as the robe fell away from my body. Her sapphire eyes missed nothing. She gauged the breadth of my shoulders, took in my lean but muscular chest and moved gradually down over my taut, washboard stomach and abdomen. Finally her gaze fell upon my loins and the nest of coarse black hair there which accentuated my own prominent genitalia. I noted, too, that my niece's gaze lingered in that area for much, much longer than was, in fact, required for a casual, inquisitive glance. As always, the foreskin hooded the broad head of my flaccid penis, making the head of it appear somewhat wider than the base as it hung heavily between my long legs partially obscuring the view of my nearly hairless scrotum housing two low-hanging testicles. This was the first time in my adult life that I had been naked in front of a female. And yet there I stood, trying my best not to be self-conscious, fully naked in front of any number of women, one of which just happened to be my very own niece.
By concentrating on ‘Alex' I succeeded in blocking out all of the others from my thoughts. At this point, as far as I was concerned, there were only the two of us there in that secluded garden. Could it have been a mere coincidence that as Alexandrée's eyes beheld my naked genitals for the first time she chose that particular moment to lick her full, red lips? In spite of myself, I was utterly mesmerized by the spectacle as the tip of her pink tongue slowly traced the outline of first her lower lip, then the upper. I am aware that I have been perhaps a bit more generously endowed than the average Englishman, though until that moment I seldom had reason to give it much thought. Whether my niece was aware of the relative size of my genitalia or not I could not say. However, from the rapt expression on ‘Alex's' face, it certainly appeared that she appreciated what she was looking at. I struggled against the urge to use my hands to cover my embarrassment, determined instead to stand proudly naked before my niece's inquisitive gaze.
To my horror, my testicles began to ride up just a little higher as the heat of her gaze caused the blood to rush to my ever expanding penis. To my further discomfort, the purple tip of its mushroom head began to protrude from the foreskin as my penis swelled, slowly rising up before her very eyes. With the colour, no doubt, rising in my cheeks, I was finally forced to place my hands strategically before my groin, lest the totally extent of my physical endowment become very public knowledge.
With my genitalia covered, Alexandrée's gaze moved back up into my face. Then my niece smiled up at me in a manner which could only be described as flirtatious. Stepping forward, she looked straight up into my eyes, and handed me a small towel. Hardly what I would consider a towel at all, it seemed little more than a cloth one might use for washing. Along with this she offered a small wooden bucket. I glanced inside. The vessel contained bar soap, a comb and a stiff brush. For a moment I gazed uncertainly at the tiny scrap of cloth I held in my hand. Seeing my puzzlement, Alexandrée took my hand and positioned it so that the small scrap of cloth was draped strategically before my pubic area. I could feel the heat as more blood rushed to my face and I realized I was blushing again. At least now I recognized the cloths purpose.
Holding both the towel and the wooden bucket in front of my prominent loins it was now my turn to observe as my niece untied her robe and allowed it to fall, with exaggerated slowness, to puddle around her slender ankles. I watched in fascination as she bent over and picked the robe and the slippers and dropped them one at a time into the basket provided. Once done, she made no move to cover herself, but turned to face me, now totally unclothed.
