The first thing I saw was his penis, though it was less interesting than his Yakuza-style tattoos. He assured me these were purely aesthetic, like the silicone rings implanted in his hands.
Despite being the scariest-looking customer in the place, this guy was the most friendly. Apart from the bartender, that is, whose sunny disposition was not dimmed by the heavy metal soundtrack, gruesome decor, and screening of some pretty dark pornography. My trip to Guinea Pig, a BDSM fetish bar in Shinjuku, was a treat by a local expat and friend who’d promised to reproduce his best experiences of the city. It was my third night in the capital, and this was certainly the climax of his personal tour.