7bc4- Tea ceremony. Tea house. Japanese gardens.

The metamorphosis of the geisha.
Act III of an erotic tale taking place in medieval Japan.

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She entails me along the narrow corridors up to a tiny niwa arranged with water basins, bamboo roji and flowers in the center of which, throne a tsukubai , a stone coarsely carved in the shape of a basin in which, gently runs, a clear water coming from a complex assembly of bamboo drains. Using a lengthy and delicate bamboo hichaku, she picks some water from the basin and proceeds to the ablution of my hands and of my mouth. She thus does the same with her mouth and her hands. Then we move close by, inside the long corridor.

She stops and sat in front of one of the translucent partitions. She moves the fragile fusuma in a slow motion gesture. She removes her wooden shoes and gently deposed the sensu on the tatami, after having deployed it in a quick and skillful gesture. She places her two hands on the tatami and throws a circular glance into the room. Then she moves the sensu forwards and invites me to follow her through the narrow opening.

The room is small, it is a chamise, a tea house recognizable by the presence of an engraved metal kama. It is embedded in a terra cotta furo used as a blazing inferno. The unit is hidden under the level of the floor and slightly withdrawn from the room, of which it constitutes the only accessory. There are no other furniture, only a flower pot and a scroll, suspended above it, that decorates the tokonoma, at one corner of the room.

She moves towards the kakemono in small jerky steps avoiding skillfully to touch the edges of the tatami. She places the sensu in front of her, looks at the kakemono and the ikebana lengthily, then she bows down respectfully.

Two young maikos who were discreetly quiet in one of the corners of the chashitsu, move closer in graceful and jerky steps. One of her, settles opposite the kama around which are laid out, the various objects necessary to perform the tea ceremony. My companion geisha joins me, she comes and sit down opposite to me, while leaving between us, only the edge of the tatami. The other maiko comes and sits down at my sides, a little withdrawn. I very well recognized, the young and pretty atashi which accompanied my frolics in the narrow basin of the onnayu. She approaches gently, and with delicate gestures, she releases me from my kimono. The sokyoku, this strange music played from a koto, crosses the fragile walls of shôji-gami. I feel a certain discomfort, due to my nudity, the small fragile dolls are devotedly agitated in front of me and I perceive a slight irony on the face of the young bishoujo.

My companion geisha is impassive, her eyes slightly lowered, she did not move. The young maiko approaches and starts to undress her, she unrolls the elegant obi that girdles her size and that do not finish spreading along.

The other maiko-san is already busy to the seicha. She handles with grace, all these delicate objects, according to the chadou, a ritual of a strange subtlety.

She initially purified, using the fukusa, the fine spoon carved in bamboo, the chashaku, as well as the natsume, the box with delicate drawings, that contains the tea. Then, she inspects the fukusa with attention, and she deposits it on the tatami after having carefully fold it. Her gestures are slow and thoughtful, impressed by a great serenity.

Then she pours some hot water in the chawan, using for that, a hishaku with a lengthy bamboo handle. She then takes a strange brush with fine thin straps of bamboo, a chasen, that she rinses in the kensui; she then throws the contents of the bowl in a kensui, designed to receive the water residues. Then she finally wipes the chawan with a chakin, in slow handling gestures.

My spirit is shaky, discomfort in front of my own nudity, blurred gradually. The room is already flagrant with subtle odors of tea. The slow and complicated ritual, proceeding in front of me, exacerbates my sexual instincts. I have an inside desire to plunge towards my kan-geiko, impassive in front of me, from whom I perceive, here and there, fragments of flesh of an exquisite whiteness. I just do nothing. I am welded to the tatami by an invisible force. Only my mind travels, like that of a depraved man, sparing of subtlety.

The young maiko-san , then, raises the natsume and the chashaku and using the delicate spoon, she deposits the tea in the chawan. She pours some hot water and using the hishaku, she handles the invaluable mixture in a slow and continuous rotary movement, until it forms a malleable paste.

The first kimono with the flowery patterns opens on a second kimono. The white flesh of my sumptuous meigi slowly reveals, from the shoulder to the rib cage. The first kimono is spread out now, inert over the tatami. The young maiko takes off a second kimono, then reveals a third one with more discrete drawings. She continues this too slow process, and laboriously let the kimono slip down around the motionless trunk of my kan-geiko, she then, uncovers her shoulders. My breath suddenly stops. The tiny bosoms are revealed completely, then the solar plexus, the deep funnel of the umbilical, the smooth and convex wall of her hara and all this round and white flesh which is spreading out, now, down to the narrow and long tear of the vagina, a smooth and shining flesh parsimoniously depilated, rape-proof small cavern that lengthens up to, behind the dark crack formed by her thighs, timidly tightened one onto the other. She did not move. Her eyes are attached to the edge of the tatami, fragile border between this appetizing and defenseless prey and my voracious sexual instincts.

The young maiko now attacks the strange hairstyle of my kan- geiko. She removes the long needles driven in the wig, the strange wood pallets with sinuous contours, the flowered bunches that hang down under the line of her shoulders, the majestic wig of a shiny black. The elegant yukata of the young maiko, opened under the intensity of her active maneuvers, or more simply, by the effect of a subtle desire to share these moments of lewdness with us; I perceive fragments of her infantile shapes according to the movements of her body; then the long and black mane of my kan-geiko comes spreading out over her white flesh, over that of the pretty maiko, in multiple startled filaments. The pretty maiko, dropped her flowered yukata, revealing entirely her body of still young girl, she comes and shynessly slip into my back, where she encrusted with passion.

Marco Polo or the imaginary journey (Contes et légendes asiatiques, translated, august 2000) © 1998 Jean-Pierre Lapointe
(Hommage to Hiroshige, Hokusai, Utamaro, to the geishas and Japon)

ACT IV