Into the night, past the Tokyo sex shops and office-block S&M dungeons, through porn cinema back entrances and love hotel carpark exits, and we're drinking in cubbyhole bars beneath the street before sinking deeper into fetish clubs we shouldn't know about and don't understand, then it's whiplash girl-child in the dark, suspended shibari, torn latex and amputees, cruising swapping parties, and swingers' hangouts like happening bars and couples' kissa, where we're supposed to be flirting with the same desperate crowd, looking to trade off their partners in exchange for us, but I can't focus anymore, smile anyway and try another door.