Throughout rural Japan, hospitals are hurting and clinics are closing. In a mid-sized city in the San’in region of Honshu, which faces the Sea of Japan, one such facility went under due to a one-two knockout punch of fiscal failure and a shortage of workers.
While the heirs of the hospital’s deceased owner held out for a more attractive offer, it seemed a terrible waste to let a perfectly serviceable building go unused. So, if the subculture monthly magazine Jitsuwa Knuckles (March) is to be believed (often a dubious practice), the owners came up with a brilliant means of generating revenues — by leasing it out to a local sex business.
The hollowed-out hospital stuck to a specialized regimen, extending its hospitality to male outpatients seeking reproductive rehabilitation through revival of the long-defunct rural practice of yobai, which is explained in the Japanese-English dictionary as “visiting a woman under the cover of night.”
Needless to say, during such nocturnal visits in olden times, the female’s permission was a prerequisite, and extreme stealth essential.
In the case of this modern-day “whores-pital,” however, customers paid calls upon female “patients” — claimed to be former nurses — reposing on beds in the ward.
As related by one such customer, identified only as “Mr. A,” arrivals were welcomed by a man in a white smock. Payment of 14,000 yen to the “sensei” entitled them to make the rounds of the ward for 90 minutes of languorous lechery.
“Within the allotted time, you can do whatever you want to any of the sleeping women,” the sensei explains, passing him a packet of five condoms.
“A” then enters the darkened ward and approaches the bed of a sleeping “patient.” With one hand he beams his penlight towards her pajama top, and finding a target, reaches out with his other hand to fondle her breast. The woman emits a murmur, but continues to feign slumber. He then unceremoniously slides down her pajama bottoms and proceeds to stimulate her clitoris through the material of her panties until he feels the stirrings of a gusher.
Aroused to a semi-somnambulistic state, the woman slides to the edge of the bed and commences servicing “A” orally. While receiving this deep-throat therapy, he hears moans and giggles emanating from nearby beds, making the ward’s sound effects resemble an orgy (which, in a sense, it is).
Duly aroused, he slips on a condom, couples with her in the missionary position and spends himself.
After discarding the used condom in a receptacle labeled “medical waste,” “A” then makes the rounds in the ward to check on other patients, which he completes without exchanging so much as one word.
Showering by himself before departing, “A” felt a slight twinge of regret at the ignominious fate of a respectable medical institution. But on the other hand, this carnal consultation came in at the top in terms of sensual satisfaction.
Exactly one month after the visit, the hospital’s sale was concluded, thereby marking its demise as a brothel.
But the overall diagnosis is that similar opportunities are almost certain to arise. With the economy in a shambles and no recovery in sight, “A” notes that more of these illicit sex businesses may be working in close concert with real estate brokers to arrange for similar short-term tenancy of vacant buildings.
Who knows? This may be the start of a whole new trend. (A.T.)
Source: “Yobai naasu ihou chon no ma!!” Jitsuwa Knuckles (Mar. ’09, page 60)