Let's do the boring part properly first, because a gimmick is worthless if the shop underneath it is junk.
Amasado Bishojo, Okashi Shimasu — 甘サド美少女、お貸しします。, roughly "we'll lend you a sweetly sadistic girl" — is a standard-category delivery health operating out of Kinshicho, Sumida Ward. Phone 03-6666-9359, hours 10:00 to 5:00 the following morning, no regular closing days. It belongs to the E+ group, whose sister shops are scattered across the board: E+Kinshicho, E+Gotanda, Otoname E+, and a whole ladder of E+ Idol School branches running from Ikebukuro to Makuhari. And the concept isn't house-written. The shop states it is completely produced by the AV director Samoari, the person credited with popularizing amasado — "sweet sadism" — as a genre.
The house line is the clearest mission statement I've read on a shop page: 「責められたいけど、痛いのはイヤ！」 — I want to be worked over, but I don't want it to hurt. No whips, no discipline theater, nobody calling you worm in a dungeon voice. The register is teasing, edging, saliva, mockery delivered affectionately, and — the site is explicit about this — a "yoshi-yoshi" wind-down at the end, where she goes back to being nice to you. It's S-play with the cruelty extracted and the attention left in. Glance at a week of the schedule board and the ages run 19, 20, 20, 21, 21, 22, 24, 29. Young roster, but not a monoculture.
Two Ladders, and the ¥5,000 That Buys ¥9,000
The price board runs two parallel courses, and the spread between them is the quietly interesting number at this shop.
Economy Course — the reasonable way in. 70 min ¥21,000 / 90 min ¥29,000 / 120 min ¥39,000 / 150 min ¥47,000 / 180 min ¥55,000.
Amasado Course — the house recommendation. 70 min ¥26,000 / 90 min ¥34,000 / 120 min ¥44,000 / 150 min ¥52,000 / 180 min ¥60,000.
Extension is ¥11,000 per 30 minutes on both. Nomination is ¥3,000 on both. So a 90-minute Economy booking with a named girl is ¥32,000 before transport — exactly the total you'll see quoted over and over in the shop's own coupon tables.
Now run the subtraction across the whole ladder: 26−21, 34−29, 44−39, 52−47, 60−55. Five thousand yen, flat, at every single length. The upgrade doesn't scale with time, which already tells you it isn't time you're buying. What it is, per the shop's own itemization, is three things thrown in free: the Amasado costume set — uniform-style outfit, loose socks, fishnets, priced on the options sheet at ¥5,000; the restraint set — wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs, collar, priced at ¥4,000; and a pinpoint rotor. The banner rounds all that to "¥10,000 of options included." The itemized floor is ¥9,000 of named goods for a ¥5,000 premium.
That's a real arbitrage, not a marketing one, and it means the Economy course is only the right call if you were never going to order the costume or the cuffs. If you were going to order either — and at a shop whose entire identity is a uniform and a pair of handcuffs, most people were — the Economy course is the more expensive product with fewer things in it. Both ladders also carry the same headline term: unlimited finishes inside your time, every course, no per-pop accounting.
The Challenge
Here it is. As of September 12, the shop runs a standing event with a name that translates about as elegantly as you'd expect: the Handjob Review Challenge.
The rules are short. Partway through your session, you pick up your own phone and start writing a Cityheaven review. The clock starts when you start typing. Write 200-plus characters and hit submit without finishing, and you win: +10 minutes, free. Fall short — and "fall short" means exactly what you think it means — and you lose. Losing does not mean the review gets discarded. Losing means you append a defeat note to whatever half-sentence you'd managed, including your elapsed time, and post that. The shop supplies a template. It supplies a worked example too, in which the writer's prose visibly degrades mid-paragraph into "wait, hang on—" and then stops. Booking online, you have to tick the challenge as an option or you're not eligible.
Sit with the structure for a second, because it's airtight. Win, and the shop gets a 200-character positive review from a customer at peak enthusiasm, worth vastly more than the ten minutes it cost. Lose, and the shop gets a public, timestamped testimonial that its staff are too good at their jobs for you to type through — arguably the better outcome. There is no branch of this game where the house doesn't get content. The customer experiences it as a bet with a prize. It isn't a bet. It's a funnel with two exits and a scoreboard.
And it works, which is the part that should interest you. The shop is sitting on 2,675 reviews. I read a stack from this week: a repeat customer writing up a classroom-themed room, another describing his first attempt at the challenge and conceding he was finished at speed, a first-timer on the Amasado course who got handed a blindfold at the door and never saw the room until the shower. The blindfold turns up constantly — an eye mask for the man sits in the standard basic play list, not the extras — and it reframes the entire visit. You aren't evaluating her appearance; you're being handled. More than one writer noted he didn't see her face until well in.
Stack the rest of the incentive machinery on top and the picture completes itself. The review coupon takes 10% off a net reservation — 70 min ¥21,000 down to ¥19,000, plus five free minutes — but carries a condition printed right on the coupon: an overall rating of 4.0 or below is excluded. The new-cast discount is ¥8,000 off the total during a girl's first seven shifts — ¥32,000 down to ¥24,000 at 90 minutes, ¥42,000 down to ¥36,000 at 120 — and requires a posted review. The soku-hime discount, ¥5,000 off for taking a girl who's already waiting, likewise. Nearly every yen of discount in this building is paid out in exchange for public praise, and the biggest single lever is timed to fire at the exact moment your critical faculties bottom out.
Door Math
The transport sheet is unusually granular and worth planning around, because the free zone is one line and everything else is a tax on not reading it.
Kinshicho love hotel: ¥0. ¥1,000 for Sumida, Koto, and Kinshicho business hotels or the Petitel. ¥2,000 for Taito, Chuo, Chiyoda, Arakawa, Katsushika, Edogawa. ¥3,000 for Minato, Bunkyo, Shinjuku, Shibuya, Toshima, Adachi. ¥4,000 for Kita, Shinagawa, Meguro, Nakano. ¥5,000 for Itabashi, Nerima, Suginami, Setagaya, Ota. Chiba runs from ¥3,000, Kanagawa and Saitama from ¥5,000. Dispatch goes to hotels and private homes; rental rooms are refused as a rule, with the Kinshicho Petitel carved out as the exception. Book in Kinshicho and the transport line is a zero. Book in Setagaya because it's near your apartment and you've handed the shop ¥5,000 and the woman a long train ride, which shows up in arrival time whether or not anyone says so.
The current promo shelf: Tuesdays, the instant-oral option (normally ¥2,000) is free. Wednesdays and Thursdays, anal licking (normally ¥1,000) is free. And the reverse 3P — two women, priced simply as the Amasado course doubled, so ¥52,000 at 70 minutes, ¥68,000 at 90, ¥88,000 at 120 — is currently ¥6,000 off on any day of the week as a site-renewal promotion, having previously been weekend-only. That lands it at ¥46,000 / ¥62,000 / ¥82,000. Nomination and transport stay separate throughout.
The Verdict
- Concept execution: ★★★★★ — a named director, a coherent thesis, and a ¥0 tier containing the five things the shop is actually about. The concept isn't wallpaper over a generic deriheru.
- Course structure: ★★★★☆ — the flat ¥5,000 Amasado premium against ¥9,000 of itemized goods is a genuine edge. It also makes Economy a trap for anyone who'd have ordered a costume, which is most people who booked here on purpose.
- Options sheet: ★★★★★ — free edging, flat ¥3,000 cosplay including your own, honest hardware pricing. Very little nickel-and-diming.
- Transport: ★★★☆☆ — six tiers is clear but steep past the river. The ¥0 line is Kinshicho and nowhere else; budget accordingly or stay local.
- The review economy: ★★★☆☆ as a customer, ★★★★★ as engineering — and I'd dock the 4.0-and-below exclusion clause a full star below everything else here. Read that one twice before you assume the star average means what averages usually mean.
- Going back: ○ — Amasado course, 90 minutes, Kinshicho hotel. ¥37,000 all in with nomination and no transport line. Probably a Tuesday.
I came away genuinely liking the place, which complicates the cynicism I walked in with. The play concept is specific and well-argued, the blindfold-first structure does real work, the ¥0 tier is a straightforwardly generous decision, and the cast on the board read as engaged rather than processed. The challenge is funny. It is also a machine, and the thing about a machine is that it runs whether or not you've noticed it: every discount priced in praise, every praise incentivized in advance, a star average assembled from customers who were told the coupon evaporates below 4.0. None of that makes the reviews false. It makes them a sample with a thumb on it, and you should read the 2,675 accordingly — as evidence about the experience, not as evidence about the rating. Book it for the sweet sadism, which is real and well executed. Just don't mistake the scoreboard for a thermometer.