He walked into my space carrying two things:

He walked into my space carrying two things:
a fantasy he never dared to touch, and a wife he wanted to honor with it.

Men like him don’t come to me because they’re weak.
They come because they want to rise into a moment they’ve never tasted before —
and because they know an MMF is not a playground you enter blindly.

He told me, with a voice trying to steady itself,
“I don’t want to disappoint her… teach me how to perform before she returns from her trip.”

There’s a beautiful honesty in that.
A man willing to face his own ego so he could deliver a fantasy crafted for the woman he loves.

So I took the lead.

He had secretly booked two hotel rooms:
one for the sin,
and one for his questions, anxieties, and confessions —
the prelude every man must walk through before stepping into the forbidden.

When Katsu and I entered the first room, it was empty —
silent, untouched, almost ceremonial.
A stage waiting for its conductor.

Sessions like this don’t begin with bodies.
They begin with atmosphere.
If the room can’t obey the fantasy,
the people inside it won’t obey it either.

Then my phone lit up:

“Come to my room.”

So I walked.

Inside was the man — standing, hands slightly trembling, wanting to talk.
He told me how the idea began,
how long it lived in the shadows of his mind,
how fear and desire had been wrestling inside him for months.

I listened.
I always listen.
That’s how I hear a man’s unspoken scream.

TO THE SIN ROOM

Then he met my bull —
Katsu.
A man I trust.
A man who moves with experience, not arrogance.
A man who knows how to dance in my rhythm without needing directions.

He poured me a glass of wine.
We toasted — not to pleasure,
but to the courage it takes for a man to face his own fantasy
and walk into it willingly.

My sessions only work if the entire dynamic respects boundaries
and strengthens the husband instead of threatening him.
This isn’t about who is “more man.”
It’s about who can hold the moment with integrity.

He didn’t realize how quickly I become the role.
I don’t warm up.
I don’t test the water.
The second the door closes,
I am the script.

The moment I stepped in, the air tightened —
that heavy silence when everyone knows
the fantasy has already begun.

He watched me.
He watched how I positioned him with authority but without humiliation.
How I guided him without touching his pride.
How I calibrated the entire tempo of the room so nothing felt forced, rushed, or competitive.

People think MMF is about bodies crossing.
It isn’t.
It’s about psychology,
power balance,
instinct,
and helping a man find his rightful place in a scene where another man is present —

without losing himself,
without shrinking,
without fighting a battle no one asked him to fight.

Then came the moment that stunned them both.

During the briefing, I shifted the energy —
a subtle movement, deliberate and precise.
Both the husband and Katsu froze.
That second of silence where they realized
I wasn’t “in character.”
I was commanding the entire frequency of the room.

Even Katsu — who always thought he was a switch —
finally discovered he is a full dominant
when placed under the right orchestration.

In their silence, I felt it:
the excitement,
the surrender,
the trust that only exists when men know
they are in capable hands.

The positions running through their minds…
the choreography of desire…
the ideas they were afraid to voice…

Yes, we explored them all.
Every angle, every dynamic, every scenario they imagined
but never thought possible.
Even the ones that felt like math problems with no logical solution —
we solved those too.

That’s what a conductor does.

The husband followed beautifully.
No panic.
No awkwardness.
Just a man discovering a version of himself
he had never met.

And when it was over,
his eyes said everything —
that dazed, breathless look of a man
who stepped into a dream
he wasn’t ready to leave.

And yes —
he extended.

He thanked me.
But he didn’t need to.

I don’t guide these fantasies for gratitude.
I guide them because some desires need a steady hand,
a sharp mind,
and someone unafraid to hold the taboo
without breaking the tenderness inside it.

Another man awakened.
Another marriage strengthened.
Another private desire brought to life
with elegance, intelligence, and control.

— Mysticflower