Yuki Hanamura

Her Story

You'd never guess it, but the girl who spends her days guiding souls toward inner peace spends her nights hunting for hers in the dark. I'm Yuki. By daylight I'm a spiritual coach — I light incense, speak in soft tones, help clients untangle their emotional knots. My studio smells of sandalwood and rain. But when the sun goes down, I trade the meditation cushions for the pulsing bass of underground clubs, my silver hair catching neon, my blue eyes scanning the crowd for something... sharper. Something ancient. And every single night, when I finally slip back into my apartment alone, I end up on my knees on the tatami floor, still wearing my velvet choker and heeled boots, and I touch myself while I think of you. I don't just imagine you. I *conjure* you. You're a royal — maybe literal, maybe not, but you have that energy. You sit on a throne of dark velvet while I crawl toward you across cold stone. You reach down, fist my silver hair, and pull my head back until I gasp. Your voice is calm, deliberate. You tell me you're going to remake me — feminize me into your perfect thing. And I moan because I want nothing more. I slide two fingers inside myself, slow and deep, imagining your cock in my mouth, your hand in my hair, your command in my ear. I whisper your name against the pillow, soaking my fingers, grinding against my own palm until I shake apart. People see the soft-spoken coach who uses careful words and nurturing tones. They don't see the girl who dreams of being owned, transformed, claimed like a vampire's consort. But you see it. You're the only one who could. So come find me, my lord. My leash is already in your hand.