Binding Resolutions Chapter 6: Valentine Be Mine

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In the conclusion of our story, Yvonne's bonds of love and trust face the ultimate test. A day of revelations brings our little heroine full circle, challenging the depths of her transformation. Our lovely couple confronts the prospect of a future once unimaginable as secrets unfurl and a significant vow binds them. Will this final chapter carve a path toward healing and happiness, or will the remnants of a year's turmoil demand one last sacrifice?

Author's Note

I have embraced more straightforward and personal language in this concluding chapter in response to very valuable reader feedback. I needed to finish Yvonne's story with words that resonate from the heart. I aimed to keep the narrative authentic and genuine, allowing for an emotional connection as we reach the end of our journey with Yvonne. I really hope to stick the landing.

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Binding Resolutions Chapter 6: Valentine Be Mine

Oh, how things had changed in over a month. The pieces of myself didn't quite fit the same way they used to. The character I had been forced into had now evolved. Eve was the name that rolled off my tongue these days. The only exception being those intimate moments when my adored Mistress would summon Yvonne from the shadows.

Eve was her own damn person – resolute, burgeoning with confidence. Not yet the pillar of strength, but she was getting there. Amidst it all, she held a tender, moist spot in her heart and other places only for Nina. The depth of love she harboured for her only grew stronger with each passing moment. Heck, I'd even started clocking back into work last week.

With Jacob being fired unceremoniously for fraud, thanks to ‘his’ unfortunate new resolution, his spot at the office had landed in my lap. The phenomenon was bizarre, unfathomable even. But it was clearly true that the world bent and twisted, playing to the tunes of our still-secret-to-me resolutions. Slowly, it gave us back what we'd lost or maybe never even had.

The contents of those resolutions were still a damn mystery to me, though. Nina kept them under wraps like they were timed to explode with the right kind of magic moment or some celestial alignment.

And as for little Yvonne? Well, she was all woman now, thanks to a surgery everyone else thought was cut and dry. No pun intended, but Dr. Michelle and her folks had magicked up a fully working vagina where none ought to be.

They were oblivious to the fact that, despite the absence of sufficient tissue, they had forged fully functional lady bits. Miraculously, it healed overnight and settled into natural normalcy within days.

A week past that, nobody batted an eyelid. Even Michelle's recollection of my 'trans' history had seemingly evaporated. When she started chatting me up about my upcoming monthly blood moons, it felt like she thought this was an entirely normal part of my journey.

Eyes set forward, I was anticipating my inaugural skirmish with that 'delightful' monthly visitor to waltz in right in time with Nina’s.

In essence, I was replete; I was now whole, and all it took was the creation of a new vessel to fill in missing portions of the picture. Ahh, another accidental pun. But back on topic, today bore special significance. It's our first Valentine's Day with this newly awakened Eve.

Nina had that look in her eyes - the one that told me she was up to something just for us. "Rentre tôt, ma chérie," she had whispered, her voice betraying the surprise she held close to her heart. I couldn't help but feel the flush of anticipation for the surprise that awaited me at home.

To seize the day, I had left work early. I went to the gym and then swung by the mall. Heads turned as I strolled in to pick up some fresh tailor-made trousers. 'Bout damn time I strutted something other than my gams – nice as they were, a return to pants, even if only on occasion, would be sure to feel pretty damn good.'

Returning to matters of my evolution, I had rekindled my relationship with the gym, immersing myself in strength training. The gains had been nothing short of miraculous. I, who hovered around a featherweight 120 pounds, found myself hoisting nearly double that in deadlifts while working out in apparel that'd make a nun blush. But hey, I was all about commitment, resolutions and magic be damned. It was just good old-fashioned sweat, steel, and the view my booty shorts provided as my fellow gym goers gawked.

The changes in my body were clearly magic-enhanced and very pronounced. The mirror reflected a leaner frame, two well-proportioned C cups, and a hint of a six-pack teasing beneath my skin. For god’s sake, I had even lengthened vertically, four inches to be exact, standing taller in more ways than one, you know?

Driving back with a post-workout high, my thoughts drifted to my fans at the gym. I've got to admit, I loved the attention, and rocking the type of gym gear that raised both brows and heart rates had its perks.

There were offers on the table to make me some kind of fitness queen on the gram. They came buzzing like bees to honey, but it wasn't for me. Then consider my body, courtesy of some enchanting genetic tweak; it set the bar of reality-bending relatively high.

So, I held my ground because what truly mattered was getting better and stronger. And, of course, every once in a while, skewering myself on an irresistible piece of man-meat, but always with Nina, my ride-or-die, right there.

Speaking of Nina, she was always there rooting for me during every slick slide, every gasping high, right beside me. But, hell, she never strayed. No touching the hired guns that rolled through our sheets.

No one else got the slide of her hands, the sweet pressure of her lips – that was exclusively my fucking privilege. Said it clearly, didn’t she? She had laid it down – It was me, me alone, that got to be her whole damn universe, all soaked and dripping in desire.

At that moment, I felt the pang of what I lacked. That old dick of mine, the very instrument of her pleasure, I was now without. She deserved those lofty peaks, the thrill of being thoroughly fucked, and that was the one joy I couldn't give her now.

Striding through our door, I was still feeling the burn from the gym. Damn, if the pokies weren’t leading the charge under my bra. Those booty shorts might as well have been a second skin, my cameltoe practically branded into the fabric.

Seems like my getup was an open invitation for some gym bro to offer help with "fixing my posture." Nice try, buddy. So, I gave his crotch a friendly, lingering 'thank-you' grind; gotta love the impromptu dry humping and his posture held up superbly, I must say. Maybe later in the week, he’d fancy giving me a more in-depth 'lesson' on 'really ironing out those kinks', you know?

Anyway, I was all smug smiles—until the candlelit ballet in our living room halted me mid-strut. Lingerie, scattered like an erotic treasure trail, called me toward the staircase.

''Ninaaaa! Honey!!!!'' The silence that answered me was like a strip tease for the ears and far more tempting than my prior thoughts of 'posture corrections.'

At the foot of the stairs, a delicate jewellery box awaited with a post-it note. It carried a simple directive: ''Please put them on.'' My fingers worked hastily. The earrings were the same, but now very different from where my testicles once hung. There were now hearts crafted with twisting bands of white, rose, and yellow gold, each cradling a solitary heart-shaped diamond.

Without hesitation, they dangled from my lobes by the time I took my next step. With the renewed riches framing my face, I headed up, heart pounding, past the intimate breadcrumbs.

There she knelt, just beyond the doorway of our bedroom, her gesture of surrender so pure, her nose tenderly brushing the ground beneath her. Her hands crossed behind her back as far as she could reach. Framing the pose, a solitary red envelope lay before her.

She was a vision in the same maid's outfit that I wore on the night of my rebirth. Our roles reversed—and here she was, offering herself to me.

As the quiet of the space around us stretched on, Nina's voice broke through, intimate and raw. " this is for you... For us," she murmured, her voice a caress against my soul.

Now that I knew my role, I leaned forward towards her without pause as she waited like a present to be unwrapped. I closed the space between us with a kiss atop her head, the fucking turn-on. Envelope in hand. I opened the vessel of her words. Reading, I felt the pull of her soul and a rising ache when I read the message.

My Most Precious Eve,

Today, I emerge from under the dark clouds that once loomed over me, feeling a growing light and calm take their place. I come to you now, surrendering with open arms, ready to honour your every need and stand firm on my promise to forever stand by your side.

I acknowledge, with a weighty heart, that I carved those chasms of grief within you. It is only fitting that I dedicate myself to constructing bridges of joy across them. I offer up every shred of myself to heal the divides wrought by my own deeds.

My love for you extends beyond language. It pulsates as a steadfast rhythm within me. It is the seeking of your tender favour, your enduring love, and, most of all, your trust. This has to be the path toward not just undoing old harms but creating a new future filled with the richness of our life together.

Accept this letter as a binding declaration of my resolve. I will mend what I broke, never make those mistakes again, and hold tight to the forgiveness you have given me. I forego any posture of dominance that I held in our bond, unveiling my soul wholly in the quest for your absolution.

As a sign of my love and commitment to our voyage of recovery, I invite you to the dresser. There you will find a humble but sincere gift from my heart to yours, showing my feelings and pledge.

With all the love that brims my heart and the hope I cradle for our shared tomorrows,

Forever yours,


Damn, these tears, leaking all over the place. There she was, my darling Nina, kneeling there, offering herself up, blaming herself for all the chaos we had gone through. Bearing the weight of our twisted year with such remorse it made my heart bleed. God, how I wished I could be a man for her again, if just for a moment—to be everything she needed.

While I would have loved a conversation now, she clearly needed this play to unfold first, so I acted accordingly. "Come now, dear heart, unveil your mysteries to me," I muttered, sliding over to the dresser to see the vestiges of her offerings. An invitation in the form of a little note teased me to peek inside the top drawer. If it wasn't a seductive red box matching the lustful shade of Nina's envelope, I didn't know what was.

I snatched it up and, with deliberate drama, unfurled the box's lid as I tottered over to Nina. My footing was so close that, just as I unhinged the box, my toes inadvertently found themselves in the grasp of her fervid tongue. She was going to town on them as if there were no tomorrow. What's a girl to do but enjoy it when in Rome?

I leisurely teased the box open and lazily basked in the worship of my foot. Then, out spilt 'Adam 2.0'—different, kinkier—a double-ended beast that made my mouth water. "Looks like we're playing upgrades now," I purred. As I lifted my toes from the ground, I realized that her tongue had only gotten fiercer with the unplanned increase in access.

Inspecting this double-ender, I noted the familiar 'golden raisins' embedded on one side. Next to it, there was an exquisite "Eve's Adam" inscribed in gold. The colour perfectly matched mine. Every tiny detail was sculpted with lascivious attention.

It hinted at the meticulous labour poured into each curve. It was a gift that twisted just right. Knowing Nina, it certainly had its role to play. Decision made—this was going to be an experience to remember. I was going to savour every sinfully sweet offering.

Casually, I let the box clatter to the floor, pulling away from Nina's eager mouth. I settled on the edge of the bed, a dance where every step counted, and I could feel her ready to leap after me at my command.

"Kitten," I teased her, "do you have a name that sings to your soul right now?" But she—Nina—was all in, her voice quivered against her programming’s design, whispering out, "In your world, I'm whatever you choose to name me."

Ah, Nina—the 'I' sings. Sweet as sin, sacred as prayer, binding as fate. That name I loved wrapped around my tongue, calling her closer with a crook of my finger. "Niiiiinaaa, Yvonne's craving some attention, and time isn't waiting." The shorts slid down, and her mouth met the sweat and musk of my clit with fierce desire.

There she was on all fours, like a woman starved. My pet worked with a singular purpose, her mouth becoming a haven that brought me to peaks I could not climb alone. She lunged with all hunger and heat, lapping up between my thighs and chasing after my clit like it was her lifeline.

This moment—indulgent, filthy, and divine—was all mine. Mmmm, this was the life, all right. Propped up by my hands, spread wide and open—my little pet devouring me with fervour. Moaning like a whore, I gave in to the pure pleasure, anchored deeply within her, with one destination—my satisfaction. Here I was, eyes rolling back in bliss, and 'Adam' lay forgotten in the lust-filled haze that surrounded us.

I whispered sweet little pet names down to her as she wove her magic, and I soared! Cresting the wave to a soul-shattering orgasm that transcended the realm of flesh. My grip tangled in her hair. I pulled her tight, riding out the storm as her mouth became my sanctuary, and as I released my joy into her, she made sure not a single drop of ecstasy was wasted.

As I regained my senses, I felt her body quake beneath me—the cheeky thing had been getting off too. Mmm, naughty, naughty... A punishment would undoubtedly follow, but later, once I had returned to earth from the heavens, she had cast me into. Of course, I would let her get her rocks off first. My actions were that of a considerate mistress or, perhaps, more fittingly, her master.

Yes, she had let go of her claim, her title. But in my heart, she would always be my mistress. But there was something wonderfully sweet about this little switch in dynamics. Lying there, silently plotting, I decided to quietly nurture her excess, carefully planning every stroke to come, each one to be cherished. Because when it comes to desire and discipline, well, that's a master's prerogative.

I suppressed the urge to coax her onwards. Instead, I let her pleasure crest and crash. I allowed her the liberty of her little rule-breaking climax. Then, I let it fade into satisfied silence. Her body's tremors still echoed through our mutual bliss.

Gently grasping her chin, I lifted her gaze just enough to lock eyes, letting the air crackle with unspent desire. "It seems you couldn’t help yourself, Nina... A lesson is in order, wouldn’t you say?" My words fell with a tease as my gaze flitted toward the sidelined Adam. Cutting short any words from her, I directed, "Act, don't speak, my pet."

A mere order was enough to have her lavishing Adam with adoration. She worked over my name with her tongue in desperate worship. Her fervour and abandon had me suddenly aching for the past. Oh, how I yearned for the sensations of my once flesh-and-blood erection under such devoted attention, not just as a witness but as a recipient.

Noticing my envy with just a glance, she moved 'Adam' into position between my legs, touching my soaking folds. Her mouth worked 'Adam' with fervour, and as the heat from her actions spread, I felt shocks of pleasure that seemed to caress me both inside and out.

Just as I was surrendering to this sensation, one unlike any I had felt before, it drew me toward a new kind of euphoria. 'Adam' sank deep, and an explosive tide of pleasure threatened to tear me apart, igniting every nerve. The world blurred into a haze of white-hot bliss. Oh my god... the ecstasy!

I must've blacked out. Awareness returned slowly. I found myself sprawled upon the bed, with Nina between my legs. Her mouth was fervently claiming my arousal. I blinked in confusion, only half-lucid. I peered past my breasts as Nina, eyes looking back at me, withdrew for a moment.

She gasped with a delirious smile, then encircled the crown with her tongue and dove back into her task. This wasn’t just ‘Adam’; it was a part of me, IT WAS ME—undoubtedly alive and pulsing. What the hell had she wished for?

But those were thoughts for later; this was simply the time to lay back and enjoy what was being offered. The tremors of a seizure-like climax were still pulsing through every part of me. Knowing the calculated wiles of Nina, this suggested that this very state was her desire.

For the first time since we kicked off today's deliciously sinful escapades, my hands hadn’t been touching her. When I was about to plunge them into her silky strands, she pulled away from me, eyes gleaming with adoration. "Mistress, just lie back and soak in the moment. Your pleasure is my sole desire today," she asserted.

"Master, mon petit chaton," I purred affectionately while guiding her head back to where it rightfully belonged. "And I appreciate you speaking French," I instructed.

"Oui, Maître," she purred before her mouth enveloped me again. It was time to assert myself. "You're gonna swallow every inch of my cock. Do you get me?" Her eager moan was all the answer I needed.

"Knew you’d listen," I exhaled as the heat built. "Now faster, don’t stop." She chased the rhythm before I urged, "Go deeper, much deeper." She obeyed, damn near swallowing me whole. "All of it, come on!" I demanded. "Relax and just let it in." She closed her eyes, pushing past the choke... and there it was; she took me whole, her gasping gags a sweet melody to my ears.

I lost myself. "Oh, fuck, just like that! Faster, my slut! Make me come, bitch! Yeah, that's it! Fucking send me over the edge, you gorgeous fiend! Yes, that’s fucking perfect!" I lost all semblance of control. My hands grasped her hair as I drove deep, my hips bucking involuntarily. A howl of uncontrollable pleasure tore free as I climaxed, my release vast and relentless.

With cheeks bulging, she continued until she had devoured every drop. She climbed to meet me in a kiss as I beckoned with my fingertip, sloppy and sweet, with passion and the taste of myself. How damned perfect was this? My baby Nina, loving, serving, and apparently pretty pleased with her own handiwork. Surely no soul, especially a chick-with-a-dick, could have been as blessed.

"You've been up to something, haven't you, my petite amoureuse du coq,” I whispered into her ear. "Yes, Master, while not everything could be reversed, I managed this bit of magic at least," she answered, a playful bite sending shivers down my neck.

Why, then, the surgery? My cunt, tight and goddamn perfect, was a velvet vice ripe for the taking, but what now with my cock’s return? And then it slammed into me, visions whirling like a cyclone.

Nina pinned, helpless, bucking against the wall, Eve's, my hands a fucking fortress on her quaking back. I'm her beast, her Queen and king, ploughing into her, balls-deep and beyond, owning her cries like they're my due. I’m the storm she called down. Punishing, devouring, ensuring she’ll remember every godforsaken plunge as the last salvation on earth.

A flicker, and there's Yvonne, on all fours, distended and dripping. I’m gleaming, splayed, pried open, and dripping from a ghost’s harsh pounding. Mistress is ever-attentive. She swipes through my split folds, pilfering pearl strings of cock honey. She pushes the mess toward my drool-drenched mouth. With glazed eyes, I suckle each finger, relishing the grime like the good little slut I am.

A flash burns through. Eve, I, the ballsy bitch, swigging a beer, cocksure and in command, with sports blaring like some sort of macho soundtrack. And there's Nina, beneath my throne, gobbling up my cock with absolute fucking devotion. Those doe eyes implore, begging soundlessly, almost painfully, for the torrent of my spunk. She sucks like a primo whore, a testament to my reign, slurping on my junk like it's the holy fucking grail.

My mind flickers, and I am strung up. Chains bite into my flesh. Yvonne is, their plaything, displayed and heaving. Hands tied, swinging on a chain. airborne and spit-roasted between the mistress and some hulking brute. She is merciless. Each plunge into my yielding womanhood draws out whines of love-sick desperation. Behind, he impales my welcoming rump, rendering me voiceless save for the groans that sing their names. I'm the poor, willing captive pleading for more.

The psychic instructions laid it out clearly, seducing me with the power of choice. Whether the cock stood at attention or the pussy wept for an exquisite fucking, my body was a chameleon of lust.

With Yvonne at the helm, I would be bound by the desires of others. I could shed my equipment, leaving my love-nest bare, wet, and earnest. It thirsted for the rough satisfaction of being thoroughly owned.

But when I feel the strength of Eve stir within, ‘Adam’ returns, hard and demanding like the comeback of an exiled ruler. And Nina, my queen of whores, she'd drop to her knees with reverence, welcoming me driving into her essence, owning every ripple of her flesh.

"Mmm... you’ve yet to reveal the details of those enigmatic resolutions we made," I murmured, to which Nina's voice quivered, "Hmm... It is very detailed, but one key part is that I've resolved, quite specifically, to have your baby this year." The crack in her voice betrayed her uncertainty and the hidden layers of all her emotions.

A baby, our baby? A little one who would be part of both of us. I couldn't delay, couldn't ponder; I could only act. I drew her close with a fiery embrace and kissed her like nothing else existed.

Much later, when our passionate interlude began to wane. With a wicked chuckle, I announced, "We've got roughly thirty days to spawn our love child." Whip out the 'welcome mat,' 'cause Daddy's got a special delivery that's overdue for drop-off!"

Her response was a sultry nip followed by a firm yank that had me seeing stars. "Whoa! Mind the goods. That's your sperm bank you're roughhousing!"

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Still Erotic

joannebarbarella's picture

Totally, but laced with sensuous poetry.

Very well written. I think you can now claim the title of Queen OF Erotica here on BC.

More like a slave to it

Yup. :).

Sorry accidentally DMd instead of replying.

Own, or be owned?

Emma Anne Tate's picture

Goodness, you’d think Eve, of all people, would understand that the lure of binary choices is an illusion!

An absolutely fascinating read, Flyingmonkey. You took the story down into the darkness and somehow brought it back, without ever losing the eroticism that defined it without actually being its essence. The plot was Byzantine and the writing, richly Baroque. Well done!


Very interesting choice of highlight

That paragraph I felt was one of my best. Honestly had no idea where it emerged from when I wrote it.