My Decision (M/F)

[AlexUSA3]

Introduction

I am a 95/5 submissive with men, but I am a true 50/50 switch when I am with women. I am not nearly as naughty as it sounds; with men, I only sleep with them if I feel more than just lust with them. My list of men is all of two. My list of girls is much longer. I figured I would share some brief encounters. In this order.

What is unusual is that with girls I am only interested in sex if bondage is involved. Contrary to my reputation as “bondage sexual,” I have willingly and happily had sex with a man without any rope getting involved. It is very complicated, as you will. I finally reached a point where I knew I could call myself a good Roman Catholic anymore, and my faith had to come first. My sexual attractions were real, but that didn't justify fornication.

This story is the story of how I proved my friends wrong and finally took the great leap towards what I believe to be true womanhood.

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My Decision (M/F)
Thursday, July 4, 2024

“So, Philip, how about we go back to my place, hmmm?” I seductively kiss my date in his car.

Philip Masterson was the only man whom I taught how to properly tie up a girl. He was a most considerate man, and part of me hopes that one day marriage will happen. We’ve been off and on for the better part of 7 years, and we have not rushed things because of my youth. I know it is different to hear my perspective as opposed to Hannah talking of me always needing someone as a housemate and such, and she is correct in that sense. I cannot, but when you’re married you’re not living alone. You decide at the end of this story. I spoil bits and pieces without saying much in hopes of moving your imagination. Needless to say, Hannah’s perspective is distorted because I do not talk about my love life too much with her.

“Philip,” I repeat, though it sounds more like “Philippe” when I say it, “Please? Hmmm?”
“Well, well,” his deep voice chuckles a little; he’s only a few days my senior, “All right.”
“I want to play soft tonight, if we can. Cozy, romantic, and kinky.”
“All right,” he kisses me back, and his slight stubble and aftershave are so exciting.
“Shall we go then?” I peer into his eyes to see what he is thinking and never see anything.
“Let’s go. I just don’t want to wake your landlady,” he laughs a little.

I am always dressed in certain ways. If it is gym day, I am either in gym shorts or a skort. If I am at work, I am in my work uniform. If I am not at either, then I am probably wearing a skirt and pantyhose. No matter which it is, I am likely wearing a bandana on my head, although in a few scenarios my preferred paisley patterns are considered unacceptable, like at work, and I try to not wear patterns on date nights unless it is seasonal. Like, today is Independence Day, so I’m wearing one of my American flag bandana headbands.

At supper, I am naughty, stealing a couple of bites from Philip’s plate. At the baseball game, I’m cheering for the Minnesota Twins like anybody else there; when Philip has his back to me, I take his hand in my own to hold. When we get home, we are quiet, and I shut the door to my room to turn on the TV. I use the little TV for nothing but watching baseball; my landlady does not even have television because she is not interested. Yes, Hannah is my landlady.

I open the closet and take a small travel bag off the top shelf and put it on my dresser. This is the bag of toys. All I use for personal bondage play is in this bag. It's a small bag compared to most of my friends, but I am Ashley and not one of them. It has all I need to have fun with Hannah at home, with Philip, or at a friend's house.

“Shall we start like normal?” I ask my guest of the evening, “With some soft mouthwork?”
“I’ll start in any way you like,” he smirks a little, which is his way of saying, “Yes.”

I hand him my clothesline. Clothesline is always my preferred way of being tied up when there is a more consensual and romantic atmosphere. My friends vary, but for me clothesline reminds me of the “cute girl bound and gagged” atmosphere of Tied After Class. I can handle the clothesline for much longer as well; to my knowledge, I’ve never needed to be released from a clothesline bondage due to being tied up for too long. I do not know which part is my favorite. I love crossed wrists and crossed ankles being tied, but I also like having tied elbows. Maybe it is the harness, but there is a reason for such a simple tie. Having favorites is not an essential thing. I am tied up effectively with the clothesline. It is very good bondage, but then comes the best part of this romance: sucking on Philip’s manhood.

I always perform oral sex first with a guy. I don't want to be pregnant out of wedlock, yet here I am seducing a man who goes to my own church. I feel like a hypocrite, yet at the same time the priest to whom I confess knows me and my faults. I have confessed my sins and such, and that is why I am trying to escape the bondage industry despite the therapeutic benefits I’ve received. It is hard to express myself to some friends and easy with others. This is going to be so much fun!

“Mmmmm,” I gently move my mouth up and down his increasingly hard self.
“Not bad,” he chuckles while watching a baseball game.

He gets harder and harder until he cannot take it any longer, and then he explodes into my mouth with his fluid. He tastes good! It is a bigger load than that to which I am normally accustomed. I swallow all of it patiently and without complaint. He lovingly rubs my head because he and I know we both like this but at the same time see it as non-essential to our relationship. If we had to stop doing this to continue seeing each other, we would. I realize something while licking his manhood and looking at him: I love him. I mean something more. I love Philip. We met at church and know better than to do such things! We are better than this.

“Philip, we first met 7 years ago now, and this is, what the 30th time we’ve slept together?”
“I don't keep count,” he admits, “I know I enjoy every second I am with you.”
“Then, you love me, right? Like, you love me, Ashley, and not just my face or body?”
“Yes,” he looks me in the eyes without flinching, “I love you, and I realize we are doing wrong.”
“Then, Philip, forgive me for asking,” I squirm over to be closer to him, “May we… elope?”
“Now?” I heard a little bit of concern in his voice, “And jump into forever?”
“Yes, Philip, if that is what you want. I have no parents, so a wedding means nothing to me.”
“Ashley, I’ve been hoping for a long time you would bring up this topic because I assumed you were afraid of it, but this is,” I could see the surprise in his eyes, “This is sudden.”
“Please? We do not have to do it now, but maybe tomorrow?”
“We have to wait for Monday, but… Monday, we will.”
“For now, just… love me, Philip,” I gaze into his eyes with a burning passion in my heart.

The reason for just tying my ankles now makes sense because he can easily penetrate me while we kiss. The baseball game is just noise and lights in the background while he gently fulfills my desires. Are my desires sinful though? I know just the person to ask.

———————————————————————————

Monday, July 8, 2024

“Father, forgive me, for I have sinned,” I say to my priest confessor with concern in my voice.
“Ashley, this is unlike you. You sound distraught,” his kind voice soothes my worries.
“Fr. Donnelly, because I now realize that I haven’t confessed some sins and committed new sins since my last confession.”
“Don’t be afraid, Ashley. God knows and heals a contrite heart.”
“(1), father, I am bisexual, and I have slept with many girls even if none in the past 3 years. (2), I slept with my boyfriend the other night. (3) I performed oral sex on him. (4) I have been an actress in pornographic films. And, last of all, I eloped with my boyfriend this morning, and we got a civil wedding before a church wedding. We only took a friend that we each knew would keep a secret,” I am crying now.
“Congratulations, Ashley, but you have indeed sinned in many ways…”

No one ever so lovingly talked to me about my struggles as Fr. Donnelly. He was the priest of my youth, and he was still the priest here in my American hometown almost 20 years later. It was to him I made my first confession, and it is to him I make my fist as a married woman. He has been instrumental in my development as a Roman Catholic, and without him I’d be lost in a bottle of vodka somewhere, waking up next to a person, male or female, I barely know. He came to visit me many times during those sad lonely years between my parents’ death and adulthood.

He reminded me of a great truth: that all are sinners. My attractions are fine, but acting on them is a different matter. He did something more wonderful though: he specially requested to be the priest who sealed my matrimony in the sacraments of the Church. I can never thank him enough for his lovingkindness. He shared words with my that changed my heart though.

There was one more order of business though. I had to tell my landlady, one of my best friends, about what had happened. She, too, had eloped, and surprised me with the news. Now, my turn has come to join the leagues of married women. What a thrill. What a feeling! Forever with my now husband, Philip! I adjust everything to be right. What I had said before is well illustrated at this moment. I am wearing a black knee skirt, black pantyhose, and black slip-on shoes. I have a red bandana headband and a red blouse. I take a deep breath and open the door.

“Hannah, are you here?” I ask my friend, who is a busy mother with her nearly 2 year-old girl.
“Yeah, here I am,” walks out the woman with the obvious bulge in her belly.
“I want to thank you for all the love and care, but I have news for you,” I smile and sit down.
“News? What news? You got a promotion?”
“Yes, from girlfriend and lover to wife,” I show her the cheap wedding band Philip and I chose.
“That is so awesome!” I see the happiness in her eyes, “Ashley! Congratulations! Wheeee!”

That night, when Philip ties me up, I do not suck on his manhood. I will no longer do that as it is indeed a sin in the eyes of my church. Bondage like we practice it is not a sin though. Indeed, it is but a little way in which we mutually enjoy each other's company during the deed, and my big ball gag never felt so good in my life.

Mama, Papa, hardly a day goes by where I don't mourn you. It has been over 15 years since you were stolen from me, but there is finally peace in my heart. I have friends who love me, but dear Fr. Donnelly is right. Nothing can top that my parents, as sad as I am without them, are for sure up there praying for without ceasing. They still love me, and I still love them. There is but a gap between their realm and mine that means we cannot touch, but… I would swear that, during my brief marriage ceremony, I felt Papa’s hand upon my shoulder… Mama took my hand in hers. I could almost hear them say the words in that crisp French…

“Ashley, we love you.”

I love you, too.

Now, when I sleep with Philip, it is not sin. It is special, though, even with all of our violations against our bodies. I dishonored my body in my actions, and I grieved my Lord. How great is He though! I am becoming perhaps too direct in my themes. It is essential though.

Now, I can do as my parents did: read from the Word of God, teach catechism to youths, and be an extraordinary minister of holy communion. Most of all, I can do it in good conscience. How I miss all those times I received the Body and Blood of Christ at my parent's hands. Sometimes, I feel like they still give it to me through the hands of my priest here in my new hometown.

How I miss them! How I miss the love! It's hard at times to be an only child and an orphan. All my living family is in France, where I was born. How long it has been since that dreadful day. I even sometimes pray for the soul of my aunt, wretch that she was, in the hope that she repented in those awful moments while she bled out on the ground. Why did you hurt me, Tante?

Mama, Papa, I love you, and you love me. Love the son-in-law that never got to meet you, and I hope you are also praying for him. I wish you were here to see it, but I know Jesus opened your eyes to see through the clouds to that moment just a few hours ago. I can hear your voices in the crowd of parishioners.

These ropes bind me in love. My husband is of character and uses them to make me happy and to excite me while we do the marital act. How happy he makes me, and how happy I make him! It is going to be a long time, and I am looking forward to all the little things we do to show how much we love each other… just like Mama and Papa did. No wonder I love you, Philip. You are a man like my father, of valor and faith despite our mutual sin, and you even have a scruffy beard just like he did. You are so different though, and those differences are what make you unique. It will be a pleasure.

“Ashley, I love you.”

I love you, too.

THE END

[GreyLord]

Sweet!

[hafnermg]

Great story!!

[Switcher1313]

Wonderful tale!

[AlexUSA3]

Sweet!

Great story!!

Wonderful tale!

I thought it would be interesting to go inside Ashley's mind like this. Then I realized that Hannah makes assumptions about people all the time; how would a story come across if it turned out that Hannah's assumptions weren't correct? In this case, what if Ashley had a stronger and more mature personality than Hannah thought? The result was this tale.