Bondage Journal

We had known each other practically since birth, His family's home directly behind mine in a quiet Midwestern suburb. We had always been close as friends, and no one was surprised when we became a couple in high school. Others were a bit surprised that we were still a couple upon graduation four years later. They were even more surprised when we left for our celebratory graduation trip as teenage lovers, and returned as husband and wife, having eloped as we had long planned with our accompanying friends (two others sets of couples) as witnesses.

It was during that trip, the evening before we eloped, that i was first introduced to bondage play. As an Eagle Scout, He had collected a lot of camping gear over the years, and had included several lengths of rope in His suitcase for the trip. Although we had never made love to that point, purposely waiting for our wedding night, our usual heavy foreplay was taken to a surprising new level that night as the rough ropes restrained me nicely, spread-eagle upon the bed of our hotel room with the sound of the Atlantic tides penetrating the open window to add another romantic element to the long, sensual evening.

The following morning, we were wed, my girlfriends trying futilely to hold back their tears of joy. The afternoon was spent on the beach, all six of us tanning and looking forward to the future. The early evening was spent at a nice dinner together before our friends went to a nearby club.

My new husband and I, however, retired to our hotel room. I brought out the many candles and the massage oil I had packed, and we spent several hours in foreplay before we were both ready to consummate our young marriage. Yet *i* asked to be tied again, having so thoroughly enjoyed the experience the night before. Knowing the stereotypical roles and very basic vocabulary of bondage play from the locker room chatter of gym classes, i waited until i was securely bound to the bedposts and my husband was about to finally make me a woman before i simply whispered:

"Master, claim me. Please."

Master definitely did claim me... repeatedly. He was forceful yet gentle, making my heart, my body, and my voice sing. His knot tying skills were well proven that night, holding my limbs quite secure as i repeatedly pulled against the ropes in reaction to how He played me.

By the time we made our way back to the Midwest a few days later, we had gone through nearly two boxes of condoms ourselves; our friends had reported similar experiences. Our families were stunned upon our return to see the ring upon my hand, but were amazingly supportive. And with our status as a married couple, we were able to get into the married student housing complex at the nearby college we attended that fall.

Once at college - our first time truly away from our families since our celebratory graduation trip - we truly began to explore the realm of bondage. The Internet as it is now known was in its infancy, but became very important to us beyond its academic use via the college network. We learned a lot more about bondage, especially (and most importantly) how to play safely, and about the sadomasochism elements as well. Slowly, we acquired BDSM knowledge and items, experimenting when we could. Although we played a few times with me in the dominant role, we both agreed that it was more fun and more exciting with Him as the Dominant; I was more than happy to be the submissive, even when He hurt me. By the end of our sophomore year, we had researched contracts, and then made it "official" that He was to be the Master and i was to be His slave; the contract - actually witnessed by a mutual friend who was also interested in BDSM play, and who subsequently joined us in play several times before graduating a year before us - was put into the safe deposit box along with all our important papers.

Now, after seven years of beautiful marriage, i am definitely in pain, accentuated by my Master's caresses. The ropes of those first nights have been replaced by leather cuffs and chains to attach me to the bedposts, while a heavy rope wraps my torso and limbs in intricate patterns. Though blindfolded, i do not need the use of my eyes to know how reddened my body has become after the lengthy and severe whipping, which i thoroughly deserve. My breasts in particular, by far His favorite targets, feel as if they are ablaze, which is why i cry underneath the blindfold.

The reason for my severe punishment: i happened to find and then read what He calls His "bondage journal." Over the years, as play and punishment ideas came to Him, He had written them down in His bondage journal. i knew that He was keeping such a journal, but was surprised to find it buried in His desk when cleaning during the day. Curious, i had begun to read it... and He then returned home early from a lecture to find me furiously masturbating (my first offense) while reading His bondage journal (the second and greater offense).

Many of the ideas in the otherwise-mundane "blank book" are simply one- or two-line ideas my Master has had, jotting them down for quick reference later. But having read through just five of the nearly three hundred pages, i now definitely have more than enough to fill my imagination for months to come.

i only hope my Master will allow me to come in the months ahead. For now, His sandpaper-covered gloves are painfully extending my punishment.