Levels of Wet

I've noticed I tend to make a mess. From squirting to just plain old getting horny and wet. I'm sure certain things affect this, like hydration, teasing, time elapsed, etc.

What I don't get is how sometimes I can get really really wet and barely cum at all. Other times I can wonder what the hell's wrong why am I not getting turned on and that's when the mother of all orgasms hits.

Now, I'd just shrug it off as varying states of hydration, but I don't really change how much or how little I'm drinking on a day to day basis. I drink my big jug of water almost empty every day, and the days I don't I don't leave much in the silly thing at all. So it can't really be that big of a difference I wouldn't think.

Maybe there's really no direct connection between the two. Juices produced vs. amount of horniness felt. I'd say "This calls for experimentation!" But honestly, I'm in no real position to keep track of that sort of thing. 9 times out of 10 I kinda lose my head and roll right on into la-la land. And I Like la-la land, so I don't want to specifically drag myself out of it just to keep track of something like this.

Maybe it has something to do with how much or little penetration... though that can't be it. Unless dildos and cocks are juice absorbent and it just seems like I'm wet enough to be frothy before anything goes in and then nearly dry when things come out.

Again, "This calls for experimentation!"

Fantasies

Everyday I masturbate 2 times. At the least. Generally before I go to bed, and before I go to work (I work the night shift). One's to help me sleep, the other's to help relax me before work takes over. I'd say it's almost mechanical, as it's more for the release than anything else. But the nice part about it are the fantasies, the little mini stories that give me nice ideas to relay to Master.

Like, being in a truck yard and being led around by a leash until we find a suitable trucker for me to service. Having the man bend me over right in the lot and take me while Master watches, whispering little orders, enjoying as I get closer and closer and finally telling me to cum so the poor trucker can experience what it's like when a woman orgasms.

Or being tied up in front of a bunch of people, with another little sub between my legs, eating me out with a tongue vibrator and trying to push me over the edge while I try my best not to cum in front of everyone.

Or being bent over and tied to a horse, red ass in the air, toys purring away, listening to Master call me a good girl as his cock slowly sinks into my ass, filling me up as I'm covered in lash marks and toys.

So... yeah, I have good fantasies ^_^

I can has a twitter~

So, I realized there's some things that come to my mind that I'd love to get off my chest and share. But I can't on my main twitter account cause half the people that follow me would go up the wall ape-shit to find out I'm not a proper vanilla girl.

If you -want-, you can follow me @TiedUpPet ^_^

Time vs. Inclination

I love to write, and I've got enough time to do at least a little bit of it every day. I go through these bouts though of not having the inclination. Now, sometimes there's just too much stuff on my mind, whether it be concerns about work, family, etc. Sometimes I just plain don't feel like writing (typing), and actually managing to do so becomes a huge pain in the ass.

The problem is I've got a LOT of writing I want to do. Completing my 3rd novel, working on starting a new series, short stories for her, etc etc. I don't know if I need to manage my time better, or if I need a stronger motivation. I've always been self-driven when it comes to writing, but this blog (one that has a posting schedule set by my Master) certainly sees a LOT more love than the one I have for my novels and the characters.

Does this mean I crave the kind of D/s relationship we have in the bedroom in other aspects as well? Would being told to write on certain days during certain times "or else" really be something that would spur on my abilities? Or would the natural ebb of how I write just end up causing writer's block in that time frame? Do I even have the right to expect my Master to take on such a responsibility for me, a full grown and fully capable adult?

I do know that my impending move has taken a lot of my mind-wandering Oh-I-should-write-that-down kind of creativeness away, but honestly moving from Ohio to Arizona is a big freakin' move. Being distracted by it is only natural.

Should a D/s relationship be totally inclusive though? Should I turn myself over to my Master that fully to begin with? I mean, nevermind I don't think he wants that kind of relationship anyway, but it makes my mind reel. I don't have a problem handing things over in the bedroom - so to speak - but when it comes to just about everything else, the road's equality, not subservience.

Either way, tomorrow I'm going to try to post about some of the fantasies I've been having lately. I don't know whether or not to blame Master or my own apparently repressed desires, but goodness more and more they've included complete strangers >.>

Well there goes that

I had this great train of thought for a halfway decent post about something that would have totally been interesting to someone I'm sure.

Instead I went to the movies with my mom and a couple of her friends (Safe House, I liked it, but mom thought it was too slow) and the side-show that came with the movie has since derailed my train of thought.

I'm an open minded person. I am. I don't even care about semi-inappropriate displays of affection. It's 2012, most people don't even pay attention to that crap anymore. Except.

My mom.

And it wouldn't have been so bad I don't think, if said couple had been - in some capacity at the least - an actual couple. Instead it was a 40+ year old man and a 18ish year old boy making all sorts of petting and coziness in the corner.

And this is just the information I managed to hear second hand that I didn't even WANT to hear. My mom's pretty open to about anything, so when something was causing her to spazz out I was more than happy to go on being blissfully ignorant about the entire situation.

But she wouldn't stop talking about it, and I ended up with Waaaaaaaay more information than I wanted. And now I can't really think about anything else with any kind of clarity to be able to write about it.

Honestly though, it felt good to get that off my chest. I'll keep physical descriptions of said oddball couple to myself - it just makes it worse.

Squirting

So, one of the highlights of Master's vacationing out here with me was the fact that he finally got me to make a not-so-confined mess. We'd been reading about, and talking about, the concept of squirting, or female ejaculation - whichever you prefer.

I was under a couple of assumptions - one that it wasn't something anyone could do, and secondly that it wasn't something *I* could do.

As far as I can tell now, neither one of these is true. Being a long-distance contender might not be something everyone is capable of, but actually managing to make a watery mess is entirely possible.

A couple things to keep in mind is to go to the bathroom first and grab a towel. One, for a woman it's kind of a healthy practice to get into before and after sex anyway. Helps avoid most all infections. Two, you're not going to worry about pissing yourself if you've already gone, because that's kind of what it feels like when that orgasm is building up inside you.

The towel is to help protect the bed, chair, etc. Whatever you're using at that point. I don't recommend trying to stand through it.

Master got an attachment for our wand and the curved one worked beautifully. The hardest part of the entire scene was actually letting the orgasm hit me, I kept worrying I really was going to just pee everywhere. After a certain point though, I really didn't care, and the orgasm that hit was fantastic.

An orgasm from your clit feels really good. I'll never argue this point. But one from your G-spot is an experience all on its own. The sensation of that vibrator moving back and forth across that nerve-packed part of your pussy is enough to get you to start speaking in tongues. I'd say being tied down tautly is probably the best thing safety wise.

Since then I've been a little messier with my orgasms all around. There's a weird sense of feeling like I'm going to squirt even though I don't have a way to hit my g-spot without Master around. Not that I'd want to anyway, the orgasm is intense enough I'd rather have him there to not only enjoy watching his pet scream and trash in pleasure - but also because if I do passout I don't want to be alone when it happens ^^;

Collared

I can't say for how long I've wanted a collar. The feel of rope, the need for domination, the desire to submit - all these things have been a part of who I am for ages, but the want to be collared was relatively new. It was, in its own way, symbolic. A physical manifestation of the term Master, and of slave.

I was beyond happy to wear the gift, and Master, I think, was happy to have me wear it.

The evening started out with a body stocking - an article of clothing I'm quickly becoming attached to. They're snug and restrictive in a way without being uncomfortable in the slightest, and they don't really cover -anything-, so much as give the illusion of clothing. I'd never worn one for Master before, but I'd had an idea that they'd be well received. I'd also bought more than we ended up using, but they'll get their turn before long I'm sure.

The only thing more enjoyable than the feel of rope against my skin are Master's hands. From the sharp sting of a slap to the gently maddening caress, they're quite capable of anything. I did my best not to get too emotional as the collar was buckled on. I'd helped design it, and really enjoyed the feel of it all around - I couldn't even bring myself to speak for the first few moments, choking on my thanks and biting back tears.

I never wanted to take it back off.

Master's work began after that. Cuffs and rope, blindfold and bondage tape. Sliding his pet onto her back he went to work - tying my hands near the collar, taping my legs to themselves and obliterating my sense of sight. Like the good little horny pet I am, I was horribly wet before he'd even finished. The ropes that kept my wrists near my neck also looped down and gave my feet something to struggle against. It was delightfully restrictive, and yet loose enough that I could squirm as I moaned in anticipation and pleasure.

All the feelings slipped into one another, and I don't remember if that was the night I had to withstand the nipple clamps, or if that came later. In all honesty, to me, it doesn't much matter. I'd earned time with the clamps and I knew it was coming, like it or not, but the slightest caress, the lightest touch from my Master makes so many things bearable.

Whenever the clamps happened, I remember very clearly when they came off. The warning, the steady voice of Master telling me to take a deep breath, and that breath turning into a gasping scream as the blood rushed back into the sensitive bits of flesh.  I don't like the feel of the clamps - the pain is a little too sharp, but I have to admit, I've spent days remembering that moment that they came off. The rush, the warning, the tone in his voice, the fear, the near orgasmic rush I was helpless to stop.

I don't like clamps, but sweet mother of mary I can, at the very least, understand why there's people that do enjoy them.

Grumble snap snarl

So, my memory sucks. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this at least a couple times before now. I even wrote down a small list of the highlights of what happened while Master was here visiting. I've ever intention of going over them at some point.

But, when he left at first I wasn't really down in the dumps, so much as I just didn't want to think about what had happened. I didn't want the memories to exacerbate the fact that I missed him so much. And then there's this week - where I'm on my period, grumbly, moody, and just in an all around crap ass mood.

However, it kind of works out, because out of the entire vacation there was one thing that was bugging me, and this is a good time to get it out of my system.

Anal.

I've done it before, years ago granted, and I've successfully gotten this delightful vibrating toy to go just about all the way in on my own many many times. But I swear every time we tried to do something while he was here it was woefully unsuccessful. Maybe it was the circumstance, or the mood at the time, given I'd always worked the toy in before getting worked up.

All the ifs, buts, maybes, and whatnots though, aren't really lessening the fact that it feels like I was reason for the "woeful" failures. At the same time though, a lot of that feeling and sentiment right now is just hormonal imbalance, and I'm sure it'll even out over another couple of days. I suppose I shouldn't complain though, if that's the only thing that went sour during the entire vacation then by all means it was a huge success, and of course Master doesn't blame me for a bit of it.

I just can't wait to move, I want the ups and downs of day to day life, not the ups and downs of getting to see someone for a week every 3-4 months. XD It'll certainly make blogging and such much easier to do on schedule.

Rope Dress

The first day Master got in we had planned to kind of take things easy. His flight was long, he'd been early, etc.

This isn't the way things went.

We ended up going out to dinner with my mom. Aside from getting to spend a week with each other, him meeting the majority of my family was pretty much the reason for him to come to a cold wet state instead of me going down to a nice warm dry one.

Before dinner however, Master offered to put me in a rope dress. Sure, I agreed, I'd actually worn a turtle neck sweater specifically to be able to help hide anything he might chose to do to me before we had to leave. From the moment the rope hit my skin I was fighting to maintain control. It was a bit snug when he was done, and maybe a little too snug. I enjoy the restrained feeling, but it wasn't until about halfway through dinner that I realized it was just a tad too uncomfortable.

What Master added to the rope dress that wasn't helping me was a small knot. In the single most sensitive place, I'd stand up, sit down, or walk, and I could feel that devious little knot slipping along what was already a very wet slit and clit.

Dinner went well, I managed to focus on the food, and until the conversation moved to sports I was focusing on that fairly well too. We had planned to make one more stop before going back to the hotel, but at that point I needed to get out of the rope dress, it was getting close to get me out of it now, and I didn't want to have to cut it if we could avoid it. (Granted, I wasn't going to let it harm me just to keep the silly rope intact. )

While I wasn't too surprised at how wet I'd gotten the rope when we finally did get it off, but Master commented on it just enough to make me blush.

Sadly, the rest of the night is a blur. I didn't get much sleep before his flight came in, and I'd been on edge for an entire week before that. My body and mind were gone enough that no matter how many times I try to play that night over in my mind, I just simply can't remember what else happened.

I do remember that the bed sucked horribly, and I didn't sleep well that night either, but we worked those kinks out easily enough the next night ^_^