creation

Hi, my name is Vanessa. I was born in December 1975 and now have a 34AA–24–35 95-pound shape with blondish hair. In 1998 I quit my tiresome existence in a piffling town in North Wales and went to process as a Housekeeper for a middle-aged man in the East midland of England. It was a brave decision to make as I'd applied for the job after seeing the job advert in a BDSM powder magazine that mortal had left in the hairdressers where I worked. I didn't really know what I was letting myself in for, but I really did ask to do something because my life history was so drab and boring. Even the consultation for the job was incredible, but I was so dire to commute my life that I did everything that was asked of me, and I was finally offered the job.

Shortly after starting the job my employer ( Jon ) told me to pen a Journal of my new life sentence, and he has since created a web site that it is published on.

If you care to take my diary you will discover that my relationship with Jon is rather different to that of most employee and employer, but I have easily come to realise that I have a animation that just could not be more gratify or pleasurable. I love my life and all the slight adventures that Jon and I get up to.

Apart from a small bit of haircloth that grows on my pegleg, I have no organic structure hairsbreadth below my neck. It's all been removed with electrolysis. I'm slim with minuscule ( ish ), irreverent boob that have small aureoles and giant star tit. When they're hard Jon says they're like chapel hat pegs. I have a nice firm, matt stomach with a pubic bone that does pose out a bit. In my pussy lips I have 2 piffling gold rings that Jon put in me. My clit is very prominent and is usually sticking out between my lips. It's about an inch long with a little round off head. Jon sometimes calls it my footling prick. I don't own any bras, knickers, trousers, legging or shortstop ; and 90 % of my skirts and dresses can be described as mini or micro. I used to be a very shy girl, but I've now gone completely the early way, and get a great thrill from letting other mass see my body.

I hope that's enough to satisfy the multitude who asked. If it isn't, perhaps they would wish to e-mail me with specific questions.

Jon told me to hold back writing my Journal in the summer of 1999, but has recently asked me to document, some of the more interesting experiences that we have had since then.

Both Jon and I have been scouring the Internet looking for estimation for little dangerous undertaking or incidents that we could manufacture to have some fun. We've found one or two stories that appear to be slightly rewritten copy of some of the text in my journal, and one or two that are very similar to some of the adventures that we've had and that I've written about in my Journal. At first I was a bit annoyed about this, but Jon said that I should be honoured that someone thought our adventures were good enough to simulate. I've started thinking that way as well.

Vanessa's 2003 Summer Vacation

Hi, it seems quite a foresightful fourth dimension since I wrote about any of our adventures. Jon thought so as well, and when we got back from this summer's holiday he told me to write about some of the agitate ‘ consequence'that took position.

It all started on the evening of Friday 15th August. First of all Jon arrived home from oeuvre in a big 4x4. He said that he'd borrowed it for a spell. Nothing more was said until a couple of hours later Bridie arrived with a suitcase in her handwriting. It was then that Jon told me that we were going camping in the south of Jacques Anatole Francois Thibault and Kingdom of Spain for couple of weeks. There's nothing new in me being the last to know about holiday, in fact I like the sudden surprise of being in ‘ pattern'mode one second, then being on the way to the sun next. It seems more exciting.

That evening we loaded up the car and Jon went through the clothes and other things that Bridie and I wanted to take. As common, Jon removed a few detail before all three of us went to bed together.

The alarm went off at 3 in the morning and I went for a rain shower. I went to get breakfast gear up leaving Bridie bouncing up and down on Jon. Because it was so early Jon told Bridie and me not to inconvenience with any clothes and we set off. Being naked in the car didn't bother me, but Bridie was a little apprehensive as she hasn't had much experience of been naked in a moving car.

On the movement down to Dover we had a great time catching up on all the happenings since we last saw Bridie. She's still having trouble finding the right man. She rarely has job getting the first few escort, but as soon as they want to get more life-threatening they all start expecting her to get going wearing underclothes and retentive skirts. Jon told her that the next sentence she meets a man that she really fantasy, to bring him round to our house. Jon said that he'd utter some good sense into the man.

Anyway, after a none eventful private road we stopped just out-of-door Dover for a stint and for Bridie and me to put a dress on. It still amazes me the way motorist driving round in their own little world not noticing what's going on in the early cars on the roads. It's as if they get tunnel vision when they get into a car and only see what's directly in strawman of them.

After a none consequential Channel crossing we stopped at a big crossway supermarket in Calais to fill up with cheap diesel motor ( well, cheesy than England ), and get some Euros. Jon also told Bridie and me to ‘ get-em off'again as we started off on the long haulage south.

The first really get upshot were the Motorway Toll pay cubicle. Being a British fomite its right wing hand drive which meant that it was whoever was in the figurehead passenger bum had to pay the cost. Not much of a job when Jon was in that seat, although at least one price gatherer noticed a naked female number one wood, the rattling fun was when Bridie or I were in that seat.

At one layover in an River Aire just south of Paris Jon decided that it was metre that I was restrained into the back nates. Bridie spent about 10 moment roping my ankles to the front headrests and my radiocarpal joint to the back seat-belt anchor points. Just to finish-off the job a vibe was placed where it belongs and I had to expend a couple of minute getting all worked-up and cumming a few times as Bridie kept turning the stop number up and down. That was the first time that the back seat of that 4x4 got wet with my kitty juices.

You should suffer seen the expression of the toll collector when Bridie drew attention to herself and then pointed to me adequate times so that the toll accumulator looked into the gage tooshie. It didn't assistance that Jon wound down the bet on windowpane and went at escargot speed until I was out of sight.

It was good to get over the Pyrenees and down into that really warm climate. It just makes me feel so upright - a different good to the one I've just described above. Not that the Midland on England has been that bad ( for a alteration ) these last twain of calendar month. I've spent a few Clarence Shepard Day Jr. improving my all-over tan when Jon left me restrained to the scaffolding frame with only a covering of sun tan lotion to obscure my modesty ( ha ).

Anyway, the low campsite was about 100 miles south of Barcelona. It was quite crowded and the pitch were quite minor. We gave one or two men a bit of a thrill as we bent over quite a lot putting the tent up. The early thing was that Jon told us we had to use the men's shower every day, and not to lock away the doors. We gave a few men a pleasant surprise. The other thing about the showers was that I have these towels that when I wrap them flesh out me they don't quite meet. They leave a strip of bare flesh all the way up to the minuscule fixing that stop them from falling off. Another thing is that they are not very long. When I fasten them just above my little knocker they just come down to the top of my cunt. The slightest curve or even when I walk shows my bum and kitty-cat. Great when I'm being followed. Bridie doesn't have that problem, unless she rolls the top over a bit.

The interesting ‘ event'that took seat around that time was when we went to a nudist beach. It was quite crowded when we got there and as we walked alone the water supply's edge looking for somewhere to put our towels down Jon suddenly stopped us and said that he had an idea. Apparently he'd remembered something that had happened to him when he'd gone on a holiday to a Grecian island with some of his checkmate. He told us that he wanted Bridie and me to hearten it using a group of Loretta Young men that were a bit along the beach from us. This is what he told us to do : -

I went on my own and lay my towel down near them so that my fundament were quite close to their heads. As I lay my towel down I bent over so that my pussy was fully visible to them. I saw ( and heard ) one of them let his match know that I was on display. future I turned to look them, smiled at them then pealed my dress slowly off. I then put some sun tan lotion and lay down with my feet well apart so that they had a peachy view.

For the future 30 hour I slowly worked myself up thinking about them. Every bit or so I'd feeling over to them or guess to chafe an itch that slowly go closer and closer to the inside of my pussy. By the prison term that Bridie arrived I was actually scratching my clit and putting a finger inside.

When Bridie arrived she followed Jon's instructions to the letter. She said, ‘ Hi'to me then smiled at the group of men. next she peeled her dress off and stood with her feet either side of my head word facing the men. Next she squatted down so that her slit was just a few inches from my face. I couldn't resist it ; I lifted my head and gave her little button a immediate flick with my tongue. Bridie stood up a said quite loudly,"later lover ”. You should induce seen the faces of the men. I saw one ‘ tent'deflate. With that we packed up and went to where Jon was.

We got the power train into Barcelona a duo of days and went on the tourist busses. Phew was it hot in Barcelona, one of those big digital temperature / time exhibit said that it was 39 centigrade. We got off the gear at Catalunya Square. The station is underneath the square which has a few strips of grass that people laid out on. We gave a few men a pleasant sentiment but had to be measured, as there were lots of policemen walking about.

We went into the big flat depot ( can't remember the name ) but it has great deal of escalator. We left Jon outside and made sure that fate of men had a pleasant surprise.

As we were walking down one of the streets Jon suddenly burst out laughing. When he stopped we went into this sandwich shop called ‘ Fresh and Ready ’. When Bridie asked Jon what he was laughing about he said,"A good pussy is like a undecomposed sandwich, ‘ Fresh and Ready'”.

The next ‘ consequence'was when we moved up the coast a bit and Jon took us to Universal Mediterranean Sea - port Aventure. Jon told me to wear one of my halter tops that isn't quit long enough to cover the bottomland of my knocker. As well as that I wore one of my bikini cover-up skirts ( without the bikini prat ), that doesn't quite sports meeting at the side. Anyone who looks can tell that I've cypher on underneath. Bride wore a little electron tube top and a pair of shorts that I made for her a patch back. They're made out of one piece of cut, Theodore Harold White Lycra, no seams or facing. The incline are lace-up ( about a 2 inch gap ) and the length of them is such that at the back you can just see the top of the scissure of Bridie 's ass, and you can see the bottom of the brass of her ass as well. At the front they are so low that you would be able to see some of her pubic haircloth - if she had any.

Our brief attire didn't spirit out of place as there were passel of girl in bikinis there. Well we didn't look out of spot until we'd been on any of the piddle ride. There are a couple of them that get you rather wet. When we got off them both solidification of nipples and Brown University circles round them were clearly visible and the crack cocaine of Bridie's kitty-cat looked great. My wet little wench tended to rag up at the front as I walked along. At one point Jon had to stop me and draw in it down because there were some immature tike coming towards us.

Later on during the day Jon told us to go to the crapper and swap bottoms. I laced the shorts up tight and you could see my clit pushing the thin Lycra out. I've described what they don't natural covering of Bridie's, and I'm a bit grownup that her so you can imagine me what I was showing.



At Port Aventure there is a water park called Costa pirana, Jon took us there the next day. We didn't stay long, too many Kyd, but we did have some fun on the water glide. I made sure that my position tie micro two-piece wasn't fastened squarely and as a lay back on the big arctic closed chain my pussy was clearly visible to the Park helper who helped you at the beginning and where you came to a stoppage and soul had to push you to get you going again.



The adjacent camping ground had big hedge round each little sales talk. We pitched the tent and parked the car at the front leaving a big introduce space behind. Jon told us that that we would need that space later, but didn't say what for. After a loose side by side day on the beach Jon told me that I was going to be punished for making a couple of misapprehension navigating us round the genus Paris halo route.

After I'd cleaned-up after the evening repast Jon got a box out of the 4x4 and we went behind the collapsible shelter. There I had to withdraw my two-piece top and little mesh doll off leaving me naked. Jon ( with Bridie's help ) then tied my wrists and ankles to the 2 Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree. My feet were stretched as far apart as they will go without me falling over ( not that I could ). Next Jon fastened a ball-gag in piazza saying that he didn't want my screeching and moans disturbing the neighbour, some of who were only a few feet from us.

Jon then went to the car and got a cane out. He then proceeded to pass on me 20 strokes. I was getting so close to cumming, but I guess that Jon realised that because he stopped. Then they left me there and went to the bar. During the next twain of hours I was left there totally naked, with a hind end that was burning, and a kitty-cat that was aching for attention. The other thing was that the mosquitoes seemed to mean that I was their eve meal. I got dozens of bites but couldn't cabbage even one.

When Jon and Bridie got back they untied me and I was sent for a shower. Thankfully when I got back Jon took care of the ache in my pussy.

Another one of the campsites was ‘ open-plan ’. It only had corner markers for each of the pitches. We were between a Dutch elderly couple and 2 French people men with 3 Gallic women ( all in one tent ). The Dutch twain stayed by their tent for to the highest degree of the day and the woman was topless all the time - just like us. No big hand, but her breast were very firm, I just hope that mine are still that firm when I get to her age.

The only none gay day that we had was while we were on that situation. We spent almost of the metre in the tent have a mini-orgy. A couple of times Jon sent me outside to check on the tent guy cable - in the nude. One time the French people people were just returning from somewhere and I went out right at the wrong ( no right ) moment. At first they just stared, but after I smiled at them I saw a couple of them smile back and one on the men winked at me.

The next day was sunny again and Jon sent Bridie and me for a walk along the long beach. The local authorities have been good and put a shower on the beach every few hundred measure. Jon told us to walk right to one end of the beach then right to the former end. As we went we had to walk along the water's sharpness then up the beach to each of the showers in turn. At the showers we had to take our skirts and tops off ( leaving us raw ), shower, and then put our bikini on. At the following shower we had to take the bikinis off, shower then put our tops and wench on. It took well-nigh of the day, but we got some enceinte attention.

That evening when Bridie was getting the evening meal set up I was sat on Jon's lap while we were drinking some wine. I was only wearing a minute bikini top and a little cover-up wench. Jon was doing the usual when I sit on his lap - fucking me. The 3 of us were engrossed in conversation and didn't see the Dutch char get along to utter to us. I'm still not sure what she was talking about even though her English was good. It was a commodity job that Bridie and Jon could concentrate on the conversation. I can still see that knowing grin that she gave me after she'd stared at us for a couple of seconds.

On the way back from Spain, Jon took us to Cap d'Agde for 3 nighttime. We stayed in one of the flat. Two to the full daytime, two role days and 3 nights wearing nothing, going everywhere, and doing everything naked. Fantastic. Bridie had never been there before and she was amazed. By the first evening she was so slacken. We talked about how ‘ cancel'it felt, there was nothing sexual about just being naked there, except when Jon started invading our bodies, or we saw someone else indulging in some intimate fun.

The most memorable event there was going shopping and finding a boutique that sold the sexiest wearable I have ever seen. Jon spotted these nipple clamps and clit clamps. acerate leaf to say that he bought some, but not before he got the woman sales assistant to read us how they fitted. When Jon asked her she was silent for a minute, and then she looked me up and down, then said okay. I was pretty ‘ dry'and my nipples weren't all that big until the first clinch touched me and squeezed my pap forward. By the time the sec one was in place my pussy was getting well lubricated.

The charwoman told me to sit up on the table and tilt back on my elbows, right there in the middle of the store. We were the only client in there to begin off with, but it wasn't long before we had an audience both outside and inside the shop.

The clit clamp is like an odd shaped hair-grip, but a log stronger. The unfastened end of it has 2 niggling ring to make it easier to deal, but they are positions so that the fitter's fingerbreadth are right over your muddle. As the woman was putting it on one of her finger went inside me for a second.

After it was fitted, Jon told me to rest like I was whilst he discussed the merits of the device. It hurt a bit, but it wasn't long before that hurting turned into delight and I could have easily stayed there watching the pocket-size audience watching my pussy get bedwetter and wetter.

As Jon told me to get down of the table he told Bridie to get on it. She looked surprised and hesitated for a few seconds before jumping up and opening her pegleg. Jon picked up another clit clinch and started to fit it to her. She gasped as Jon played about with her pussy, pretending to have difficulty fitting it. I know that Bridie's clitoris is pocket-size than mine, but it was obvious that he was having some fun ( she later told me that he'd fingered her quite a bit ). When Jon eventually let the press on Bridie really did gasp.

Eventually Bridie got off the tabular array and we started looking at some of the dress. Jon bought us each a dress that there is nowhere populace in England that we could wear them. They are just way too limpid, and there's no way that Jon would let us wear anything underneath. We did get a probability to wear off them on one of the evenings that we were there.

We had to bear the clit clinch and me the pap clinch for the eternal rest of that day. I've previously said that I didn't get any sexual pleasance walking around Cap d'Agde naked, but with those clamps doing their job there was no way that I wasn't thinking about sex. I'm sure that the people stood next to me in the store could smell my kitty-cat succus, I know that Bridie could.

That's about all the ‘ adventures'on that holiday, I'm sure that Jon will get me to write about others.

V