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Hi, my name is Vanessa. I was born in Dec 1975 and now have a 34AA–24–35 95-pound figure with blondish pilus. In 1998 I quit my irksome existence in a footling townspeople in North Wales and went to act upon as a Housekeeper for a middle-aged man in the east Midlands of England. It was a brave determination to micturate as I'd applied for the job after seeing the job advert in a BDSM magazine that somebody had left in the hairstylist where I worked. I didn't really acknowledge what I was letting myself in for, but I really did necessitate to do something because my aliveness was so olive-drab and oil production. Even the interview for the job was unbelievable, but I was so dire to interchange 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 write a daybook of my new life, and he has since created a web web site that it is published on.

If you care to scan my Journal you will pick up 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 life that just could not be more satisfying or pleasurable. I love my life and all the lilliputian escapade that Jon and I get up to.

Apart from a little bit of hair that grows on my ramification, I have no body tomentum below my neck. It's all been removed with electrolysis. I'm slim with small ( ish ), pert breasts that have small aureoles and giant nipples. When they're operose Jon says they're like chapel hat nog. I have a nice firm, categorical stomach with a pubic bone that does stick out a bit. In my pussy lips I have 2 piffling amber closed chain that Jon put in me. My button is very big and is usually sticking out between my lips. It's about an inch long with a slight labialise fountainhead. Jon sometimes calls it my little pecker. I don't own any bras, knee pants, pant, leggings or short pants ; 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 hoi polloi see my body.

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

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

Both Jon and I have been scouring the cyberspace looking for theme for little adventures or incidents that we could make up to have some fun. We've found one or two stories that appear to be slightly rewritten copies of some of the text in my journal, and one or two that are very similar to some of the risky venture that we've had and that I've written about in my daybook. At world-class I was a bit annoyed about this, but Jon said that I should be honoured that individual thought our adventures were good enough to copy. I've started thinking that way as well.

Temping

I left my hairdressing job a while back. The management were getting a bit fed-up with me taking so very much time off, so I quit.

I was getting a bit bored at the end of hold out year, and after discussing it with Jon I signed-on for a Temp Agency. I didn't do many jobs for them before quitting, but there were a couple that are worth telling you about.

The first off was a firm of Solicitors. It was only small with 3 qualified Solicitors and a couple of secretary. One of these was off queasy and they needed someone for a couple of weeks to look after visitors and do the filing. The firm was founded by the old man solicitor and the other 2 Solicitors are cleaning lady in their mid-thirties, both well over weight.

The bureau told me that I would get to dress smartly so the weekend before I started I made a couple of dame that are to mid-thigh - long for me. Jon made sure that they had slits up the back and front. I wore them with rather modest baggy blouses that tucked into the doll.

When I got there I found that the office is up some stairs right in the midsection of town, and the receptionist's desk is ripe at the top of the stairs. After I'd been introduced to everyone the Secretary showed me to my desk and told me that the girl that was off sick usually wore trousers and pointed to the front of the desk. No modesty board. I told her that I didn't have any worthy pant, which is almost confessedly - I don't have any trouser. She just said,"Oh well, I'm sure you'll manage."I smiled and thought, ‘ you bet, this could be fun.'

I spent most of the first mates of days getting used to the telephone system before I managed to relax and start to have some fun.

Each metre I heard the door at the bottom of the stairs open I'd get back to my desk and sneak a look to see who it was. If it were a man I'd let my knees part and watch their eyes to see if they looked. If it was a hunky man and he looked, I'd let my stifle roll even further apart.

After I'd phoned whoever to secern them that their visitant was there, I'd ask the visitors to sit in the waiting expanse that was in front end of my desk, but to a svelte angle. It's amazing how the men would always sit on the seat that had the best scene up my annulus. I made sure that some of them really go distracted from their business there.

There are some filing console just near the visitor seat and I made sure that I always had some document that needed to be filed in the fundament cabinet.

My obligation took me into the old man Solicitor's office quite a bit. When I handed him document to contract I made sure that I bent forward so that he could front down the top of my blouse.

His office is one of these ‘ old cosmos'topographic point with bookcases all up the wall with a minuscule step run to get up to them. After a match of sidereal day he started asking me to get the script that he wanted that were high up. I smiled the foremost time that he asked me as I knew exactly why he asked me ; and I wasn't going to disappoint him. By the end of the two weeks he was either a lot younger, or about to snuff if with over-excitement.

The two female person Solicitors were miserable things. I'm sure that they realised what was going on, but they never said anything, just gave me portion of work to do. The other Secretary always wore prospicient chick or pant and never seemed to want to get into conversation. I caught her staring at me a couple of times, and it was a right job that her desk faced away from the visitor's waiting arena.

At the end of my metre there the old man thanked me for brightening the space up, and said that he wished that he could keep me on longer.



The second gear interesting Temp job that I did was a hebdomad in cafeteria in a big shop. It wasn't the job that was interesting ( it was crap ), it was what Jon was doing to me whilst I worked. A short while after I told Jon what I was going to do he narrate me that I had to wear my remote controlled egg every day.

The first cockcrow went quite quickly, but at lunch period, just as I was in the midsection of serving an old lady, the egg got switched on. I was in mid-sentence when I suddenly gasped, bent-grass over slightly and started shaking. After a few minute I managed to compose myself enough to depend round for Jon. As I was looking the little old ma'am asked me if I was alright.

The egg was on low so I managed to remain serving client while I looked round for Jon. I couldn't see him anywhere.

About 15 transactions later the pace of the palpitation increased and I still couldn't see Jon. Then it got higher. I was in unplayful danger on cumming while serving a customer. I was starting to sweat and kept pulling a face and stifling a screech.

As I came the first prison term, one of the early young lady asked me if I was okay. What could I say,"Yes thank you, I'm just in the midsection of having an coming, and I'll be back to rule in a minute !"

After about an minute the egg got turned down to low and stayed like that for the respite of the afternoon. Twice during that time I had to go to the privy to dry myself.

The Lapp affair happened for the next 3 twenty-four hours. I never saw Jon once, and he denied being there when I asked him about it on an eventide.

The last day started the same, but half way through the lunchtime, just as I was building up to my second orgasm, the egg went on to full. I had a really difficult sentence trying to concentrate and to look formula. I haven't a clue what the customers must have thought. I know that some of the faculty thought I was ill.

There was one young lady who I think suspected what was going on, each meter our eyes met she smiled at me with that knowing look.

The egg stayed on broad for about another hour, it was agony and great all at the same time. In the end, I looked up at the next client and Jon smiled and asked me for a boiled egg sandwich. Then he asked me if I was all right, as I looked all flustered. He left the egg on full until he'd finished his lunch and left.

Jon's told me that I can do some more Temping occupation if I want, I'll go into the representation every so often and see what they've got.

dearest,

Vanessa