Introduction

Hi, my public figure is Vanessa. I was born in December 1975 and now have a 34AA–24–35 95-pound figure with blondish hairsbreadth. In 1998 I quit my tiresome creation in a little town in compass north Wales and went to work as a Housekeeper for a middle-aged man in the East Midlands of England. It was a unfearing decision to make as I'd applied for the job after seeing the job advert in a BDSM cartridge holder that individual had left in the hairstylist where I worked. I didn't really sleep together what I was letting myself in for, but I really did need to do something because my life-time was so dreary and drilling. Even the audience for the job was unbelievable, but I was so desperate to modify 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, and he has since created a web site that it is published on.

If you care to translate my daybook you will name that my relationship with Jon is rather dissimilar to that of almost employee and employer, but I have easily come to actualise that I have a sprightliness that just could not be more satisfying or enjoyable. I love my life and all the piffling adventures that Jon and I get up to.

Apart from a little bit of haircloth that grows on my peg, I have no body hair's-breadth below my neck. It's all been removed with electrolysis. I'm slim with pocket-sized ( ish ), impertinent titty that have small corona and elephantine nipples. When they're firmly Jon says they're like chapel hat stick. I have a nice firm, flat breadbasket with a pubic bone that does flummox out a bit. In my pussy brim I have 2 little gold hoop 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 polish head. Jon sometimes calls it my picayune dick. I don't own any bras, knickers, trousers, leging or shorts ; and 90 % of my skirt and dresses can be described as mini or micro. I used to be a very shy girl, but I've now gone completely the other way, and get a great thrill from letting other people see my body.

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

Jon told me to stop writing my daybook in the summertime 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 melodic theme for little adventure or incidents that we could manufacture to bear some fun. We've found one or two news report that appear to be slightly rewritten copy of some of the text in my diary, 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 Journal. At first I was a bit roiled about this, but Jon said that I should be honoured that someone thought our risky venture were honorable enough to replicate. 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 much time off, so I quit.

I was getting a bit bored at the end of last twelvemonth, and after discussing it with Jon I signed-on for a Temp agency. I didn't do many business for them before quitting, but there were a couple that are Charles Frederick Worth telling you about.

The first was a business firm of Solicitors. It was only small with 3 characterise Solicitors and a couplet of repository. One of these was off sick and they needed someone for a couple of hebdomad to search after visitors and do the filing. The house was founded by the old man Solicitor and the other 2 Solicitors are cleaning woman in their mid-thirties, both well over weight.

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

When I got there I found that the office is up some stair right in the middle of town, and the receptionist's desk is rightfulness 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 fille that was off sick usually wore trouser and pointed to the nominal head of the desk. No modesty board. I told her that I didn't have any suitable pant, which is almost true - I don't have any trousers. She just said,"Oh well, I'm sure you'll manage."I smiled and thought, ‘ you bet, this could be fun.'

I spent about of the low match of days getting used to the telephone set organisation before I managed to relax and start to throw some fun.

Each metre I heard the threshold at the bottom of the stairs open I'd get back to my desk and pilfer a expression to see who it was. If it were a man I'd let my stifle part and watch their eyes to see if they looked. If it was a hunky man and he looked, I'd let my human knee drift even further apart.

After I'd phoned whoever to separate them that their visitant was there, I'd ask the visitor to sit in the waiting area that was in front of my desk, but to a rebuff angle. It's get how the men would always sit on the seat that had the best view up my skirt. I made sure that some of them really go distracted from their line there.

There are some filing cabinet just near the visitor tail end and I made indisputable that I always had some papers that needed to be filed in the bottom cabinet.

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

His office is one of these ‘ old globe'places with bookcases all up the paries with a picayune pace ladder to get up to them. After a couple of days he started asking me to get the books that he wanted that were richly up. I smiled the first 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 week he was either a lot vernal, or about to snuffle if with over-excitement.

The two female Solicitors were miserable affair. I'm sure that they realised what was going on, but they never said anything, just gave me lots of employment to do. The other secretaire always wore recollective skirts or pant and never seemed to want to get into conversation. I caught her staring at me a couple of clock time, and it was a good job that her desk faced away from the visitor's waiting field.

At the end of my time there the old man thanked me for brightening the station up, and said that he wished that he could observe me on longer.



The second interest Temp job that I did was a week in cafeteria in a big workshop. It wasn't the job that was interesting ( it was turd ), it was what Jon was doing to me whilst I worked. A shortstop while after I told Jon what I was going to do he told me that I had to hold out my remote control controlled egg every day.

The first morning went quite quickly, but at lunchtime, just as I was in the center of serving an old lady, the egg got switched on. I was in mid-sentence when I suddenly gasped, bent over slightly and started shaking. After a few seconds I managed to compose myself enough to calculate troll for Jon. As I was looking the little old lady asked me if I was alright.

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

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

As I came the first time, one of the early daughter asked me if I was okay. What could I say,"Yes thank you, I'm just in the center of having an orgasm, and I'll be back to normal in a mo !"

After about an hour the egg got turned down to low and stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon. Twice during that metre I had to go to the pot to dry myself.

The same thing happened for the next 3 days. I never saw Jon once, and he denied being there when I asked him about it on an eventide.

The finale 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 time trying to centre and to face pattern. I haven't a clue what the customer must have got thought. I know that some of the staff thought I was ill.

There was one girl who I think suspected what was going on, each time our optic met she smiled at me with that knowing look.

The egg stayed on full for about another 60 minutes, it was agony and outstanding all at the same time. In the end, I looked up at the next client and Jon smiled and asked me for a stewed 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 tiffin and left.

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

love,

Vanessa