Ch. 1 - Britney Cleans Up
I want to explain how this lifestyle came about, but because it is so unusual, I'll try to keep it brief.
I'm a 33 yrs old Englishman who spent most of his early years in low-paid dead-end jobs but at the age of 29, I inherited a significant sum of money.
I decided to retire.
Although the money was not enough to make me rich, it was enough to make me financially independent and after spending some of my inheritance travelling around the world, I decided to put the rest into savings.
I found myself a small village in New Guinea and decided that I would live there for a few months until I decided how I would chose to spend the rest of my life.
It seemed to me like a nice quiet corner of the Earth to find a bit of peace and the locals were friendly and led simplistic lives.
Now let me make this clear.
New Guinea is still a remote mysterious place, even today, and what I didn't realise at the time was that the very place I had chosen to live was a also a secret haven for wealthy westerners to find solace from the pressures of their responsibilities.
In fact, it was so secret, that even major celebrities would appear from time to time, safe in the knowledge that not even the intrusive media or the opportunist paparazzi would disturb them whilst staying here.
In short, it was one of the best kept secrets in the world of show-business, so secret in fact that not even the highest moguls in Hollywood were aware of it.
My first experience that I would like to tell you about was the day that a young famous pop-star appeared in my village and how she became the catalyst that caused me stay in the village for longer than I had intended.
I remember the day well.
It was during the wet season and the air was thick and humid. We only had a few hours of sunshine because of the cloud cover, but there had been enough sun for me to maintain my new tan.
There was talk in the village because a new arrival from the U.S.A had just turned up complete with an entourage of around eight people.
All I knew at that time was that the guest in question was female and that she was a big star in the west but hardly anyone in the village had heard of her.
She didn't appear happy to come here, but she had been advised to come so that she could take a break from the stress of her life.
It was supposed to be a sort of therapy for her and give her a break from drugs.
Although she had her own hut to stay in, (it was comfortable enough) by her own affluent standards, it was a little primitive for her tastes.
Although she would be comfortable during her stay here, she wasn't pleased about having to give up her modern luxuries. I had the displeasure (or maybe pleasure) of meeting her on the second afternoon after she had arrived.
Now, it is a custom in my village that all residents must do their share of the chores.
Foreign guests were exempt from this rule, but new residents were not.
Although I was British, I had to chip in the same as everyone else. As a new man in town, I was given the dirtiest of jobs. It was my filthy honour to look after the village toilets which consisted of three wooden-huts with holes in the ground.
I didn't mind this because I only had to do the job two days a week. The rest of the time, I did as I pleased.
On the particular afternoon in question I was in one of the huts sweeping the floor when the door opened and in walked a young lady.
My first reaction was to stop what I was doing and see who had entered. It would have been rude to continue in case the person who had just come in needed me to leave. They may have required some privacy.
When I saw who just walked through the door, I realised that I had just set eyes on one of our foreign guests.
I was looking at a white woman.
I could tell that she was a tourist because she was wearing shorts, tee-shirt and a baseball cap. There was enough jewellery on her fingers to make me realise that she was not short of money.
She didn't appear to notice me at first but after a few seconds she did (much to her surprise).
I guessed that she was drunk. She did not appear to be pleased to see me.
"What the fuck?" she squealed.
"I'm sorry," I stammered, "I was just cleaning in here. I didn't expect anyone to come in."
"Yeah, well, I'VE just come in," she said as she glared at me.She could not focus straight and her eyes rolled as she spoke.
"Well, if you like, I'll go away and leave you in peace," I replied.
"Yes, you do that," she answered, but then she took another look at me.
"Hey you're not a native," she slurred, "you're a white man."
I decided to take a good look at her. She was quite attractive in a slutty sort of way. She wore her shorts high on her big muscular thighs and I noticed that she had fairly large breasts. She obviously had no bra beneath her very loose t-shirt because I could faintly make out the outline of her large nipples.
"Are you looking at me?" she asked, "Are you fucking getting an eyeful of me?"
She seemed familiar but I could not place her face.
"I'm sorry," I spluttered, "but I think that I have seen you before."
She laughed at my words.
"Too right," she answered, "you must know who I am!"
I still wasn't sure, so I said nothing.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Tom," I answered.
"Well, Tom," she replied, rolling her eyes again, "do you mind leaving? I have to use this fucking hell hole and I need my privacy."
She leaned forward as he spoke to me and I managed to get a look down her loose t-shirt. Her left areola came into view.
It was so goddamn close to a nipple slip that I froze, and my eyes became firmly fixed on her ample chest.
"You looking again?" she snapped.
"Sorry," I said, "I'm just leaving."
"Get out then," she snarled, but this time I caught a glance at the whole nipple as she swung her arm.
When she saw me looking, she giggled.
"Stop looking at me, you rude man."
I could tell that she was used to being in the public eye and however much annoyed she was by being stared at, she was also secretly pleased by it too.
She asked me to leave the hut but ordered me to wait outside for her.
I left the mud-house and on her instructions I waited near the door. She told me that she would call me when she had finished. She wanted escorting back to her hut and wanted me to undertake this task.
I had only waited two minutes when I heard her scream from inside.
I opened the door and went back in. She was crouching over the hole with her shorts and panties around her ankles. She quickly pulled her panties up but her shorts remained close to her feet.
She was scowling with frustration and pointed downwards at her shorts.
"They are so fucking dirty," she squealed, "don't these people have proper bathrooms? I'm covered with crap."
I looked down at her shorts. They were stained with mud (and God knows what else). She stood up, staggered slightly, and then she bent down again and completely removed her shorts. She was now standing in t-shirt, trainers and panties. I took her shorts from her, being careful to hold them at arms length.
She glared at me again.
I threw the shorts onto the ground.
"Take me back to my hut," she commanded. "I'm Britney Spears and I shouldn't have to put up with this!"
Now I realised! I knew that I had seen her before.
I looked at her again. She was a little bit fat but she didn't look as bad as she did when I last saw her in a magazine.
She wasn't as good as she looked as a teenager either but I figured that having lost a little weight, she was somewhere on her way to being beautiful Britney again.
I walked her back to her hut.
Like most of the huts in the village it was a tree-hut.