Blog of sissy maid barbie, live-in maid to Mistress Lady Penelope.
Age 18 up to finding Mistress Lady Penelope
I left school and opened my first bank account. It may have been that day or a little later, but as I left the bank there was a huddle of people outside blocking my path, but the crowd parted like the red sea for Moses and so I walked forward into the gap. There was still one person standing in the middle. To my amazement, it was the Prime Minister of all people! Well this was his constituency and there was an election. He asked me if he could have my vote, to which I replied I was not old enough to vote. He said ‘But you have just come out of a bank.’ I replied ‘Yes but I am not 21 yet’. He explained that the voting age had been lowered from 21 down to 18. I said ‘Then yes, you can have my vote.’
I ask you, how many people in all of British history have been informed face to face by the Prime Minister that they have a vote. I strongly suspect that I am unique in that respect.
Time passed. My opportunities to crossdress became rarer, I left full time education and started a job and over decades worked my way up to near the top of the ladder of success. Despite this I still lived with my parents.
I should have taken advantage of the ‘mortgage interest relief at source’ scheme if I had been wiser. I kept thinking there’s no rush, next year. Then I found out that it was to be abolished in a few months time and the moment I read that, I knew property prices were going to go up astronomically as people tried to beat the abolition date. It was like the chancellor had deliberately created a spike in property prices. I decided to not buy at inflated prices so stayed happily living ‘at home’. As you know, the spike was indeed short lived and many people suffered ‘negative equity’ for years afterwards.
I had been told many times by married men “Don’t get married, it’ll ruin your life.” This from (happily?) married men. I have also heard about ‘love at first sight’ and considered it a myth, probably thought up by women to help them to marry.
Well that all changed one day. First I must tell you that my business partner and his wife had introduced me a few times to ladies who were very suitable for marriage. I had never taken it past the introduction. At what time would I admit to her that I was a cross dresser, before or after marriage? If I concealed it I would be guilty of lying. No, best not to do that in the hope that marriage might ‘cure’ me of crossdressing. The urge is too strong for that and it was ingrained in me.
Well, back from that aside, I went from my office one day to the office’s kitchen/dining room. It was a bright summer’s day and the sun was intense. Sat facing me at the table were my business partner and his wife eating their lunch. Opposite them directly in front of me with her back to me was someone else. My attention was drawn to the fantastic view outside.
I was introduced to the lady I stood behind. I looked down away from the sunshine. She apparently has also been looking at the sunshine and tilted her head way back to look at me. Our eyes met and our pupils opened due to the change from looking at the sunshine to adjust to the relative gloom of the room. That was it! Maybe our subconscious minds had made a contract. I staggered back a pace or two it had affected me so much. My mind was now making plans for our future together even though I knew absolutely nothing about her. I did not feel lust, it was pure love, inappropriate love.
My business partner continued his introduction, she was travelling back home at the behest of her family, breaking off her education. Yes, she was barely out of her teenage years if that, I was a middle aged man maybe three times her age. She did not speak much English, I did not speak her language at all. She lived about 8,000 miles away.
I suddenly felt the need to go to the toilet and rushed off to the Gents. When I came out my love was waiting outside. We both realised it was impossible, what’s more we had both felt love at first sight. I will never again scoff at its existence. We apologised to each other for the inappropriateness of our love and agreed to take it no further. All this through her very limited schoolgirl English, she did very well.
She went off, I think to the Ladies toilet. Evidently my business partner had married an astute lady because she could see what had happened. When I returned to the kitchen/diner my business partner had, I think, been appraised by his wife of the situation. He pointed out the impossibility, the young lady had not been told of the death of her father and my business partner was helping her to get on a plane back home, back to the funeral, already unprepared for the shock to come. He said this was a most unwelcome distraction, she would certainly be too upset to even consider getting married to me. He understood it was not my fault and asked me to give her up, to which I agreed and told him that she must have followed me to the Gents toilet and of our discussion when I had come out again.
I went back to my desk and occupied my mind in my work and tried to get my subconscious mind to forget the contract it had formed with her. I never married, I hope my first love went on to meet a much younger man and had a happy life with children and all that makes life worthwhile for a woman.
Years passed, I looked after my parents in their old age as they became infirm, one in body, one in mind. Mum became bed ridden but she told me how to cook many simple things (like cottage pie) for all three of us. Inevitably, both my parents died, leaving me all alone.
I was deeply involved with computers and became aware of the opportunities of the internet and how I could order items, but my postman was rather nosey and I did not want the village locals to know of my activities.
I chanced it with a couple of companies who promised ‘plain packaging’ and indeed they were, but I could see the postman squeezing the grey plastic bags like he was playing a game to try to identify the contents.
I had bought a French maid uniform and accessories including a wig, mop cap, suspender belt and knickers. I bought a wig and white stretchy opera gloves. I also bought a latex mask to cover my rather full beard and ‘tache but the extra bulk of the hair on my chin pulled the eye holes down so I could not see out. I found a company which sold glue for latex but only in bulk, like 5 gallon (22 litre) tins but I phoned them up and was lucky to persuade them to fill a tube for me. I cut the crown of the mask and glued it back together so the face was stretched, making the eye holes match up with my eyes.
At last I could dress up as a proper French maid. I felt good wearing it and I did take photos of the results but they are not good enough for publication. I really wanted to take my crossdressing evening wear further. I still had a few of my mother’s dresses, some of which she had given me as rags for the workshop, others were left in her wardrobe when she passed away, but I yearned for the green taffeta gown and its petticoat, could I buy something like it?
Sorry there are no pictures in this post as no good photos were taken of me crossdressing until a little later.
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Leave a Reply