I was at College in the 70s and after leaving kept in touch with various friends. One of these was a girl called Lesley, very attractive, who went on to become a dance and drama teacher. She never married, and I occasionally went to stay at her flat. We were just friends, nothing else. I used to help with the washing up, etc., and Lesley often said I’d make a good housekeeper – I am a very tidy, neat, everything-in-its-place kind of person. I said I’d like the chance sometime. I’d been a closet transvestite for years although nobody knew of this, least of all Lesley. Anyway, we had an interesting discussion and the result was that Lesley said I could do some ‘maiding’ for her (Of course there was more to it than that, and if you wish I can explain more in future letters). This is what happened…

I used to arrive at Lesley’s flat on Friday evenings. After we’d greeted each other, and caught up on any news, I would go into the spare bedroom which I used during my visits. I kept various clothes there, but in truth I did not have a lot of possessions, although over the years I had built up various maid, schoolgirl and domestic outfits. In the early days I had a couple of maid dresses. Neither of them were short or impractical, and they did not hinder my work. ( I know, Miss MacDonald, that you are not a believer in frilly French maid uniforms!) Underneath my dress, apron and cap I wore a suspender belt with black stockings, ‘midi’ slip, and knickers. I never bothered with a bra. My knickers were proper maid's black-and-white frillies which I got from 'Transformation', along with my dresses. I wore flat, sensible shoes. I never wore wigs or makeup. I always felt the need to be a man dressed as a maid.

Having dressed I would go to Lesley and present myself ready for work. Friday night was always spent in the kitchen. Lesley had usually saved a few days worth of dirty dishes and then I gave the kitchen a once-over: the sink, work spaces etc. We’d have a light evening meal, prepared and served by me, and then we’d talk till bedtime. This was done in character. Lesley was the lady of the house, my mistress, and I was her maid.

For the rest of the weekend I would do domestic work around the house. I addressed Lesley as 'Madam' or 'Mistress'. My name was Alice. I was so happy just to be a maid doing domestic work for my mistress. I don't know if this is real Petticoat Discipline because I readily embraced it.

I hope you will print this, Miss MacDonald and I look forward to your comments. I would like to write more if you will allow me.
Yours respectfully,

Alice

Women are more perceptive than a lot of men seem to think. I bet Lesley had very strong suspicions that you liked ladies' things, and that the suggestion that you would 'make a good housekeeper' was a bit of gentle teasing. I congratulate her for taking advantage of her suspicions, and thereby making life more pleasurable and memorable for both of you.

And she later became a drama teacher! Most women, like most men, can't really understand the art of acting, although a good teacher of any subject can. But someone with a sense of the dramatic would have played the 'lady of the house' to perfection. She must have been fascinated by her little housemaid, and I hope that you are perceptive enough to realise how lucky you were.

Like 'The Soft Embrace of Pink Tights', this is a short letter, but there is a whole story reading between the lines!
Susan