The Day That Changed My Life

This week is the 5th anniversary of a night changed my life forever.

I had been visiting a stripper for a few months at a club in the City, but this night I was to meet her privately for the first time.

She was well aware of my love of dressing up, and always called me Alice when we met.

But that night was to be the first time I had ever shared Alice with anyone. It was a big, scary thing for me to do, but also intensely exciting.

We met in an East End pub first and then returned to my hotel room.

I got changed in the bathroom and nervously revealed myself to her. All my worries slipped away as she embraced me and complimented my look.

Over the next few months, we would meet regularly in bars and hotels for drinks and fun, but it is that first night that sticks in my memory so vividly.

I still think of her often and miss her desperately.


Lockdown Tales #3

There seems to be a lot of talk about selfies and photography today.

Photography has been part of my life for so long. The thrill of picking up your 24 prints from Boots is hard to beat. Though of course this could also be matched by the sense of embarrassment knowing what some of the photos might be of. Hoping against hope they had not been viewed too closely by the photolab staff…

Today, the thrill of seeing your shots is instantaneous, but there is no blushing in Boots.

My one regret is that I never had a model as willing as myself. In part this explains Alice: I love taking pictures of models in sexy underwear and with no-one else to wear it, I wear it myself.

Selfies have been a constant thing throughout my journey as Alice. I started posting pictures to Flickr back in 2012 and have documented virtually every occasion I have had the opportunity to dress up.

These days of course, that means virtually daily. I still post everything I take to Flickr, including some of the less flattering shots. There are now around 20,000 shots of Alice in various states of undress.

Since posting more frequently to Twitter, my style has probably altered slightly: I now take more “tasteful” shots which are acceptable for my timeline. This I think has helped me in my photography as I have to be more creative and the results are more pleasing.

Having access to a much expanded wardrobe and being able to shave my legs has also helped with the appeal of my shots too without doubt.

During lockdown, of course, the opportunities to take pictures have multiplied and I have been doing just that. I started #DressoftheDay in March not knowing how long it might last, but, finally, I am beginning to run out of new outfits to show off.

What will I do to fill my days next…

The Last Leg

In November 2018, I finally got to buy my own place; a maisonette, small, but all mine.

Moving in day

Luckily there are extensive built-in wardrobes in the main bedroom: my dresses now have their own hanging space. And I certainly need it now: those of you following me on Twitter will have noticed I am on about day 46 of #DressoftheDay. (I may collect all the shots here in one place in a Lockdown update.)

Finally, I felt safe, secure, and comfortable: I was home!

Honestly, I am a bit lazy and I was lucky the previous occupant left a number of things behind, a sofa, a kitchen table, a bed, etc. Obviously when I moved in I had nothing in the way of furniture, that all stayed behind at the family home. I have added IKEA furniture and painted the kids room and that is the sum total of my “hard work” so far.


But, I have been lucky in making new friends. From my first tentative steps in 2018, I have toured the country from the south coast to the coast of Scotland and met some amazing people and had some wonderful adventures along the way.

And so, my life story is now up to date. Let’s hope there is plenty more to write…

Alice, coming to a city near you soon!

Somewhere in North Yorkshire

Let the adventures begin…


February 2018. So, at last, freedom! All alone in my new home! Suddenly, for the first time in 18 years I was master (mistress?) of my domain! It was time for Alice to set off on a journey of discovery.

Practically everyday was an Alice day. My wardrobe expanded exponentially.

I met people; I went to a kink club (with someone from work!); I painted my nails; I tried chastity and bondage

In September 2018, I was lucky enough to meet my first group of Twits and it felt wonderful to be accepted as I am without question or judgement.

I truly felt my life was just beginning.

Lockdown Tales #1

I have been working from home since the 5th of March, which seems like a lifetime ago. For the first couple of weeks, I was still able to go out and meet people, but living alone, it was still quite an isolating experience.

However, those early weeks allowed me to ease gently into lockdown, I suppose, and when the lockdown began I was already fairly used to my new routine and the lack of personal contact.

Usually, Alice is a fairly part-time hobby: I never present as Alice in public, and certainly not at work! Working from home was an opportunity.

On that first day, I put on my best office-type outfit

Appropriate office wear

It was certainly a novelty to be able to spend all day as Alice.

My Alice wardrobe is not entirely “office-appropriate” to say the least, but what started out as making the most of an opportunity that was expected to last for two weeks, has now become a ritual that has lasted for six weeks and is likely to continue for at least another month.

I have been posting a #DressoftheDay pretty much ever since.

I am lucky that I still have a weekly routine, working office hours Monday to Friday with daily phone calls and chat with colleagues and still able to see my children at weekends. But without my online friends life would definitely have been much harder. I think the community spirit on Twitter has been amazing during this period and we have all helped each other along.

We look forward to the day we can all meet up and I no longer have to post a #DressoftheDay!

Our little secret

Here’s a little story I wrote some time ago…

Dani, the cheeky twenty-something girl from next door, seems to be forever watching what I do. I am always careful when I indulge my secret hobby of cross-dressing. Occasionally when I wander around the house in my lingerie and heels, I catch a glimpse of her looking directly at my windows. I hope I have remembered to close the curtains fully when I have been dressed up. She seems so curious about what is going on in here.

Her and her family keep my spare key for emergencies. I hope they can be trusted. Last week, when I got home from work and followed my usual routine – suit off, lingerie on – I just had the feeling that things were not quite as I had left them. Surely I must have been mistaken, but I had to know for sure.

(It was quite exciting to think she might know, though!)

So I thought of setting a trap: this is what happened…

When I was sure she was watching my house, I made preparations to go out in full view, so she would know I was going to be a long time. As I packed the car, I waved to her to be sure that she noticed. I drove off and parked around the corner. I waited for a few minutes and inconspicuously walked back to the house, noting that Dani was not at her window! My heart beat faster. Could she really be in my house?

I quietly entered the house and listened.

I went upstairs: yes, there was definitely somebody in my room. Fearful, I stepped inside the room.

There was Dani with all my dresses and lingerie on the bed, rummaging through my drawers. We both froze. This was not a situation either of us were prepared for.

Wide-eyed, Dani tried to make a run for it, but I caught her before she could leave. She was struggling to escape, but I could not let her leave without talking to her. I dragged her to the wardrobe, and with one arm holding her tight, reached for where I knew my handcuffs were and managed to fit them to her wrists. She still looked like she was going to try and get away, so I managed to get a rope round her wrists and through the hook fixed to the ceiling. I tied it off and stepped back, breathless.

As I studied her in her short black skirt and white blouse, arms stretched above her head so far she was on tiptoe, I could not help but notice how beautiful and vulnerable she looked. There was still defiance in her eyes, and I was worried she would scream, so I quickly grabbed a pair of knickers off the bed and stuffed them in her mouth.

Finally, I sat down and observed her. Standing on tiptoe, her skirt had ridden up slightly to reveal the dark band of stocking tops. I tried not to be aroused, but instead spoke to her. There was fear in her eyes, but also a defiance, and something else. Were her pupils dilating? Her breathing was hard and fast, but after her exertion I would have expected that.

I asked her what she thought she was doing. She replied with muffled grunts, but I didn’t want to remove her gag in case she yelled.

So I lectured her. She turned her head away in defiance, but I wanted to make sure she was listening, so I got up and held her head so she had to look at me. There was fire in her eyes!

Finally, I said I thought she should be punished for being so curious and breaking into my house. At the word “punished”, her eyes lit up momentarily. She tried to hide it, but I had seen it.

“Oh, so you like being punished?” I repeated. She squirmed a little and her eyes lit up again. This time she did not try to hide it, but rather glared at me defiantly, daring me.

Before the moment was lost, I roughly yanked up her skirt, revealing in full her stocking tops and lacy black knickers and lightly brushed her bottom with my hands. I felt her body melt a little, and she squirmed slightly against my hand. I lightly spanked both cheeks and she whimpered a little.

Well, she really was enjoying this, it seemed.

I reached in the cupboard for my crop and showed it to her and her eyes said “yes please”.

I gave her a couple of light taps and her breathing quickened. A couple more, slightly harder, and she whimpered. Four more, short and sharp. She tried to bring her bottom up to meet each stroke it seemed. When I stopped, she sighed; when I rested the crop on her bottom again, she wriggled in anticipation.

I had never done this before, but I felt my own desire rising rapidly. I stood behind her and held her and whispered in her ear “You want some more?”. She nodded firmly with conviction. “But properly this time” I added: she nodded enthusiastically.

I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of her skirt and pushed it to the floor in one swift movement. With my face now level with her bottom, I kissed it gently. I stood up and did the same with her knickers, kissing her bottom again. As I stood up again, she tilted her head, inviting me to kiss her neck. Then with sudden force, I ripped open her blouse, the buttons flying in all directions. I did it again with her bra. She was now effectively naked in front of me.

I stepped around to face her and studied her closely. She looked down to avoid my gaze, but with the crop I gently raised her chin and she greeted me with a look of desire and defiance.

I stepped to one side and teased her bottom with the crop. A gentle tap to get my aim; four more with increasing intensity. With the final one, she yelped and I stopped. She looked at me with eyes that said “more, please”. This time six, each a little harder than the previous one. No yelps, but her breathing quickened to become panting. I stepped in front of her again to observe.

I traced down her body with the crop and she squirmed at its gentle touch. I stepped forward and removed the knickers from her mouth, confident now that she would not yell, and kissed her hard. I then traced a similar route with my tongue, slowly down her body. I flicked my tongue against her hardening nipples and she breathed in sharply. I bit one and she quivered all over: I bit the other and she quivered again. My hand went between her legs and I felt how wet she was. Her breathing became erratic as I delicately teased her and harder as I probed her. As my tongue joined my fingers, she moaned and cried out. As she edged closer to orgasm, her moaning became louder. I replaced the gag quickly and continued, her muffled cries still seeming too loud.

I stopped what I was doing and took the crop to her bottom once more: six swift hard strokes.

My hand went back between her legs and my other stroked her bottom. She was getting closer now, her eyes told me. I stopped again, prolonging her wait again.

Another six swift strokes. She yelped and her eyes begged me to touch her again.

With two fingers and my thumb I felt her again and this time did not stop. She came hard and fast, thrusting against my fingers, and yet still I didn’t stop.

Finally she whimpered and her body went limp. I caught her as she slumped and kissed her tenderly. I quickly undid the rope and laid her down gently on the bed and stroked her body all over.

She looked up at me with wide eyes, the defiance gone, only tenderness now.

“This must remain our little secret” I said quietly, and she nodded her acquiescence.