My aunt Pearl always used to say that you don’t win the lottery unless you buy a ticket. I remember the words echoing in my ears as they carted her off to rehab yet again, for her gambling addiction.
She was not only a serial gambler, but also a serial trophy wife. Her habit allowed her to work her way through the fortunes of six husbands, some of whom died in what can only be described as mysterious circumstances. Fortunately the standards of police investigation in Northern Rhodesia at the time were not quite up to the standards of CSI tv shows today. One went riding on his ranch, and was never seen again. Another choked to death in a tragic sausage eating competition (no surprises there), and another had a mysterious heart attack while taking his daily exercise. No one would think playing bowls could be so strenuous.
Needless to say, Aunt Pearl died a very wealthy woman. When asked where her wealth had come from she would often reply that one of her husbands had been involved in the ‘underground’ doing secret work during the war in London. This seemed very cryptic, and it’s certainly true that she did generally marry older men, much more frail than herself. One had indeed been in London during the war, though he worked on The Underground, driving a train. It was he who won the lottery and was the basis of her fortune.
You doubtless wonder why I am sharing these intimate details. Well, I am still sunning myself on the beach here in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. A flat tummy is good, as far as it goes. A bronzed one is even better. I’ve been getting some help from Juan the masseur, who has helped in so many ways. He’s rubbed all manner of things on my body to improve my tone.
My presence here is due in part to my cashing in a few stocks and investments. I always make a point to have a small portfolio of shares; as Aunt Pearl said, ‘you don’t win the lottery if you don’t buy a ticket’, after all. I am not suggesting you take investment advice from a crossdressing femme like me, but this market feels right for an adjustment. I can’t help thinking it’s about to slide for a while. Best revisit those precious metal stocks. They look a lot more secure than most right now.
I have been learning some useful Spanish phrases, which I will list for you at the foot of this message. Juan is very talented, a master of tongues. He said to me just the other day that he envied my good luck on the market.
“If I stand close to you, perhaps some of that good luck will rub off on me!” He said with a laugh.
I smiled at him, looking at the rather obvious bulge in his speedo, and replied that if he stood much closer it would be more than just my good luck that would rub off on him.
Have a wonderful week, and remember – “Accept yourself as you are, and create yourself as you wish.”
When I first felt that thrill of pulling on panties and not being afraid, it was amazing. I felt like I wanted to find a partner and see what wonderful things I could experiment with.
What would they do with me, and how would they make love to me? You have no idea the rush of finding that first lover who was willing to take the uninitiated young thing I was!
Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I wanted just ‘anyone’. No, I wanted a play partner that I could rely on to experiment and help me find out what exciting new things this body could do. I wanted someone that would treat me with respect, but also experiment with new things.
I had never thought for an instant that a man would find me attractive, prior to really dressing properly. It was only as I began to accept myself, that I realised I could enjoy my body – instead of feeling inadequate and embarrassed by it.
Some of you are reading the story of McKlusky, and how he bullied me. As I began to experiment I soon realised that far from being embarrassed and awkward about my body, I could use it to good effect and men not only wanted me, they prized my physical attributes far above females or males.
I began to realise I literally had the best of both worlds. That was why I started to enjoy my new crossdressing sexuality. I realised I was in demand. And men would do virtually anything for me.
Soon I found I had admirers who wanted to take me away on their yacht, take me to wonderful holiday destinations and would do almost anything to be my lover. In fact, they’d take me anywhere, except to meet their mother!
Now, I know you understand the appeal of a great crossdresser. It’s why you are here. And yes, a crossdresser certainly does love the attention. Any CD that fantasises, does so wondering what you might do with them – what height you might take them to. Can you imagine how exciting that is?
Each new lover is a new chance to discover new sides to their evolving personality. Surely you’d love to be part of that exploration!
In Fiona’s Little Black Book there are over 350 CDs from all over the world just waiting to chat, email and meet new friends, just as I did. They want to meet friends of their own age, younger and older. All of them are looking for connections. Whether you’d just like to email, Skype or meet, there’s someone there for you, << Test First Name >>.
If you’d like to join Fiona’s Little Black Book as an Admirer you too could find a CD to explore new adventures with. Are you ready for that?
Come on. Join in today. Just follow this link below to subscribe to The Admirers Club, and start connecting with members of Fiona’s Little Black Book today.
You’ll love the feeling of sexy excitement that a close shave gives you!
The winter months are always fun in an advertising agency. Even more so for myself, as I have several skiing related accounts. It was this that brought me, Bernard my photographer and Sebastian, my personal trainer to the beautiful mountain village of Whistler in Beautiful British Columbia this week.
I found myself here partly to oversee the photography for a ski manufacturer’s latest high end products, and also for a resort client located in the Village. As part of the week’s activity I found myself skiing with a small group of journalists, all eager to test the manufacturers new products.
Before the main days skiing, I had the opportunity to brush up my skills a little with Bernard. There I was, in my tight ski suit, stretching and preparing.
In the comfort of my hotel room, Sebastian helped me refine my style and posture for fast downhill skiing. Sebastian can be very useful on a trip like this. You’d be surprised what he gets up to.
“Now bend your legs, and flatten your back.”
I found the position strangely familiar.
“If you move your hips from side to side,” he said standing behind me, “you’ll find it feel even more fluid.” Sebastian seemed quite breathless.
“Yes,” I gasped feeling my body getting into the exercise. “It’s a very enjoyable sensation,” I said as I moved my body languidly back and forth.
Now, I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but all this stretching and preparation seemed to get Sebastian quite excited. I could swear he poked me in the back with his ski pole!
As it happened I did very well on the slopes. At the end of the week of skiing we had a race down the mountain from the peak, a very exciting informal race. I thought I might be beaten by a number of the boys, but as you might guess, try as they might – and through no small effort on my part – I managed to beat them off and cross the finish line leading by a head.
After that it was up to the hot tub to watch the snow falling on the mountain in the twighlight.
But that’s not the main reason I’m writing. I thought I’d send you a quick reminder that with Spring just around the corner it’s time to start looking for some new Spring colors. This year putting together easy combinations of colors in underwear, makeup and outwear should be every CD’s priority. When was the last time you matched your eyeshadow to your favorite lingerie? Well, todays a great day to start planning ahead.
Got any great Spring outfit ideas? Get on the website and share them!
You won’t believe what Sebastian is covered in!
Sebastian, my personal trainer, was standing in my kitchen, looking distraught. It’s not a good look for a slim man in spandex. He’d cycled over to my place for a coffee.
“The stuff’s everywhere,” he moaned. “I can’t move in my apartment, there’s so much Jiz everywhere!”
“I’m sorry?” I said, adjusting the peach colored silk robe I was wearing. I had just waxed my legs and chest and the soft silk felt magnificent on my skin.
“It’s all over the place!” He went on.
“It’s the week of the Junior and Intermediate Zumba challenge. Everyone down at the gym enters.”
“Is that a ‘thing’?” I asked.
“I get to do the Jiz thing every year, and every year it’s a nightmare. I just get overwhelmed. And this year, honestly, I think I’ve taken as much as I can take. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew and I’m practically choking on it!”
“I believe the expression is ‘gagging’.” I added, helpfully.
“All the other personal trainers down at the gym leave it to me, and every year I just get sucked in!”
“I wonder why,” I said rhetorically.
“My whole place is covered in the stuff to arrange it, costumes, posters. I even had to design them myself.” Sebastian reached into his back pack and brought out a folded-up poster.
“Oh, Let me see it,” I said trying to sound enthusiastic.
“Yes, of course. Your friend Amanda helped me with it.”
“Amanda is my wife’s friend,” I pointed out. Because she edits a trade publication, Pig And Pig Farmer, Amanda considers herself something of a media mogul. I think you’ll agree that’s a bit of a stretch.
Sebastian looked at it thoughtfully. “They wouldn’t let me put it up at Starbucks. They got quite snotty about it.”
“I wonder why,” I said.
But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. It’s going to be spring soon, so it’s time to start getting ready with some new looks for Spring. I thought I’d make a couple of suggestions, to help you along.
Spring is a time to emphasise the soft pastels, using both cosmetics and clothes that lift and brighten their surroundings. This is a great time, if you don’t dress outside of the house, to bring some more feminine colors into your selection of clothes that you’d wear day to day.
If you wear glasses, think about getting a pair that are softer and more blended to your skin. Be prepared to experiment with your daily look, softening it with colors that convey gentle forms. Hard black frames may be better replaced with a softer color, for example.
As you color your life more gently, you may be surprised to find yourself feeling more gentle. You’re going to love that. You may well find that wearing pastels and muted colors contributes to a more gentle mood, and as you look the way you know you should, you start to feel the way you should, too.
I sincerely hope you are enjoying the news I share with you. You can participate and comment even more at http://FionaDobson.com
Have a great week,
Sylvester and Max are jacking off in my garden!
+++ A quick explanatory note: Members who sign up for the Free Program, and Premium Program Members, get my messages the moment they are written. They are posted as blog comments about a week later, so belated Merry Christmas. Have a great New Year! +++
My goodness, if you could see what’s going on outside my window. I can hardly believe is! I’m standing here in my Christmas lingerie, and my heels, and quite shocked at what I can see going on out there!
Ali, my gardner has just told me, “It’s ok, Fiona. It’s just Sylvester and Max jacking off in the flower beds.”
Now, I know you can imagine me standing here in my flowing red silk robe, mouth open in surprise. I am staring out at the snowy Montreal scene, and everybody seems to be having a wonderful time! Oh, perhaps you should even be here!
Let me explain. I’m watching Sylvester’s muscle bound arm pumping up and down and Max, my next door neighbours 20 year old son laughing – I think he’s licking his fingers – yes, he’s spilled some Bailey’s Irish Cream on his hand, or at least I think that’s what it is. And Ali is watching, engrossed in the unfolding scene.
They’re laughing and very jolly, Sylvester’s face red with exertion, and he has a look of deep concentration. Apparently, Ali’s Smart Car slid off the drive in the snow as he pulled into the icy driveway. It slid into the flower bed, and onto a rock in the rockery. Max and Sylvester were already at my place enjoying a Christmas eve drink, and now the three of them are working away to lift the little vehicle off the rock and manhandle it back onto the drive. What Christmas excitement!
I should hurry along, Amanda, the queen of tweed will be here soon, and Bernard is coming over. My wife, sadly is travelling. She’s a slave to her job! In the meantime, we are a fun gang, all hoping that Christmas will go with a bang!
I hope yours does, too! Have a wonderful holiday and remember, be careful if you are driving in the snow. Otherwise you too might find yourself licking Irish cream from your fingers after jacking off in someone’s garden!
I have been treating myself to a few enjoyable gifts to myself lately. Victoria’s Secret, and one or two other places have been benefiting from my self indulgence.
On Wednesday, this week I asked Max, my neighbours twenty-year old son, to come with me to a lingerie store. This was admittedly partly to tease him, and partly to teach him a little lesson. He’s been hanging around a lot lately, and seems to spend way too much time at my place. When I am doing yoga he seems to get extremely agitated. When I am working up a sweat he seems unable to stop watching at me.
“Max,” I said to him, “sometimes I don’t know what’s got into you. You spend so much time over here! You might as well help me with some shopping.”
I drove down to the lingerie store with him, and explained, “Things have been so hard lately,” as I smoothed down the skirt I was wearing.
“Don’t you ever feel like,” I searched for words, “…splashing out on some new underwear?”
Max seemed quite overcome by the thought. He carried my bags back to my car once I had bought some new items of hosiery.
Once at home, I took out several boxes of my underwear and asked him to help me sort them into colors and fold them nicely. He seemed very happily engaged in this task when there came a knock on the door downstairs. I asked him to go down and see who it could be.
Max took himself off and some minutes later, when he didn’t return I glanced out of the window to see him clutching at his stomach and heaving into a flowerbed in my garden. This wasn’t going to help the petunias. After all his efforts to keep them looking full and flowery, Ali, my gardener was not going to like that at all.
I opened the window of my bedroom and called down, “Max, are you all right?”
In reply he pointed toward the kitchen and called back “Amanda,” And then staggered off toward the gate to his parent’s house.
I groaned inwardly. Amanda, my wife’s obnoxious friend, had obviously slipped through the perimeter defences. I decided to go downstairs and see what the unbearable woman wanted. I slipped into pair of gender neutral yoga pants and descended the stairs.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with that boy,” Amanda blurted out as I entered the kitchen. Apparently she had got away from work editing Pig and Pig Farmer Weekly a little early today.
“What did you do to the poor lamb, Amanda?”
“I just asked him to help me with something. You see, I’m taking some pain medication for my back. Anyway I’m supposed to,” and at this point she lowered her voice, “use these.” She pulled a package from her sac like handbag.
“And what are these,” I asked not wishing to get too close.
“Suppositories,” she relied, and my stomach turned over.
“And you wanted Max to help you with them?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied in a matter of fact voice. “They’re supposed to bring my temperature down. It’s a side effect of the medication, you see.”
“You don’t think that’s a little odd?” I said, my mind reeling as I stared at the pack on my kitchen counter.
“Is that even a thing?” I made a note to Google suppositories and temperature.
“You don’t understand,” she stammered as though suddenly realising she’d made a horrendous mistake.
“Amanda, I really don’t think you can ask young Max to…”
“It’s the packaging. I can’t get it out of the blister pack,” she protested.
“There are some things, Amanda, you just can’t ask people to do!”
“I can’t open the packaging, it’s my fingers. Not with my arthritis!” she protested.
“All the same,” I said doubtfully. “I think you may have scarred Max permanently. He looks pretty traumatised.”
“Oh, my goodness,” she gasped. “You don’t think he thought I wanted him to…” Amanda looked horrified.
“Yes, I do, Amanda. I think you may have left a very damaging and lasting impression on his fragile young mind.”
However, all this is not the main reason I am writing to you this evening. We’ve got some great new content on the website here: http://FionaDobson.com and I’d love to see your comments and questions about it. Go right ahead and make comments on the site, and I’m thrilled to answer them.
Have a great week and remember not to let your temperature get too high.
As Halloween approaches and the souls of the dead prepare to walk the earth, any number of my friends are preparing to dress up and wander the streets in the dark. Actually, now that I think about it, most weekends many of my friends spend their evenings doing precisely that regardless of the time of year.
I was conferring with Sylvester in my kitchen, examining a few articles of lingerie, trying to decide what best to wear for my Halloween night party. I finally decided on fishnet, stiletto heels and a bodice, with a steampunk look. Perfect.
I asked Sylvester what he planned to come as.
“I think Donald Trump, if I can find the right costume.”
“At this late stage, I’m not sure you’re going to be able to find a giant dick costume!” I said sympathetically.
At that very moment Amanda, my wife’s unbearable friend, arrived at the door and knocked so hard I felt sure the roof would cave in. She has all the grace and delicacy of a garbage truck.
She barrelled in, coughing and spluttering like a diesel engine that hadn’t been run in a while. Amanda then went on to tell us of the latest disaster to befall her. Amanda was coming by, fresh from her gynecologist. Now, if there was ever a job that requires a strong stomach, being Amanda’s gyny would be the top of that list. Apparently Amanda was in the midst of an exam, had a coughing fit and one way or another the poor man was taken off to hospital with a broken wrist!
I will spare you the details, but it was all rather distasteful. Then, just to make matters worse, Sylvester let slip that he was coming to my party, which so far we’d successfully kept secret from Amanda. She then promptly invited herself to the event!
Reluctantly I asked what she would be coming as.
“Well,” she said, expansively. “I think I’ll come as that CNN broadcaster that looks like me.”
Sylvester and I looked at one another, puzzled. I was thinking, maybe Lou Dobbs, but he’s with Fox now. Maybe Wolf Blitzer?
“You know,” she persisted. “The blonde. Megan whats-her-name…”
“Megan Kelly?” I asked.
“That’s her,” said Amanda.
“Oh,” I said. “The likeness is uncanny.” Megan Kelly looks about as much like Amanda as a carrot resembles plague.
“Well,” I said. “If you stand next to Sylvester as Donald Trump, all you need do to look like Megan Kelly is wear any form of period costume.”
But, that’s not the main reason I am writing to you. I recently had a delightful email from Brandi, in Yakima, WA in which she enclosed a great face pic which she had touched up using an app called YouCam Makeup- Makeover Studio. I’m sure we all appreciate a good touch up, don’t we? So this week I am offering a free membership of my Little Black Book to the best retouched Halloween pic which uses YouCam or another similar makeup type filter. Keep in mind that any pics you send in may end up on the website – so don’t be surprised if I place them there!
Have a wonderful Halloween, and at this time of year – when so many of us are having so much fun – spare a thought for Amanda’s gynecologist!
All I can possibly say is, “What a week!”
Now, as you likely know, I am the very soul of discretion, and would neither say anything to embarrass anyone, nor anything to get myself sued. With this in mind you may need to read between the lines in today’s email. For my many friends outside of North America, you may have to work a little on this week’s missive.
I found myself hurrying through Las Vegas this week, on agency business. I got off the plane and was in a series of meetings before finally checking into my hotel late on Wednesday evening. The last time I had been in Las Vegas was with Sebastian, my personal trainer, who was here applying for a job. He was in the midst of one of his bursts of Christian spirituality, and had applied to a famous TV Evangelist for a job working as a missionary. The TV preacher was subsequently defrocked, I learned, for being rather too friendly with some of the younger members of his flock. Such behaviour! I wonder if that is ‘defrocked’ or disbaaahed’? Either way, Sebastian did not get the missionary position.
I found my hotel to be full of activity and secret service people, as apparently there was a very important guest staying. At first I thought all the attention was for me, however I soon found out otherwise.
After checking in, I walked to the elevator, stepped inside just as a large entourage arrived and one particular member pushed forward through the closing doors of the elevator. Taken by surprise I found myself alone in the elevator with a large man, who was instantly recognizable by his shock of orange hair.
Now, as I say, I am the soul of discretion, so I will refrain from naming names. The man was, in his way, also applying for a rather important job. He was very distraught and kept muttering something about a ‘nasty woman’.
To my surprise the elevator stopped after a moment, nowhere near my floor, and the lights dimmed. Being caught in a halted elevator is a very disturbing experience. The man looked at me, then seemed to realise his colleagues were not with us, and gradually we realised we were stuck in the elevator, and may be here some time. It was a very difficult situation.
The next moment I was shocked to find himm lunging at me and thrusting himself forwards. As you know, I am not the ‘average’ woman and have a little extra to surprise any man. As he tried to grab at me, I deftly stepped aside and giggled.
“Really,” I gasped, and tried to stall him, but he was having none of it. He made another lurch and his octopus like hands were suddenly all over me!
Thinking, I might as well do something about the situation, I pushed him away, smiled and said that I thought I might know what he needed.
“Relax,” I said. “Think of me as someone who can sort out your election…”
I dropped to my knees and I will not go into what followed. Needless to say, I think I can say his pole was looking healthier than it has in a long time. By the time the elevator returned to service, he was looking a lot more relaxed.
As we arrived on the 16th floor, the doors opened and several worried looking secret service personnel hurried into the elevator. My friend then disappeared, leaving me feeling like I needed to go and brush my teeth, in the knowledge I had done my bit to serve my country.
However, that’s not the main reason I am writing to you. As we edge closer to the election I feel it part of my role to urge you to go out, familiarise yourself with the issues and then get out and vote. As for me, I think I’ve had enough of his nonsense rammed down my throat for one election.
This is a cool file self hypnosis video if you are interested in trying out a nice new look incorporating a mini skirt. If you’ve never tried this, have a listen to the file and see how you get along.
It’s true. The queen of tweed is at it again. If it’s not putting her up while her house is being fumigated, it’s something else.
Whilst the thought of putting anything up Amanda is disturbing in the extreme, I am not above helping my wife’s irritating friend. She asked for an idea to help advertise the magazine she edits, Pig And Pig Farmer weekly.
I hope you enjoy it. By the way, I am a little surprised to find myself being asked from time to time if I know where people can subscribe to the magazine. It would appear Amanda has quite a following.
As you are probably aware I lead a strange and varied existence. Since Angelina has returned to Los Angeles, I’ve been very busy and had a houseful of friends today. As luck would have it my personal trainer, Sebastian, brought a friend of his over for my workout, and we opted to do something a little different. She was a delightful little thing and came to teach a yoga class.
This was wonderful, as I’ve recently bought some stunning new leggings, which when worn with a little pink tee shirt combines to make a lovely simple outfit. Misha, the yoga teacher also had cooked a delightful curry, which we enjoyed and then sat about talking for about an hour before laying out a few mats and beginning the class.
Now, I should point out that Sylvester, my mechanic, who had dropped by to help me with some lubrication issues, is something of a stranger to Yoga, but having enjoyed some curry, decided to join our little class. I also had Ali, my Syrian gardener join us. Bernard my photographer, happened to have come round for tea, still recovering from being Tazered and having a heart attack, also joined us. It really was a full house.
Max, my neighbors 19 year old son, who I must say I find spending far too much time goggling at me, also took time to join us. It was quite a lovely group. I have on many occasions lately, noticed how Max has been looking at me. I think he’s given himself one too many selfies lately, if you get my drift. Can’t be good for the eyesight!
Sylvester shifted uneasily as he took up a ‘warrior 2’ pose, and Misha cooed that yoga is all about fluid movements. Bernard glanced at Sylvester, who lurched into another position, and grunted that the curry was taking care of the fluid movements – and quietly slipped off to the bathroom.
Ali was looking off into the far distance, very serenely, enjoying every moment. When Sylvester returned he adopted a pose that resembled a shed in a car park, more than it did a yoga position. That said, his body is very muscular. Almost Neanderthal, actually.
Max, positioned behind me as I adopted a forward fold from the hips, stared with adolescent lust. I couldn’t help thinking of the many handed god Vishnu, and how Max wouldn’t mind being him about now.
We did enjoy the class and as it wrapped up Misha told us all how she loved the yoga lifestyle. She teaches and also has a small business selling soaps and perfumes. She’s a very creative young lady.
“I’ve even released my own fragrance,” she commented.
Looking very uncomfortable with the situation, Sylvester added that he had as well, and hurried to the bathroom once more.
Life really is never dull!
If you have not already signed up for the Premium Program please consider doing so. I have some great exercises and tasks in there for all my gurls. Before you know it you’ll have your ankles behind your ears and be enjoying fluid movements of your own!
I sincerely hope you are enjoying the news I share with you. You can participate and comment even more at http://FionaDobson.com
I must say that this week has been an extraordinary handful at the advertising agency. I have found myself torn between a number of difficult situations.
The first and most difficult was with one of our public relations clients, who for reasons of discretion I will help remain anonymous by just using her first name. From time to time, conserving anonymity is a discreet and essential part of the work of our public relations division, and I am often asked to help that side of the business out.
So, I will just use first names, as I am sure you will appreciate the delicacy of the situation. Well, anyway, this week one of the agency’s top clients suffered a somewhat humiliating piece of news which required her to remain out of reach of the press. Of course, this is the price of celebrity. As her marriage has unraveled the press have been all over the story. With this in mind my client and friend, we’ll just call her ‘Angelina’, was in need of a quiet place to retreat away from the media.
It’s not the first time she’s visited, of course. Going out for a night on the town, in glorious Montreal, is one of her guilty pleasures. We’ve had some wonderful times, on more than one occasion being mistaken as sisters.
She hurried through from the airport, one morning this week, only to find Ali’s smart car parked in my driveway, so she was unable to drive directly into the garage. She called me on her cell, worried that the press might be hot on her high heels. She called me in a state of excitement and quite breathless.
“It’s all right,” I said, calming her. “Just feel free to use my rear entrance.”
So, it’s been a week of tearful reminiscing and comforting my good friend. But then again, what’s a gurlfriend for?
Next week I’ll be traveling south, and will be sure to keep you informed about what’s going on. In the meantime, what a great time to upgrade your membership and see what fun we can have dressing you up and putting you through your paces. If you haven’t yet listened to episodes of Fiona’s Inbox this would be a great time!
You know how it is. You all get ready, make sure you’re prepared. Everyone takes the proper precautions – you know what I’m saying.
And then it always goes like this. One person just always, always finishes too soon. They’re way out there on their own having so much fun and then they’re done. Yes, it’s the same every time.
That’s why I never like playing threesomes at my local golf course. Sylvester and I are out there trying to find our balls, and Sebastian, my personal trainer, has already finished and is left polishing the shaft of his 9 iron.
As you can doubtless tell, Sylvester, Sebastian and I are out having a last round of golf before this glorious summer comes to an end.
Bernard is recovering from his heart transplant at home in his bed, though I have noticed since he got the heart of a middle aged African American woman he has started behaving very strangely. He’s made an appointment to meet Amanda, the queen of tweed, and show her his ‘Mamma’s recipe for apple pie,’ and he’s join the local Baptist church choir. They were very confused when he said he wanted to sing in the soprano section.
I’ve always found teeing off in a group of four very much more satisfying. I also like to get off first, so I can feel them all coming up behind me. I’m sure you know what I mean.
But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you tonight. It’s just to tell you I’ve recently added a new feature to my Premium Program. I’ve always had a great collection of tasks and hypnosis files for my CD friends and members. Now I have added some great new material to the Premium Program for those crossdressers who have a partner who you’d like to bring into your CD activities.
Yes, I’ve put together a special short empowerment course to help your wife or partner (of any gender) take a more dominant role. This fun series of self hypnosis recordings stimulates a more dominant aspect of the subject to emerge. Over the course of several nights they listen to hypnotic instructions that are sure to engage their more dominant self. This, coupled with a powerful set of ‘subservience’ instructions for you – and it’s a powerful tool for anyone wanting to engage their partner in some of their crossdressing.
I know you’ll love it. It’s yet another great reason to upgrade to Premium Program if you haven’t already.