Bigger breasts – generally a good thing.

Hi,
I always listened to my mother’s advice. She would often say things like, ‘If you have something to say about someone, make it something positive.”I’ve always thought this is very good advice. It’s kept me out of trouble, mostly, however this week I had a situation in which this seemed to backfire.As you likely know, Amanda (my wife’s appalling friend) has a habit of dropping in unannounced at the most inopportune of moments. She was with us just last weekend on one such unplanned visit. I have asked Sylvester, who is something of an inventor in his spare time (see Sylvester’s Boner), to come up with some kind of early warning device to avoid such situations.

Julie and I were helping Ali in the garden just yesterday afternoon, where he was pruning my bush. We’d polished off a bottle of Riesling, when I heard a timid squeaky voice coming from the direction of my neighbour’s garden. Ali and I walked over to look over the hedge, and there was Marjorie, Max’s mother. You’ll remember that Max is my neighbors 20 year old son. A strange boy, but very helpful.

“Oh, Fiona,” she said. “I need your advice.”

Ali, ever helpful, cast an eye over her flower beds and then chimed in, “Really madam, it’s alright. I can see your vulvodynia is blooming early this year. It just needs a little more water.” Ali’s English lessons are rather unconventional, however he does wonders in the garden.

“That’ll be all, Ali. I can take this from here.” I said, dismissing him to go back to tending to my bush.
Marjorie was gawping at me in a puzzled way trying to fathom what we were talking about. Ali’s Syrian accent is still quite strong.

“That strange woman you had in the garden this weekend. She wants Max to work on some magazine.”

“Oh, Amanda. Yes, she’s the editor at Pig and Pig Farmer Weekly. It’s the Washington Post of the agricultural sector. A bastion of the fourth estate,” and then I added doubtfully, “and one of the only media organisations to endorse Mr. Trump.”

“Oh,” she said, as though suddenly understanding. “I just wondered, what’s she really like? I mean, I don’t want my darling Max working for just anyone.”

I stifled the urge to say that that was exactly who Max should work for – anyone who would give him a job. ‘Just anyone’ seemed a perfect description, given his work ethic. He is a lovely boy, and very capable when it comes to tech tasks, but other than that his talents are best described as aesthetic.
“Hmmm, what’s she really like…” I mused. That was a tough one. I remembered my mother’s advice, and it could have been the Riesling talking, but responded “She has fine breasts. Very fulsome.”
“What,” said Marjorie, a little taken aback.

“A full bosom,” I reiterated. I really couldn’t think of anything else positive to say.

“That’s all you can tell me about her,” she stammered.

“Well,” I blundered on, “she sees things in black and white. Somewhat judgemental, some might say.” My mind slipped back to the incident with the adult toy and Hannibal, my dachshund. “It’s not surprising, I suppose,” I went on. “It’s all connected. Black and white, Friesians cattle, dairy farming and breasts…”

Marjorie stormed off, muttering and shaking her head. I have the feeling she’s never really approved of my lifestyle. I really can’t think why.

And in that very vein, I have a lovely self hypnosis file for my many friends who have recently been asking about breast enlargement. This is a lot of fun.

Self hypnosis is one tool for this, but there are a few other methods you can use. One of the most effective, though discrete is the use of soy milk.  If you choose a flavored one, like Vanilla So Good, and just be sure to drink a good size glass a day, you’ll find it gradually has a very beneficial impact. Soy contains isoflavones, a plant oestrogen that is similar to the estrogen that you humans produce. It is these isoflavones that give soy its cancer-prevention properties. Researchers have expressed concern that the estrogens in soy protein may affect the hormone levels in men – which suits us fine. Drinking more than usual quantities could result in breast growth in men. High consumption of soy protein, equivalent to over three litres of soy milk a day, could lead to hormonal shifts.

I’m not a fan of using HRT pharmacy. I find it’s not a good idea to put anything into your body that can’t at least phone you the following day and tell you how much they enjoyed it.

You can find the hypnosis file here: http://fionadobson.com/hypnosis/breast-enlargement-for-crossdressers-self-hypnosis/

There’s some food for thought. If you join the Premium Program we introduce you to a few practices that can stimulate these shifts. If you haven’t signed up yet, now is a great time to do so.

Have a wonderful weekend.
😊
FD

One simply has to service every member that comes my way.

Tonight I would like to introduce you to a wonderful hypnosis video I have just finished working on.  Now, I know what you are going to say. Just like Sebastian, my personal trainer – who incidentally has been hard at it these last few days working up a sweat – you’re probably thinking, “Fiona, you give and give! You are so good to your members!”

I feel it my destiny to work as hard as I can to satisfy every member that comes my way. Now, I know you think that’s hard to swallow, but I always do my best to allow my members needs to penetrate me to the very core! Even when I am spread very thin, I do my best to come up with something interesting for you.

Crossdressing Hypnosis - You Want To Be A Girl.
Crossdressing Hypnosis – You Want To Be A Girl.
So, have a listen and enjoy this one on me. And speaking of enjoying it on me, I am in Puerto Vallarta, in Mexico for a week. I’ve been bronzing myself on the beach for a couple of days, and there’s a young man heading my  way this very minute wanting to give me a massage. He tells me he has a friend, Juan, who can lend a hand, too! I have a sneaking suspicion these two are not members of the American Massage Therapists Association.

I suspect their massage would end in an abrupt and explosive way. That reminds me, I must rub a little more of this sun lotion on my breasts – they’re glowing with health already. I wouldn’t want to burn myself.

If you are a regular user of my website you’ll be aware that I have changed the look in the last few days. There’s a reason for this. I found to my surprise I was hacked. It was just the website, and they messed up a few menus and posts, but nothing more. All my member details are kept behind a very secure AES 256 bit encryption system. Anyone wanting to break into that should set aside approximately 40 billion years to run through the possible combinations. Given that the universe is only 15 billion years old, this seems to be good enough.

The result is that the website is now stronger, tighter, more highly lubricated and will even still respect you in the morning following use. We’ve still got one or two things to work on in there, but you’ll find most of the content is still there. Take a look at http://FionaDobson.com – If you’re as excited as Max was about it, you’ll need a towel.

Have a wonderful week.

If you are not a full member think about signing up – http://genr8tor.com/membership/ . When I see payment go through I will start you on your path. I work though everyone’s messages a couple of times a day and work to get you moving quickly. I know you’ll love it. Email me to let me know you’ve upgraded.

🙂

Fiona.

Breast Enlargement for Crossdressers – Self Hypnosis.

What every gurl needs! – Breast enlargement hypnosis started in the 1960’s and proved very popular. Recordings were available for women as a vinyl disk, and later as cassette recordings, to be used every day. After a period, typically about 12 weeks, measurable increased breast size was recorded and in many instances verified independently. Now you can do the same, through the power of the internet.

The technique employed in this video draws on the breast enlargement methods of the 1960’s and seventies – but is adapted for the crossdressing community. If you love what I’m doing, why not sign up for one of my feminization programs at http://FionaDobson.com

There are other ways to gain a full figure with great breasts. You could always buy some breast forms. These are a fun addition to any self respecting crossdressers wardrobe.

If you’d just like to meet CDs then I can also help, but introducing you to my Little Black Book. 😉

Let me grab a towel.

Here I am getting this post ready for you in the hotel, on a hot evening here in Chicago. I hardly know where to start, so much has been going on. I suppose I should start by telling you all about Sylvester and the other night.

I wiped my chin and said to Sylvester, “Oh, my goodness!”

It took me a moment to catch my breath. “It wasn’t as salty as I expected. I can hardly believe the quantity!”

“My tool is almost worn out!” Said Sylvester. He held the pliers, and dabbed his face with the napkin. Eating east coast lobster at a fish restaurant in Chicago is a great pleasure, but a very messy one. What did you think we were doing?

Sylvester was wrestling the last bit of lobster meat from within the claw. What a character he his. Always with a tool in his hand! As I am sure you know, he’s my mechanic and friend. We flew down together to visit Bernard in the hospital who was recovering in hospital..

I should explain. If you followed last weeks email you’ll know that Bernard managed to get himself Tazered in the arrivals lounge of O’Hare airport. That is far from where the drama ended.

He was rushed through to the hospital, and there – to my horror – they found that Bernard, who had become so excited by certain aspects of my physique, was in the middle of a heart attack. I had thought he looked rather like a freshly landed trout as he convulsed following his Tazering, but not being familiar with how one generally responds to a Tazer, I thought this quite normal.

Even the police officer who gave Bernard the jolt looked quite concerned. He even showed up in the hospital as Sylvester and I were visiting. Bernard was still unconscious, and here we were three days later.

The police officer walked into the private room I arranged for Bernard, and held out his hand. “Officer Speltman,” he said. “You can call me Sparky.”

“Sparky,” said Sylvester. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah… They gave me that nickname at the academy. It kinda stuck…”

“Well, Sparky,” I said, “I’m Bernard’s friend. I’m sure he would be grateful you came and visited. If he were, you  know… conscious.”

“I’m sorry he got the jolt.  I didn’t really have a choice in the circumstances.”

I took the business card Officer Speltman offered and said I would call him when we had further news. Then Sylvester and I went and found a hotel, and a fish restaurant at which to have some dinner.

“I still don’t quite understand why Bernard didn’t get up when the cop told him to,” said Sylvester.

“I think he was concerned about his clothing being… disarranged. He was in a state of some excitement.” I felt awkward telling Sylvester that Bernard had a prominent erection and was concerned about embarrassing himself when he stood up. “Let’s just say he was hard at work, when it happened.”

The following morning I had a call from the hospital with the worrying news that Bernard was extremely ill and that the hospital was doing it’s best to locate a heart for a transplant. I am, of course, quite shocked – as I am sure you are. I will keep you informed. (See what happened next by going here: http://fionadobson.com/bernard/zipper-job/)

In the meantime, I have a very special self hypnosis file for you tonight.

This file is all about taking it to the next level, so join me in a lovely relaxing self hypnosis exercise and have a listen. And of course, I will be sure to let you know about developments with Bernard.

🙂

Fiona

Bernard Gets A Shock.

Well, I hardly know where to start! This week was eventful, to say the very least. On Friday night last week, Bernard my photographer called me very urgently to tell me he needed me to get ready to fly to Hawaii to do a shoot.

Usually I have a little time to prepare, but we ended up flying out on Saturday morning to the spectacular Pacific island I love so very much. Poor little Bernard. He has been under a lot of pressure lately. What with all that travel, and deadlines, and goodness knows what. Anyway, by the time we headed back to Chicago, where we had a meeting on Tuesday, I had noticed he was not looking well.

Bernard has been very odd lately. As you likely know he’s about 48, I would guess. He’s like a sort of uncle to me, I suppose. However, of late he’s been very curious about me, and has been even a little amorous. It’s flattering, but I must say, when I play I usually like to play a little below my age.  I think you know what I mean.

Now, I often love to travel in yoga pants, as they are just so comfortable, and show off my legs nicely. I had noticed Bernard looking at me in a somewhat hungry way. I think you know, I do like to tease him a little, but – well, I really don’t think what happened was my fault. Really.

So, we arrived at O’Hare airport and were waiting for our bags  in the arrival area. What happened was rather extraordinary. I slipped off to the ladies, noticing how Bernard was watching my bum as I walked to the bathroom, and freshened my make up and swapped my travel tee shirt for a fresh one. I always do this, as I like to arrive feeling clean and fresh. I slipped on my heels, which I’d been carrying in my shoulder bag, and brushed my hair. I must say I did look very exciting.

When I stepped out of the bathroom some excitement was going on in the terminal, and I walked back to wear Bernard was. There was some sort of security people running about. Bernard was watching me as I walked, very poised in my heels, toward him. I could tell his excitement was all about me. He was sitting, clutching his Starbucks coffee in his lap.

Now, I have a pretty good idea when a guy looks at me and gets ‘excited’. Bernards baggy cargo shorts were, how should I phrase this, ‘a little disarranged’ by his excitement. His eyes were practically popping out of his head as I walked over to him, turned and sat beside him.

Now, that’s when things began to go wrong. One of those handsome police officers and his friend came running our way, and getting people to move to the far end of the arrivals hall. He shouted at us to stand up, and carry our bags to the far end of the hall. I stood up, but as I glanced at Bernard, I could see he was hesitating. I quickly realised that in his state of excitement it would be very embarrassing for poor little Bernard.

I  leaned over him, and his eyes dropped to my cleavage. I said, “Bernard, we really should go!”

He looked worried, and said, “Wait, errr… errr…”

And then this police officer was suddenly shouting for Bernard to stand up, and the poor dear was white as a sheet. Next thing I know Bernard is being Tazered and twitching like a freshly landed trout.

Later, when I got home and was telling Ali, who was working in my front garden, his first comment to me was, “No, they can’t do that!”

“Well, he did!” I explained.

“But he’s not even black!” said Ali.

“You can’t say that,” I admonished Ali. “In America every one is equally unequal under the law. You need to remember that!”

Silly old Ali! Anyway, Bernard ends up rushed off to hospital. It was terrible, although I must say the nurses had very nice little uniforms. I was quite taken with them. As I say, I can’t bring myself to feel responsible, but theren is a moral to this story. If a policeman asks you to move, even if you have an erection, it may be a good idea to comply!

I shall be sure to keep you informed about Bernard’s progress. He’s currently in the hospital. I am most concerned. I shall put together a nice outfit and go back to visit him after the weekend.

Now, that was not the main reason I am writing to you. I have a lovely new sound file for you.

I know you will want me to keep you informed of Bernard’s progress, so I shall be sure to let you know how he is.

Have a lovely weekend!

🙂

Fiona

PS – If you’re reading this on my blog, you can jump to here to find out what happened next.

You won’t believe what I found on my doorstep.

On the whole I do not approve of large people with too much facial hair looming in my doorway. Even more so at 3 am.

That was the sight that greeted me this morning. I enjoy my beauty sleep, most of all to protect my looks, but also so I am fresh in the morning to write to my members. And last night, as my very understanding wife was once again traveling, this time at a conference in somewhere called Poughkeepsie, I was enjoying a night of calm sleep wearing a burgundy camisole. When I heard the chiming of the door bell, I pulled on a thick robe and went downstairs to find the henge-like form of Amanda, my wife’s appalling friend, blocking the doorway, like a couch abandoned by someone who had been trying to get it through a door that was marginally too small.

Amanda was whimpering and mewling, upset about something. Often she comes over to talk to my wife at the oddest of hours. I do my best to keep out of the way when this happens, as Amanda seeps fluids from her body prodigiously, crying for the least of reasons. Whilst I am not without sympathy, I do find myself rather at a loss. What should I do? Put my arms around her? I simply don’t have the reach.

“What on earth’s the matter,” I said to the sobbing form before me. Amanda barged her way into the house, “I simply have to see your wife.”

“I’m sorry,” I said trying to look sympathetic. “She’s in Poughkeepsie.”

“Now, don’t be like that. I know you’re not telling the truth!” Her lower lip was quivering with emotion.

“Really,” I protested. “She is. There’s a conference.”

“I don’t believe it. In fact I don’t even think there’s such a place. It sounds made up. It’s like that time you told me that The Seventh Seal was a film about seal culling. You’re beastly to me sometimes!”

“I’m sorry, but really she is away. Can I help you?”

“I hardly think you’ll understand,” said Amanda.

“Try me,” I said reluctantly.

I shall summarize the issue. Amanda works as an editor on a trade publication. From the way she talks about her writing process, you’d think she worked at The New Yorker, not Pig And Pig Farmer Monthly – The trade publication of the pig farming industry. Anyway, her magazine has recently gone through a rebranding exercise and the latest edition has had a make over (there’s a joke in there somewhere), and has a new typeface in the masthead. To cut a long story short this months publication when out with the old masthead (if you don’t know what that is, really I wouldn’t worry). This was an error that, as editor,  she should have caught, but it slipped through. The publication was already in the mail by late yesterday night, and Amanda only discovered the problem as she thumbed through the latest copy before going to sleep. She had been tearing herself up about it all night.

“I hardly think the world will stop revolving just because you used Arial, rather than Verdana as a typeface, Amanda,” I said. “There may be some stern words exchanged over the trough, around the stys of the Midwest, but I think it’s an understandable error.”

Amanda disintegrated in a heap of tears, her massive bosom heaving and barely restrained by the industrial strength bra she wears. Before meeting Amanda I had no idea Carhartt – www.carhartt.com/  – made bras. For some reason it puts me in mind of The Hoover Dam.

I calmed the distraught woman down. The only reason I mention it is that throughout the process, she had absolutely no idea that beneath my pale blue robe I was wearing the most feminine of camisoles.

That, however is not the main reason I am writing. I wanted you to be aware of my latest hypnosis file which can be found on Youtube here:https://youtu.be/XREP5gHUypA

This is a cool file 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. As ever I would be delighted to see some pics.

Many of you receiving this are already in my Premium Program. If you are not, be sure to think about signing up soon!

🙂

Fiona

PS. If you need a free subscription to Pig And Pig Farmer Monthly please be sure to let me know. I can hook you up!