It’s wet. It’s hard.

crossdressing wig

It’s wet. It’s hard!

First of all I’d like to pass on my prayers and thoughts to all in floods in the US and other countries this week. It is a sobering thought that the death toll in Nepal is over 1200, Sierra Leone is over 1000 as well as those affected within Texas. Our thoughts here in the offices of FD go to all those suffering, where ever they may be, in this tragedy.

A couple of quick shout outs to members who have written to me this week. For Amber in Colorado, my best suggestion is that you should insert a straw and then push it up the bottom firmly. And, yes, I agree it can be very tricky finding the best way to remove the green stalk of the strawberry without making a mess.

Cheryl, in Texas, I would think you should probably have thought about that before choosing to wear heels as you stepped into the inflatable boat. Of course, our thoughts are with you and all our members in flood affected areas, but suitable evacuation wear probably doesn’t include stiletto heels at this point.

And lastly, yes, Michelle, in such situations it really is important to get consent from your partner, if not the hamster. A safe word might indeed be wise.

I am thrilled to report that Bernard has been discharged from hospital and is now convalescing at home. He was unable to join me at the advertising agency for this year’s summer costume party, but doubtless he’ll be back in circulation before long.

After finding the perfect costume, I decided to go a little retro and go as Xena Warrior Princess. I have always liked that look, and like Xena consider myself something of a problem solver. It’s just the kind of gurl I am. As SylvesterAliMax and I prepared for the party and got into our costumes Max’s mother, Marjorie, came over to see what all the excitement was about.

“Hello, Marjorie,” I said as she wandered into my kitchen. “We’re almost ready.”

“So, I can see,” she replied eyeing my breast plate. “And Max is doing a wonderful job of buffing up the brass of that breast plate.”

“He’s been most helpful,” I replied.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier if you’d taken it off first?” asked Marjorie.

“Oh, no,” I replied. “What with Max so hard at work…”

At that moment Ali, who you may remember looks after my garden, came in dressed in a set of Klan robes.

“Ali,” I said. “Are you sure that’s entirely appropriate?”

My Syrian friend replied, “I thought I looked very presidential.”

I could hardly fault that, and said so.

“Perhaps we should all go out and stand on the front lawn, Perhaps Marjorie could take a photograph of us from the landing upstairs? That window overlooks the garden and the picture will be lovely with the roses in the background.”

Marjorie agreed and went up the stairs. A moment later she called down to say she couldn’t get the window open, and that she needed a little help. The window seemed blocked by something from the outside.

“Don’t worry,” cried Ali. “I’ll get a ladder and clear it up.” With that, and a flurry of robes, Ali disappeared to get a ladder. Now the reason I explain all this is simple enough. You can imagine the scene when I was then standing on the front lawn, along with Sylvester dressed like a warrior from Middle Earth, about to go on a quest, Max as a Viking, and all of us staring up a ladder at Ali dressed as a KKK klansman, complete with hood, trying to open the upstairs window of my house on a sunny midweek afternoon.

As the sun glinted off my breastplate, we heard the silent hum of Amanda, my wife’s appalling friend, arriving unannounced to visit my wife – who is unfortunately travelling at present.

With the unmistakeable sound of tweed rustling she stepped from her car, open mouthed, and said “What on earth is going on here?”

“Ali’s taking care of a blockage,” I said helpfully, and stared up the ladder. Amanda followed my gaze.

“That’s Ali? I thought you’d finally upset the wrong people,” murmured Amanda with her usual distaste for everyone around her.

Ali’s voice drifted down, “Marjorie’s  Areolas are coming out beautifully this year.  I’ve not seen her garden from this angle before.”

Sometimes I wonder about Ali’s English lessons. Being a Syrian refugee, who was welcomed to Canada in somewhat disadvantaged circumstances, one might forget that he was also a professor in Damascus University prior to the war.

“I thought something dreadful was happening, as I drove up. I could see this crazy Klansman trying to break in through the window. I thought maybe… Honestly, those people should be bloody well hung!”

Looking up Ali’s klan robe, I replied, “Amanda, from where I’m standing, I think Ali’s pretty well…”

“Oh my god,” said Amanda. “You people make me boldly sick. I just dropped by to tell Max, he’s got the job at Pig And Pig Farmer Weekly as my editorial assistant.”

“Oh,” I replied. “What a sparkling start to a career in journalism. Today Pig and Pig Farmer Weekly, tomorrow the world!”

However, that is not the main reason I am writing to you. I thought I’d just let you know that Oakley Dale has put another of her wonderful “How To Feminize Your Boyfriend” broadcasts up. You’d be surprised at all the entertaining things Oakley puts up! You can find it here.

Have a wonderful weekend,

😊

Fiona

Rock The Boat  1974 Hues Corporation
What’s your evacuation wear? What looks best in a inflatable? Being evacuated? Send us a pic for the website! FD
Are you reading the exciting adventures of Andy in “Clothes Maketh The Man”?

Manipulated and taken advantage of by the evil Devina, Andy finds himself compromised into dressing. You’ll never believe what follows!
If you haven’t yet dived into the extraordinary serialised feminization adventure you can find it here:

Read the story – Clothes Maketh The Man http://fionadobson.com/clothes-maketh-the-man-part-1/

Let’s face it, who among us hadn’t had that same thought from time to time – “Heaven’s to Betsy, I wish I had an enormous rack!”.

How convenient it would be to be able to develop an enormous pair of breasts, slip into a silky blouse and wander about crossdressing all morning, before changing back into your overalls for the afternoon shift at the iron foundry. How perfect is that!

Check out our page  of breast formsand accessories for adding a little shape to your chest. HERE

Continuing crossdressing adventures, and leotards!

Hi,

I am pleased to report that Bernard is making a slow but healthy recovery and seems to be over the worst after his unfortunate encounter with a carrot. I visited him this morning and when I arrived home from the hospital I found my wife’s appalling friend Amanda at my house. Max had let her in, something I’d warned him about, but he seemed to have forgotten. I was a little irritated as I had a lot on, and had to get to a jazzercise class which would start shortly.

As I hurried in Max silently mouthed his apology.

“Hello, Amanda,” I said as I heard her beige trouser suit rustle in my direction and she appeared from the living room. “Have you been having fun on the newsdesk?”

“Why, what have you heard?” she replied nervously.

I couldn’t really imagine what fun one could have on the newsdesk of Pig And Pig Farmer Weekly, but didn’t waste too much time thinking about it.

“I wasn’t expecting you today,” I said. Had I known she’d be coming I would have been out.

“Well, I thought I’d stop by. Leo’s with me today,” she said, and glanced over her shoulder into the living room.

I should explain, and I’d like to do this with the sympathy and delicacy this subject deserves, that Leo is what we used to call ‘developmentally disadvantaged.’ He is a very sweet young man, but has never really progressed beyond the early stages of mental development. Now, I should point out that in Canada we have a very inclusive approach to those less fortunate than ourselves, and we embrace those less able than the rest of us. It’s a point on which we stand with great national pride. Not withstanding my recent unfortunate episode with a homeless person, I believe we measure ourselves as a nation by how we treat the less fortunate. To us, universal healthcare at no cost whatsoever, for example, is an absolute no brainer. Which, in it’s way makes what happened this afternoon even more difficult to relate.

I made my apologies to Amanda and said I had to hurry to get ready for my Jazzercise class, and had to change, and so hurried upstairs. I had washed and prepared a few things, and as I gathered them together and put them in my bag, I realised I’d left some clothes lying in the living room.

I called down to Max, who came upstairs.

“Max,” I said, “I seem to have left some things in the living room. Some tights and a leotard, they’re probably in the living room. Can you be a sweetheart and see if you can find them. I think they may be lying over the back of the chair by the window.

With that I changed out of my office clothes and into a light summer dress. I’d slip into my dancewear at the studio.

It was then that I heard a commotion from downstairs, and the slamming of the front door. From my bedroom window I saw Amanda hurry to her Prius, and help her brother Leo into the passenger seat. I couldn’t think what had caused such a commotion, and a moment later Max was politely knocking on my bedroom door.

I opened it and stepped out.

“What on earth was that all about?” I asked.

“I think I must have said something to upset Amanda… I don’t know what I did. She just erupted.”

“Max, calm down. I’m sure it’s nothing.  Just tell me what you said.”

Max followed me downstairs, and recounted his words.

“I just walked into the living room and said to Amanda that you were changing upstairs and I had come down to find a leotard that was lying around in the living room.”

“That’s all you said?”

“Yes,” he said looking hurt.

“Those were your exact words?” I pressed him.

For a moment he closed his eyes, and then in a moment of reflection he said, “No, wait a moment… I came through that door, and then I said “Is there a leotard lying around in here?”… And that’s when she took off in a huff!”

“Oh,” I replied.  “You don’t think she thought you were referring to her brother, do you? I mean, his name is Leo… and he is… well, you know.”

We looked at each other ashamed of ourselves. I felt pretty sure I had an awkward phone call ahead to make to Amanda.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. I thought I’d drop you a line and tell you about some of the spectacular leotards that you can find on my website. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. That’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it? They’re versatile and fun, and as you’ll see can be worn either in a very femme way, or quite an androgynous manner. Check out the page on my sitethat tells you about them and you’ll find they’re fun and can make you look great.

Till next week.

😊

Fiona

If your mum comes in while you’re watching this, switch to porn whatever you do. It’s just easier to explain away!

Fire and Furry.

I’m emailing you having just returned from the heart unit, where I am happy to relate that Bernard is in the process of recovery from his rather unfortunate incident with a carrot.  This is much to the relief of Max, who for a moment thought he may have blood (or rather carrot juice) on his hands after shooting Bernard with the aid of Sebastian’s motorcycle. If this is all a bit confusing you may be able to catch up here.

I arrived home to find Sylvester sitting at my kitchen table looking more confused than a Trump supporter who had recently learned that he’d won a months free food at Hooters, only to discover that he had to complete a skill testing question asking him to calculate the area of a square measuring 2 inches by 2 inches, before being eligible to collect his prize. I asked Sylvester what could possibly be wrong.

“It’s this business with North Korea. My dad was out there years ago, and that didn’t go so well,” said Sylvester.

Now, in case you’ve been living under a rock – which might be the safest place to be under the circumstances – then you might be unaware that people are talking about the possibility of nuclear war. At times like this one is forced to ask the big questions. ‘What’s it all for?’, and ‘Isn’t there hope for humanity?’, and ‘What does one really wear for Armageddon?’.

As I looked down at my troubled friend, I was forced to conclude that one should always look on the bright side, and dress up for the occasion. Seeing Sylvester’s legs, also brought something else to mind, and consider that this is a man who looks like a gorilla and a fridge got together and created a baby.
I am of course talking about the need to deal with body hair when one crossdresses. The need to look one’s best supersedes all other considerations as the nuclear clock ticks toward midnight. Sylvester’s legs are very hairy, and if one is to meet one’s end looking fabulous either waxing it off, or at least disguising the body hair is a great place to start.

Not all of my members are able to shave their legs. For those who discretely dress without the knowledge of their partners, suddenly appearing without leg hair may be something of a give away. One member did successfully claim that their new swimming regime required them to remove as much body hair as possible, but this isn’t going to fly for some members.

In the quest to disguise body hair the fishnet pantyhose are your friends. Better still, try a fishnet body stocking. No one should be without one, in my opinion. If you’re unable to find one locally, you can follow this link and order one on my website.

So, the question remains, faced with the unpleasant eventuality of nuclear annihilation, what would your outfit be? Personally, I think nice summer dress and some heels, pretty pink bra and panties. Feel free to let me know.

Now don’t forget, you can now join My Little Black Book for just $2.95 a month by using this link – https://gumroad.com/l/mMgcZ.  Be sure to let me know once you’ve paid and I’ll get you set up.

😊

Fiona

Bernard goes beyond.

Bernard goes beyond.

Hi,

Well, I’m sure you’re aware of the latest events around Bernard being shot in the chest with a carrot – if not you can catch up here – which has left us all very worried about his health.

To get you up to date, it wasn’t until several hours after he’d been carted off in the ambulance, following Max getting so upset about what he described as Sebastian and I doing yoga ‘doggy style’in my garden, that I managed to get through to the emergency department. The head nurse left me on hold as she went to see what had happened to poor Bernard.

Now, as you likely know, Bernard recently had a heart transplant following a Tazering incident, and we were all most concerned that he may have been severely hurt by the flying vegetable. Additionally, Max was getting increasingly worried about the idea that he may have committed a crime.

I had the phone in my kitchen on speaker, as Max and I waited to be transferred. I remember the moment in some detail, as I had just finished freshening my nail polish and I couldn’t very well hold the cell. Really, though, that scarlet color is simply to die for!

I asked Max to paint my toe nails, as I waited on hold. I was standing there on one leg, my other foot on a bar stool, my tight leggings showing the well defined shape of my legs, as Max painted my toes. You know, you might think me a little cruel, but I do get a little thrill from the fact that his eyes would drift up my leg from time to time. Torturing the puppies is a secret pleasure of mine!

“Is that Fiona Dobson,” came the nurses voice.

“It most certainly is,” I replied.

“Yes, Ms. Dobson. Bernard has you listed as his primary contact.”

“Of course he does!” I said, attempting to keep the frustration from my voice.

“Well, Ms. Dobson, I’m sorry to tell you this…”

At that moment Max’s hand shakily managed to paint one of my toes.

“Just a moment,” I said, then turning to Max, “for goodness sake, Max. Please be more attentive!”

I turned back to the phone, “Go on, dear,” I said.

“Yes,” she continued, “I’m sorry but I have to tell you…”

“Max!” I shouted, as he slipped once more. “Do be careful!”

The nurse continued, “I’m sorry but Bernard is no longer with us.”

There was a pause, and Max fell pale. I took the phone off speaker mode, and said to the nurse, “But … How?”

“He’s no longer in the emergency department,” continued the nurse. “He’s been transferred to the Intensive Care Unit, he’s scheduled for heart surgery later today.”

Now, I am sure you know I am not an unkind individual. However, I do confess I thought briefly about leaving Max in his growing sense of panic. Mentally, he was already gathering a few things and ready to head to Mexico.

I arranged to visit in the morning, and hung up the phone.

“Don’t worry, Max. Bernard’s having surgery. I’m sure he’s got a good chance of a full recovery.  It was a nasty accident, that’s all. We can go to see him in the morning.”

With that, Sebastian entered the kitchen, doing his very best to be helpful. “I feel I should come, too. After all, it was my exhaust pipe from which he was hurt. I feel a kind of karmic obligation.”

“How thoughtful you are,” I said. “Max, my nails aren’t going to paint themselves!”

“Perhaps I could take him one of my nice recordings of relaxing sounds. That’s sure to make him feel better. Fiona, what’s the most relaxing sound you can think of. Whale song? The sound of the wind through a forest?”

“I think the sound of the door closing as Amanda leaves my house following one of her visits. That always leaves me feeling better,” I said.

“I think whale song might be more relaxing,” murmured Sebastian.

With that we did our best to put our fears for Bernard to rest. Max continued to do my toe nails and we resolved to visit the hospital the following morning.

And so it was that we decided to visit the following morning, Max and Sebastian bringing both guilt and karmic balance, and I some perfectly painted nails and a rather smart pleated skirt.

I shall let you know how things went next week.

😊

Fiona

You can now join My Little Black Book for just $2.95 a month and start connecting with CDs and Admirers right away.

Julie is working hard to get this new price structure in place and to help more of our members connect with each other. If you’ve never read her story you can do so here.  Julie also has a pretty cool Tumblr page here: https://julierenner-cd.tumblr.com/

With over 400 members spread throughout the world you are sure to connect with one of this growing network of friends and people sharing your interest.

Use the link below to sign up and then email me to let me know, and I will set you up immediately, so you can start emailing and connecting with others right away.

Join My Little Black Book – $2.95 a month.

If you’re in the Little Black Book already, you know what it’s like to be so hot for her… At just $2.95 you can’t loose!
Are you reading the exciting adventures of Andy in “Clothes Maketh The Man”?

Manipulated and taken advantage of by the evil Devina, Andy finds himself compromised into dressing. You’ll never believe what follows!
If you haven’t yet dived into the extraordinary serialised feminization adventure you can find it here:

Read the story – Clothes Maketh The Man http://fionadobson.com/clothes-maketh-the-man-part-1/

Max, we appreciate your service.

Before I go any further I would like to say that like my valued members I stand with all our brave people serving in the military regardless of color, gender or race. I strongly believe that anyone who has ever been exposed to the realities of conflict knows very well, we have other more important things to get on with, rather than focusing on distractions that do nothing but further the questionable agenda of one sad old man. Our servicemen protect our rights and freedoms – which is kind of the point, isn’t it?

I’ve received several emails from members of the services who are members of FionaDobson.com. All I can do is reassure them that their service is appreciated and that this will pass. Calmer heads will prevail.

Now, let me see if I can give you the short strokes to get you caught up with the exciting happenings here in Montreal. You may remember last weekBernard, my photographer, had been shot in the chest with a nefarious carrot. Unknown to me at the time Max had pushed the offending vegetable  up Sebastians exhaust pipe after becoming agitated while watching Sebastian and I doing yoga.

As the ambulance raced off Max sidled up to me, looking the picture of guilt ridden youth, and said “Fiona, there’s something you should know.”

I bent  down and picked up the carrot and frowned.

“What on earth is a carrot doing here?” I said, as the ambulance siren faded in the distance.

“Actually, I might know something about that…” said Max, where upon he told me the whole grissly story.

“But what on earth possessed you to put it there?” I asked.

“It was seeing the two of you in the garden. Seeing you do yoga, doggy style!”

“I think you mean downward dog. Well, these leggings don’t leave much to the imagination,” I mused.

At this point Sebastian, who had been inspecting his motorcycle for damage, wandered over.

“Pretty bad luck, that. You don’t often hear of someone being carroted to death.”

Several years ago a young man I was acquainted with had a nasty incident with a squash (that’s a marrow if you’re in the UK), but I thought it better not to mention it.

“You don’t think he’ll die, do you?” Asked Max.

“He was doing a pretty good impression of it, when he was choking here in the driveway, three minutes ago,” said Sebastian. “I always told him he should eat more vegetables.”

“He’s only just recovered from a heart transplant. I think the sooner we dispose of the evidence the better. Max, why don’t you get rid of that carrot and if anybody asks, the bike just backfired,  ok?”

“Why?” Said Max, looking genuinely niaive.

“Because, Max, if the wrong people ask questions, someone might get the idea you accidently murdered poor Bernard.”

“Urgh! Murdered?” Gasped Max.

Sebastian interjected at this point, “I’m not sure you can ‘accidentally’ murder someone.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Stammered Max.

“Of course you didn’t. But anyone dumb enough to believe that Bernard was shot in the chest with a carrot is dumb enough to believe it was murder. It’s better all round just to say there was a bang and Bernard collapsed.”

I handed Max the carrot. “I suggest you feed the evidence to your rabbit.”

😊

Fiona

You can now join My Little Black Book for just $2.95 a month and start connecting with CDs and Admirers right away.

Julie is working hard to get this new structure in place and help more of our members have a place to connect. If you’ve never read her story you can do so here.  Julie also has a pretty cool Tumblr page here: https://julierenner-cd.tumblr.com/

With over 400 members spread throughout the world you are sure to connect with one of this growing network of friends and people sharing your interest.

Use the link below to sign up and then email me to let me know, and I will set you up immediately, so you can start emailing and connecting with others right away.

Join My Little Black Book – $2.95 a month.

Ian Dury - Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll
Grey is such a pity.
Are you reading the exciting adventures of Andy in “Clothes Maketh The Man”?

Manipulated and taken advantage of by the evil Devina, Andy finds himself compromised into dressing. You’ll never believe what follows!
If you haven’t yet dived into the extraordinary serialised feminization adventure you can find it here:

Read the story – Clothes Maketh The Man http://fionadobson.com/clothes-maketh-the-man-part-1/

If you’re looking to connect with others crossdressers and chat, Skype or meet, then you should definitely check out My Little Black Book.

That aside, there’s some great people in My Little Black Book,and you can have a lot of fun with it. Give it a try for just $2.95 a month and you are sure to make some interesting connections. JR

Max shoved his carrot up Sebastian’s exhaust pipe!

What an extraordinary week it has been, with the most exciting things happening about the place.  But before I get into that, I will first answer a couple of quick questions from my valued members.

Yes, Ellie in Texas, when you have a costume party to celebrate your ten years NRA membership a piñata is a very suitable idea for a game, though we do not generally feel that putting ammunition in it as prizes is a very good idea. Perhaps crystal wine goblets or a decanter would be better.

Olive, in Halifax in Yorkshire, we find the best remedy is to plunge your plums in boiling water. Both Julie and I enjoy making jam, too! What a small world it is.

As we revel in a beautiful summer here in North America it’s definitely time to delve into your wardrobe and find a mini skirt. Whether it’s to do a private set of selfies, or get out in the park and brave going out in public, the summer gives us all a great excuse to expose our legs to sunshine and get a beautiful tan. You’ll find one of my very popular self hypnosis recordings that so many of you love right HERE.  Of course, in the Premium Program there’s many to help you along. If you’re already a member I hope you’re getting the most out of these. If you’re thinking about joining the Premium Program enjoy the self hypnosis filehere and see how you feel. It’s likely to harden your resolve to getting into a lovely skirt.

And speaking of hardening my resolve, Sebastian my personal trainer was over at my place just yesterday. He came over to give me a yoga class, and afterwards he gave me a very enjoyable massage. I was out in the sun, in the back garden, with Sebastian rubbing some oils into my aching muscles, when I noticed Max, my neighbours 20 year old son, watching us from his bedroom window, which overlooks my garden.

I should point out that Max has shown growing curiosity about me in recent months.  He’s not quite sure what to make of me, I think. Either way, seeing Sebastian rubbing my thighs so intimately seemed most disturbing for him. Whilst Sebastian was hard at work, as it were, Max was suffering.

Unknown to me at the time, Max was indeed so agitated that he went downstairs to his mother’s kitchen, took a large carrot, and then went out into my driveway, and pushed it right up Sebastian’s exhaust pipe! Sebastian, I should say, rides a little Honda scooter. It’s very cute. Not as big as Sylvester’schopper, of course,  but that’s another story.

Nothing good ever comes from jamming vegetables places they shouldn’t be. Believe me, I should know, my cousin works in an emergency room at the hospital. Anyway, after inserting his nefarious carrot, Max returned to his bedroom.

Sebastian was just finishing me off, (phrasing), and our yoga session was coming to a very happy ending.  It was not a minute too soon, as Bernard, my photographer, was due at my place to discuss a shoot we have next week for one of the advertising agency clients. I like to work from home, and Bernard often drops by.

I was just seeing Sebastian off, when Bernard arrived. Sebastian straddled his scooter and hit the starter, just as Bernard was walking up my driveway. There was a phut, phut, BANG!

Next thing I knew Bernard was lying on the ground gasping and clutching his heart. You may remember he had a heart transplant just about a year ago, after an unfortunate Tazering incident at O’Hare.

At first I thought the shock of the backfire had given him a heart attack. Then I saw the carrot, fallen to the ground, beside Bernard, who was by now convulsing and looking decidedly peeky.

“Hold on, Bernard,” I said as calmly as I could. “I’ll call an ambulance!”

He gurgled as first Sebastian and then Max, appearing from next door ran to him to help.

As I rushed inside Sebastian was telling Bernard that he wished he’d brought his homeopathic first aid kit. This didn’t seem to comfort Bernard, who was gurgling and coughing up blood.

I called the ambulance from the phone I’d left in my kitchen, and then hurried back to the increasingly pale form of Bernard lying in the driveway. He was reaching out in front of him, clutching at the air.

“It’s OK,” I said as calmly as I could. “The ambulance is coming.”

“I can see a light,” said Bernard, his eyes glazed over.

“Go toward the light,” said Sebastian. “Go toward the light!”

“Are you sure?” I said. “I thought you were supposed to go away from the light.”

“They’re calling me,” babbled Bernard, still clutching his chest, but fading from pale to a blue color. With that he seemed to go limp and give a final sigh.

A moment later the ambulance pulled into my driveway. The ambulance service here really is very good, and they have such very nice uniforms.

They loaded Bernard into the ambulance. Max was flapping around like an old woman, fawning over Bernard, and looking terribly distraught. As the ambulance pulled away and headed toward the hospital, I thought he was going to run and get his bicycle and follow it. Even then, I realised something was amiss.

As the ambulance siren faded Max turned to me and said, “Fiona, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Now, I’m going to tell you exactly what happened next in my next newsletter, because it really was so extraordinary. Let’s just say that the truth really does set you free, but at what price?

I hope you’re having a better weekend than we are!

😊

Fiona

THE MIXTURES : "THE PUSHBIKE SONG" (1970)
Sebastian’s Health Tip For The Week: There’s no better way to get out and about and keep in shape than on a bike.

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

We’re firming up our members.

First of all, I feel I should address a matter of concern to many of my members. Angela in Arkansas asks, ‘Is it possible that White House spokesperson Sean Spicer and Sarah Huckabee Sanders are the same person? I have never seen them appear on camera together.’

I am so glad you asked me that. Naturally I am a keen commentator on political matters – my views being held in very high regard in some circles. I have several sources close to this matter and let’s just say that you’ll be seeing a lot less of ‘Sean’ in the coming months. I protect the confidentiality of my members very diligently as you know, so I am precluded from saying more. Suffice to say that Sean may be accepting himself as he is, and creating himself as he wishes. I can neither confirm or deny whether he is a member of my programs.

This weekend I have organised a barbeque for my friends. Sadly, my wife is travelling, leaving me to entertain myself. As I slipped into a new bikini and tiny pink skirt today, I found myself considering how very lucky I am.

I have such an eccclectic group of friends. Sylvester with his unusual tattoos and enormous chopper. Bernard, my photographer always wanting to expose himself. Sebastian, my personal trainer, who incidentally has just taken up pole vault. I very unusual choice of sport.

And of course, who could forget Max and Ali – still rummaging about in the arboretum looking for his hoe. This weekend I am also playing host to Katia Thornwood and Julie, who’s been hard at work (literally) stimulating new male members.

Perhaps I should explain that. We had a special promotion last week, for father’s day. This resulted in some wonderful new men joining my Little Black Book as admirers. I am thrilled to see the list of members growing and firming up all the time.

I said to Julie just the other day, “Julie, you need to take the members in hand, firm them up and make them grow!” She’s been breathlessly applying herself.

As my friends started to arrive for the barbecue and Sylvester busied himself at the grill, I joined the boys in conversation.

“But, Sebastian, darling! Why pole vaulting. It seems so… I don’t know, suggestive.”

“Not at all!” He insisted, turning his sausage on the grill. “Personally, I think it shows great self coonfidencel”

“Well, if you say so,” I said. “Mind you, it’s all a little dangerous, if you ask me. Plunging your great pole in a slot and getting up like that. It reeks of over compensation!”

“Its all about keeping it stiff,” said Sylvester, ever helpfull

Sebastian glanced at him, doubtfully.

“We’ve got pills for that,” chimed in Ali, from where he was showing Max the difference between a Chrysanthemum and Chlamydia.

Ali has been doing rather well with his English classes. One would never guess he arrived from Syria just six months ago.

 

“Sebastian ,” he called over toward the grill. “You’re obviously overcompensating, my young friend. I have some friends who can help you with that.”

I sometimes wonder what they teach him at that English class. Nonetheless, his integration seems to be coming along nicely.

I’m watching as Max tries to engage Katia in polite conversation. Now that really is the lamb attempting to lie down with the lion. I think I should go and interpose myself between them before Max ends up being served up on a skewer.

For those of you who don’t know Katia, she is a somewhat stern woman. Statuesque and beautiful, but very commanding. Her wonderful travelogue is being published on my website at http://FionaDobson.com in episodes – look for The Travelogue Of Katia Thornwood. You’ll be hearing more from her. Suffice to say that her holiday entertainments went far beyond looking at temples in Cambodia.

I hope you have a lively weekend and enjoy the summer weather. By the way, as I mentioned, we’ve had an influx of male  members (phrasing) in My Little Black Book. Now’s a great time to join, if you’re not already a member.

We have a major expansion of our website underway. My objective is that there should be something new almost daily for you to check into and occupy yourself with. Check it out and come back whenever you feel a little femme. You’ll love what I’m doing!

😊

Fiona

Imagine if some of your graduating class could see you dressed. What might they think?
Are you reading the exciting adventures of Andy in “Clothes Maketh The Man”?

Manipulated and taken advantage of by the evil Devina, Andy finds himself compromised into dressing. You’ll never believe what follows!
If you haven’t yet dived into the extraordinary serialised feminization adventure you can find it here:

Read the story – Clothes Maketh The Man http://fionadobson.com/clothes-maketh-the-man-part-1/

Not yet signed up for the Premium Program? Take your time, but when you’re ready jump in and join the fun.  You can sign up for full membership – US$ 35 a year – here: http://fionadobson.com/premium-program/

A man at my backdoor, with an enormous tool in his hand!

As I started work on this today I was surprised to find my neighbors son, Max, at my back door. He was standing their holding an enormous tool in his hand. It quite took my breath away!

I said to him, “There’s no way you’re coming inside with that!”

He was, however quite insistent. I explained to him that if he had to go about waving that enormous thing of his, he should try seeing it was properly lubricated and prepared. Finding some oil I took it in my hands and worked the lubricant into it.

Now that I think about it, I don’t think Max had experienced someone doing this to him. A crossdressing gurl just taking control like that. I guess he may have felt a little over excited. who can tell? Life is full of these unanswered quesions. Like why my friends always use my rear entrance, and not the front door.

Max seemed to enjoy the attention, and I knew he was excited to get inside. As I worked the lubricant deeper and deeper, and stroked his tool I could see he was becoming more agitated. These young boys are so easily overwhelmed. It’s so important to maintain eye contact, when someone is getting near the peak of  their anticipation, don’t you think? I gave him the can of oil and left him to it.

I turned my back on him, and said I had to get an email off to my friends, and the sight of me walking away from him was simply too much. I think he took one look at my bum in my tight leggings and was squirting his fluid everywhere! What a mess. Anyway, I have to get on with this email! When I first asked him to help me with some repairs and chores this was not what I had in mind.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. I thought it might be nice to focus on two things in this email. The first will be moisturizing and the second foundation. These are two essentials for anyone wishing to feminize their skin a little. Mositsturizing takes care of the tone of the skin, while foundation looks after color.

Regardless of age, male skin is often left untreated and dry because we are taught from an early age to wash, often using harsh soaps and no further treatment is really encouraged. What I’d like to encourage here is the regular use of a moisturizing lotion around the eyes and the sides of the mouth and nose area..

In your on going quest to feminize, this can be quite enjoyable. Those who have been following me a while will know I am a fan of gentle and subtle change. To start moisturizing every day, following a shave and brushing your teeth, is an almost undetectable but enjoyable process. You will soon find yourself feeling more feminine and your skin quality improving. Likely no-one but you will notice, but you will feel a little more feminine with this simple start to the day.

Now, as far as foundation goes, this is possibly something you don’t want to put on everyday as it is likely to be noticed. Although later, as you become a little more proficient at bringing subtle changes into you life, you may want to start using a little foundation each day, at first it is something that you can start practicing in private at home.

Doing self portrats? Foundation takes away the shiny reflections of your skin in photos. Yes, if you are into taking selfies when you dress, you need to know about foundation! To some degree you can achieve the same effect with a little talcum powder, but too much and you look very pale. Rather as though you’d walked in on Max playing with his tool, actually.

You can buy foundation at virtually any drug store. If you have to, asking the assistant to help you, ‘for your wife’, you’ll find they jump right in. Now, while the safest thing to do is go for a general mid tone foundation, at least to start, if you do need to choose a particular color here’s a helpful tool that will get you started: http://www.temptalia.com/foundation-matrix/scratch First choose an undertone, and then your skin tone, and it will list a range of the most available foundation types, along with prices etc..

Next time you decide to take a few selfies be sure to put on a little foundation first. It will make all the difference! For a great tutorial about how to apply foundation, try this Youtube video: https://youtu.be/TyeMrEYcMoQ

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.

Looking back to the early 1990’s, this video looks a bit different today.

Max is teabagging Sebastian in my basement!

I arrived home on Saturday morning to a house full of guests. Max, my next door neighbours 20 year old son, had let himself in as he often does these days, Sebastian had arrived early for my yoga session, and as I walked into the kitchen, there was Sylvester clutching a twelve incher in his hand.

“That looks very meaty,” I said as Sylvester stood there looking proud.

“You know how much I love a good sub,” replied Sylvester. “Salami, tomato, olives… this is twelve inches of perfection.

If I had a quarter for every time I’d heard that, I thought quietly to myself. Actually, I’d only have a dollar twenty five, but all the same…

I slipped into a light skirt and a tee shirt, to be ready for yoga, and then asked Sylvester if he’d like to join Sebastian and I on the yoga mats. I should say that it’s rather like watching a fridge try to do a downward dog, when Sylvester does yoga. The will is there, though.

“Where on earth are Max and Sebastian,” I asked Sylvester wondering if perhaps Max would be joining us on the yoha mats.

“Max is teabagging in the basement,” said Sylvester.

“Really,” I said a little surprised.

“Yes. I had no idea Max knew so much about tea. He’s showing Sebastian how to mix a few different tea types and make a few tea bags. He has some black tea, oil of bergamot, vanilla and all sorts of things.”

“Oh,” I said, somewhat relieved. “How creative. We should see if they want to do yoga with us.”

However, that’s not the main reason I am writing to you. I’m sure that you have experienced, the same as many of us, feelings of embarrassment following dressing. Well, you’ll be pleased to know you don’t need to. In the video below I have prepared a short hypnosis for you that will help relieve those feelings. Have a listen and see how you get along.

Have a great week, and remember – “Accept yourself as you are, and create yourself as you wish.”

🙂

Fiona

This is great self hypnosis video to help you release the awkwardness of dressing.
Don’t forget, I’ve got many free videos for you on Youtube, and soundfiles on Soundcloud.

Sylvester needs some help polishing his chopper.

If you haven’t done so already, Email me to upgrade to the Premium Program.

I couldn’t help thinking, as I clutched my banana, that Sylvester really could use a better diet. He seems to exist on burgers, and grilled cheese.

I was standing in his workshop, having dropped off a fruit basket, thinking it would add some welcome vitamin C to his diet. So many of my friends succumb to the cold during the winter, and I’m sure a fruit basket staves of the flu for many of us,and personally,  I find a good banana a lifesaver at times, don’t you?

I happened to have arrived at Sylvester’s workshop on a slow day at his business, and he was busying himself polishing his chopper. He was breathlessly working away at it, wanting it to be in great shape before the first days of spring.

Quite suddenly, I felt I simply had to help, so I found myself leaning over his great machine, polishing away as only a good gurl knows how. I must say, my tight leggings and my slim hands working away on the surface of the rich round pipe raised a few beads of sweat on my brow!

Sylvester becomes full of anticipation, during these final days of winter. He seems to become agitated at the promise of the excitement of the spring sunshine when he and all his big hairy friends can get together and show each other their choppers. It’s such a male ritual, that I feel quite intimidated by it all. It fairly takes my breath away.

Having said that, climbing astride a throbbing beast and feeling it thrust itself down the highway has always been a secret desire of mine. As a young thing my mother once caught me on a friends ride, and I can only say my cheeks were burning red with shame as she chastised me for my foolishness.

Yes, I’ve often inserted myself into the leather clad world of the kings of the road. And the queens for that matter.

That is not, however, the main reason I am writing to you tonight. I have recently put up a new episode of Playtime With Fiona. This one helps you get into a little shaving that will make you feel great. These are fun activities you can enjoy between tasks in the Premium Program, or even just when you feel like a little adventure. The video below is the most recent, however you can always find some here: http://fionadobson.com/tag/playtime-with-fiona/

Have a wonderful weekend, and if your excited about the onset of Spring be sure to polish up your equipment!

🙂

Fiona

Playtime With Fiona - Get out your razor and slip into something silky!
Don’t forget, I’ve got many free videos for you on Youtube, and soundfiles on Soundcloud.

Surviving Bowling Green.

First of all, to all my concerned friends, I am safe – there’s no need to worry! I survived the Bowing Green Massacre. It was a close thing, but I am ok. I have yet to hear from Bernard, my photographer, but Sylvester, Ali, Sebastian are texted me to say they are ok. Phew!

We’re experiencing a little bit of a cold spell here in the glorious city of Montreal. I keep my house quite warm as I like to do yoga and workout in my large airy living room. Recently my next door neighbour’s twenty year old son, Max, has been joining me to do yoga and then study in the calm of this lovely room.

I was doing some stretches just this morning, when Max was there with his books.  He’s quite a diligent student, and is working on his Shakespearean era literature. He always seems to be here, with his nose pressed between the covers of a good book.

As I executed a perfect forward fold from the hips, I asked him if he had a favorite passage.

He looked at me thoughtfully, and then read from one of his text books:

When it lay fallow, smothered in dust,

Ignoble passion turned to lust.

And from his goodly wholesome thighs,

Came forth his manhood of great size.

And finding bended willing game,

He plunged himself into her frame,

With heaving buttocks and strong intent,

He thrust and ground till he was spent.

“Well,” I said, a little taken aback, “that’s very nice, if you like that sort of thing.” At that point I felt I should return to my workout, and did so until the next interruption – my wife’s appalling friend, Amanda phoning thinking my wife had returned from a business trip.

“I’m sorry, Amanda, she’s still in Costa Rica,” I said.

“I don’t blame her,” she replied. “Probably trying to get away from this cold snatch.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied.

“This cold weather.”

“Oh, I see. I thought you said…”

“It’s a cold snatch. Swept in from the north.”

“I’m sure it is,” I said and returned to my workout leaving Amanda to get on with writing this weeks breaking news for Pig And Pig Farmer Weekly. Doubtless Kelly Anne Conway was on the other line to Amanda with an exclusive story for her.

Now, if you’re looking for some great leggings, you’re going to want some with imaginative colors and patterns. I have just what you need.  These will look great in the gym or the yoga studio, check out my friends here – http://bit.ly/2kqitpn   They have some lovely designs. Whether you want them to wear to a yoga class, or just to hang out in at home, they’re perfect.

If you’re already a member of my Premium Program you’re enjoying some great offerings. If not, perhaps it’s time to sign up!

Have a great Superbowl Weekend.

🙂

Fiona

PS. Just got a text from Bernard. It’s all good!

Don’t forget, I’ve got many free videos for you on Youtube, and soundfiles on Soundcloud.
Are you reading the exciting adventures of Andy in “Clothes Maketh The Man”?

Manipulated and taken advantage of by the evil Devina, Andy finds himself compromised into dressing. You’ll never believe what follows!
If you haven’t yet dived into the extraordinary serialised feminization adventure you can find it here:

Read the story – Clothes Maketh The Man

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Urine a pile of trouble, Fiona.

“Urine a pile of trouble, Fiona…”

Hi,

I feel I have no alternative but to come out and say it, Yes, I did stay at The Ritz Carlton in Moscow in 2013. It’s true. However, there are limits to the kind of depravity I am prepared to indulge in. I should come clean and clear the air.

Allow me to explain a little, and I should point out that Max, my next door neighbors 20 year old son came into my kitchen this morning as I was slipping on a gingham skirt and smoothing down my black top. As he rushed in he almost caught me by surprise.

“Fiona,” he babbled. “What’s a golden shower?”

I fixed him with a long look and realised he really wasn’t joking.

“Well, Max. When two people love each other very much…” I realised this was not going to be easy. “You see… It’s something two people who love each other very much can share.”

“Oh, what you mean like sex in the shower.”

“Well, not really,” I replied.

“Not if you have gold taps or a golden shower head?”

“Not exactly.”

I think I’m straying from my point.  Ah, yes. While it’s true that I have stayed at The Ritz Carlton in Moscow, and I have in the past been linked in some capacities to certain persons who will be inaugurated in the next few days, I would like to strenuously deny any suggestion that I have ever indulged in certain acts in the privacy of a hotel room in Moscow. There are limits to my depravity.

While I could succumb to the questionable pleasures of a golden shower, there is absolutely no conceivable way in which I would be sink to such depths of debauchery as to voluntarily spend time alone with the individual in question. As he has so eloquently put it himself, “I am a germophobe.”

Should some video emerge which shows me in a compromising position, obviously it’s been faked! Honest… Believe me!

🙂

Fiona

Here’s a great exercise for anyone wishing to feel a little more feminine. Have a listen and be sure to comment. Don’t forget – you can always find Playtime With Fiona here: http://fionadobson.com/tag/playtime-with-fiona/
Members of my Premium Program have been loving some of the tasks and exercises we’ve been using to help them feel even more comfortable with their dressing. If you’re among this group feel free to post some of your experiences at http://FionaDobson.com.

Sylvester and Max are jacking off in my garden!

Sylvester and Max are jacking off in my garden!

Hi,

+++ 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!

Merry Christmas,

🙂

Fiona

Splashing out on lingerie.

Hi,

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.

Fiona

Imagine, it’s 12 inches long and you’re right on top of it!

Imagine, it’s 12 inches long and you’re right on top of it!

Hi,

“What’s that,” I asked Max, my personal trainer.

“My Christmas list, Fiona.”

“Ah,” I replied.  “I thought it might be something like that, I replied, a little disappointed. It seems a little while since I got on top of anything except for my email inbox.

And speaking of my inbox, I have received a number of emails regarding last weeks’ message about Max’s new girlfriend and her comment about being able to ‘wang her own pickle jar.’

In reply to Michelle, in Tennessee, I am not sure it’s possible to do that with a racoon, but suspect that your animal welfare department may have something to say about it.

Vivian, in San Antonio, I think what you suggested is keenly encouraged by some religions, and is probably all right between consenting adults, but ultimately down to the individual church-goer.

I think Max’s Christmas list involves a large number of gifts, most of which will have his new girlfriend staring at the ceiling of this studio apartment until February.

And as we get ready for the holiday season, there’s a couple of things to remember. Obviously the first thing is to think about getting yourself a little present to encourage yourself. In the video below (which will probably be pulled by Youtube very soon) you may find some ideas. It’s the great Canadian singer, Bryan Adams. I am not entirely  sure this is what he had in mind when he wrote this song, but it works rather well, don’t you think?

If the video doesn’t appear – try this link https://vimeo.com/194093382

http://FionaDobson.com
The second thing to remember is that you can give yourself the gift of confidence and connection by investing in my Premium Program or Little Black Book, if you’re not already a member. If you are, then get out on the Little Black Book and send some Christmas greetings to the Gurls all around the world, who would love to hear from you.

🙂

Fiona

 

Fluid Movements.

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
🙂

Fiona

My pussy is being hunted!

My pussy is being hunted.

Hi,

The sun is blazing down on my garden, and I can hear Ali moving about in the distance, his hand tools musically clinking as he cleans up the flower beds. He has recently declared a Jihad on the weeds in the north border.

As he arrived this afternoon in his Smartcar, equipped with the rifle rack that Sylvester gave him, re-purposed to carry his rakes and spades, I was dancing – in my kitchen to the sounds of my childhood –https://youtu.be/v16CwfkppeI – getting carried away in my own little world. I had put together a big pitcher of sangria, a nice zinfandel with pineapple chunks and oranges, for myself, Ali while he worked, Max who was climbing a tree and trying to get to my pussy (don’t ask), and Bernard who will be over later this afternoon with some proofs from our latest photoshoot.

My garden is one of my favorite places in the summer. It’s a hive of activity. I still don’t know exactly what Max is doing climbing that tree, though. Shirtless and tanned he is, well, an entertaining diversion. He’s trying so hard, but I don’t think he’s ever going to get my pussy. All the same it’s fun to watch.

The summer here in Montreal is in full swing, and I am thrilled to say that we’re welcoming new members to my program all the time. I have been thrilled to see so many new members recently, it quite takes my breath away. I’ve also been getting a lot of mail – my inbox has been quite literally pounded with interesting mail. Have a listen to a couple of my responses here:https://soundcloud.com/user-474146023/probing-fionas-inbox-2

So, I thought I’d include a couple of things in today’s message. One is something I am constantly asked about. Breasts. Yes, always something we like to give our attention. But, if you don’t want to go on a hormone therapy treatment, what can you do to stimulate a little breast growth? I am so glad you asked!

There’s a few soy drinks out there, including ‘So Good’, that are quite rich in phytoestrogens that mimic the female hormone estrogen. If you drink a moderate amount daily you will experience a small increase in breast size. Women have known of this trick for years, and can lift their breast size by one or two cup sizes quite easily. So can you. If you’re not in North America (and I have members from all over the globe now) then finding another milk like soy drink will likely have the same effect.

Gosh, you learn some useful things from me! You can also use one of my breast enlargement self-hypnosis files here: https://youtu.be/15v1usMJAXg Self hypnosis for breast enlargement has been around since the sixties, and is well documented to be successful. I have many gurls who have experienced great results with this.

As a secondary fun thing, the first person to email me tonight with the correct idea of where I grew up gets a free entry in My Little Black Book. There’s a clue in this email. Oh, and by the way, I met Claire and knew her quite well. I will be online for at least another 4 hours.

Have fun, and enjoy your weekend.

🙂

Fiona

 

Playtime With Fiona 5 – Come and check out my bush!

Such goings on about the place!

Few sights can be more disturbing than Amanda, my wife’s hideous friend, in a two piece bathing suit. It was this unsettling image that greeted me when I arrived home this afternoon following a photoshoot with Bernard at the advertising agency.

Amanda was in our back garden, trying to tan her body, in much the same way that if you leave a piece of leather in the sun it becomes hardened and cracked. As I let Hannibal, my little black and brown Dachshund, out into the garden to my surprise he sprang across the grass and made a leap to bite Amanda’s bikini bottoms. As you can imagine, Amanda’s scream was so shrill you’d think someone were cutting through concrete with a rotary saw.

“Get him away! Get him away,” she screamed. Never before has so much flesh been restrained by so little fabric.

I sipped on my margarita as I watched Hannibal trying to pull the bikini from her. Then said, “Calm down,Amanda. He’s just being affectionate.”

In response Amanda started to run round the garden, arms flailing, with a dachshund hanging from her bum.

“Hannibal,” I mumbled, as I took another sip of my margarita.

“He’s gone rogue!” screamed Amanda.

The last I saw of her she was flapping away down the street, hotly pursued by Hannibal, who doubtless thought it a great game. I suspect I’ll be hearing more about this incident later.

That however, is not the main reason I am writing to you. Tonight is a warm Montreal evening, and it’s the perfect time to listen to the latest Youtube version of Playtime With Fiona. This weekends offering is a special one, and a little unusual. I know you’ll love it. This weekend is also the perfect weekend to experiment with some lighter summer shades of lipstick, a summer shade of eye shadow, and of course some new outfits for the beach or lake.

Feel free to share some pics. Don’t forget you can always submit a photo for me to share on the website here: http://fionadobson.com/your-pics/

Have a wonderful weekend.

Fiona

Patriotic Fervor.

Max, my neighbour’s son, came round this morning. He was full of patriotic fervor, as it’s Canada day. He was wearing his red and white tea shirt, and his strong muscles quivered beneath the cotton.

“Fiona,” he said excitedly, “Can I look at your beaver?”

I shifted uneasily. It’s not like Max to be quite so forward.

“Your beaver… Mother says you have a very special one!”

This seemed a little odd.

“She says you had it specially mounted,” he continued.

“She did, did she?”

“Yes, and put in a glass case.”

I suddenly remembered the revolting piece of taxidermy my wife’s equally revolting friend Amanda had left in our garage storage area. It was a beaver in a glass case.

“Of course you can, Max. You’re such good boy!”

tumblr_o5dnxhIdF51udir5qo1_1280Today, as you likely know, is Canada Day. This is the day on which Canadians celebrate the founding of our great country. Now, for those of you who are not Canadian and are hard at work – and from some of the emails I’ve been getting, I can honestly say I mean that in the most literal sense – I want you to try and share in my happiness in this day.

As you probably know I live in Montreal, that most cosmopolitan of modern cities. Here we enjoy a wonderful tradition of music, performance and fun. Most of you will know of Cirque Du Soleil – https://www.cirquedusoleil.com/ – a product of this fair city, and of the Montreal Jazz Festival. We also have a great comedy festival – and there’s a clip here you will love! If you have never heard of Dame Edna Everage then you definately need to see this!https://youtu.be/YV6Q4Q9u1pU

Not to forget my American cousins, I hope you too have a wonderful Fourth Of July. Here’s a nice video to help you celebrate! This is very funny – https://youtu.be/n2b3mkipd3U

So, on this special day join me in celebrating Canada. Think of it as embracing your inner beaver. I know you’ll enjoy it as much as I do.

Fiona

Time to put some color in your cheeks.

Well, I feel quite awkward about sending you this message. As you may know, Max – my neighbors son – has been job shadowing at my work for a little while. The advertising agency is very good for this, but what happened today was quite beyond my experience. I feel I have to share.

tumblr_o4ob3nCqmr1ukdxiso1_500Max had his young friend Micheal drop by the office. Rather than hanging around like a great goon, while Max finished off what he was doing, Micheal worked on something on his computer in my office. As it turned out, Max was tied up and had to work a little longer than anticipated, so his friend sat at the table in my office working away at an assignment for college. He was doing some sort of graphics training.

I was wearing a very thin pale blue blouse, my navy blue bra visible through it. My skirt was also rather shorter than strictly necessary, though no one had ever complained. Either way, what transpired was probably predictable.

I remember clearly freshening up my eye makeup, and glancing in the mirror of the compact as I applied a little more golden glow, noticing the way Micheal was staring at my behind. The only word that comes to mind is ‘drooling.’ One does get used to this.

Throughout the afternoon, now and then I would look up from my work and several times I caught Michael looking at me in a way that can only be described as salacious and lustful. Now, Max has way too many hormones dancing around inside his pants, but manages to control himself, even if I do tease him from time to time. I enjoy giving him the wrong end of the stick now and then and metaphorically giving him a good poke with it. After all, we all love a good poke. However, his friend Michael seemed positively entranced by my figure and unable to take his eyes off me.

I could see his furtive glances were drinking in my shape each time he secretly glanced at me. I could see him getting increasingly uneasy, and shifting awkwardly in his seat. I shot him a smile, as I worked and he blushed. This was all rather cute, until he got up unsteadily and walked over to my desk.

“Fiona,” he said nervously. I could see he was terribly anxious.

“Micheal, darling, what can I do for you,” I said as gently as I could.

“I…I…” He couldn’t get the words out.

“It’s ok, Micheal. You can say anything you want to me.”

He leaned into me and with the greatest of efforts spoke slowly and said, “I want to use your mouth.”

I was more than a little taken aback. I have been approached in many situations, and actually enjoy be propositioned, but this seemed a little odd.

I collected my thoughts and then said, being careful not to offend, “Just hold that thought for a moment.”

I slowly got to my feet and walked quickly out of my office to the coffee room, where I found Max loitering.

“Max,” I said firmly. “Come here! Now!”

He looked at me quizzically and said “Yes?”

“Micheal,” I said slowly, “Is he… Urm… He seems a little,” I didn’t have the chance to finish my sentence.

“Oh, I know,” Max said. “He’s a little odd. Tightly wound. Especially his lisp, and everything. Takes a lot to understand him sometimes.”

“Yes.” I said. “Exactly,” and slowly walked back to my office. As though the fog was clearing, suddenly all became clear, and I realized he must have been asking for a mouse for his computer.

‘Yes,’ I thought. ‘That must be it.’ I knew he’d been working on some graphics and a good mouse would make that a lot easier.

I walked in with renewed certainty and a sense of clarification, a crisis easily averted. Sitting at the table, Michael still looked nervous and awkward. ‘Silly boy,’ I thought, giggling to myself.

“Don’t worry, Michael,” I said. “I’m sure I can help you with that,” and I gave him a smile.

He blushed, and stood up, closed the door of my office and then to my surprise excitedly said, “I altho want your puthy…”

Now, I must get on with this email because there’s so much mounting on my desk, and I am getting a little behind (…phrasing…).

I meant to chat with you as most of my members are in USA and Europe. As we move into the glories of summer a wonderful opportunity comes, as we can apply a little blush, and blame the sun should anyone notice. If you are going out and dressing in public already this may seem a little redundant, of course.

I like as many as possible of my members to integrate a little of their femme self into every day. Using subtle amounts of make up does this wonderfully.

In summer most women actually use a little less make up, though using a bronzer is an exception. There’s no reason in the world why you shouldn’t do the same. Just as secretly wearing panties to work is liberating, using a little additional color on your cheeks has the same effect.

Now, as for Max, I can think of a good way to put some color in his cheeks. Where’s my office ruler?

Fiona

Sylvester’s giant pain in the …

Sylvester’s giant erection.

“It took three of use, heaving and panting and sweating to get my erection up,” said Sylvester, my mechanic, sitting at my kitchen table and sipping tea from my finest bone china. Like many of my best friends he just appears in my kitchen sometimes. Like a big sweaty mechanic genie.

“I’m sure it did,” I said sympathetically. “Now, just tell me again, this ‘erection’, what is that again?”

“It’s the new sign outside my store. Really beautiful, big and shiny. People can see it for miles.”

“I don’t doubt it, “ I said, my imagination reelling.

tumblr_o1u5glMNzN1thnk1uo1_1280“That’s when I did it.”

“You did?” I said, surprised. “Ion the parking lot?”

“My back! It’s bloody agony!” He clutched his lower lumbar region and winced.

“Poor Sylvester!” I was at my most sympathetic. When an enormous erection goes all wrong I know how difficult things can be. It can get out of hand very swiftly.

“So, I wondered, maybe you could…”

“Sylvester, I am telling you for the very last time! What goes on between you, your boys and your big shiny erection really is your business and I really don’t want to come between you!”

“No! I’m trying to ask, do you know a good chiropractor to help with my back?”

It so happens that I am quite well connected in that department. As I told Sylvester, I happen to know Dicky Longstaff personally.

“Dicky who?” said Sylvester.

“Longstaff. He does all the big names. They say he’s behind some of the biggest boys in TV and film too. Often, I’m told. He has many celebrity clients.”

“Longstaff, you say. That sounds familiar.”

“You’ve probably heard his radio adverts. You know the one! “I’m Dicky, and I’ve got your back!”

Sylvester looked mildly relieved and I told him I would get on the phone as soon as I’d finished this email.

So, the reason I am emailing you is to say that at last the Fiona Dobson website is finally alive. My neighbour’s son Max has been beavering away – his words not mine – in his bedroom, emerging only for food, and finally he’s got it up. Go and see it at http://FionaDobson.com as admire his work!

He’s up there day and night laboring away at his computer. Such a diligent boy. At least I think that’s what he’s doing up there.

If you’re thinking of joining the Premium Program, let me know. Now is a good time, as you will also get free membership of my Little Black Book, at least until the end of June, when I’ll be offering that as a separate $24.95 subscription. So, Carpe Diem, as I always tell Max. Though to be quite honest I’m not sure that’s what he’s been seizing!

Fiona.

The Gender Spectrum And Your Box.

The Gender Spectrum And Your Box.

At last, the weekend. It was very busy this week at the advertising agency, and Max, my next door neighbors 19 year old son, joined me to ‘job shadow’. He’s been following me around (no change there!) to see what I get up to and see if perhaps after he finishes college he should consider a career in the world of advertising.

Unfortunately, he chose to job shadow the week we are moving offices. All the same he made himself very useful, his muscly arms being put to good use helping pack up my office.  I have some lovely plants in the office, and made sure they were all packed nicely in a big chest, so they would survive the move.

“Would you like me to drill your box?” Asked Max, as I was stretching over the desk, reaching to unplug a phone.

“I’m sorry?” I said, a little perplexed. Max has always had what might be described as a healthy curiosity about my body, but this seemed uncharacteristically forward.

“Drill your box? Holes,” he said.

I looked very puzzled at him.

“You know, so the plants get more air.”

I realised he was talking about the big box I was using to move the plants. Better air flow would indeed help them.

“Max, you are such a good boy. You go right ahead and drill what ever you need to,” I told him.

That, however is not the main reason I decided to send this message. I decided to send a quick note to tell you about a great BBC radio broadcast I think you may enjoy. It’s an investigation into the idea of gender. I think you may find it every bit as fascinating as I did. It touches on the idea of gender not only being more complex but actually completely fluid.

You can listen to it here: Do We Have Enough Genders? http://bbc.in/23v0LRz

Let me know what you think of it.

Fiona