The Reynolds Girls – I’d Rather Jack!

It has been called the worst record of the 1980’s, but I love it. In the late 80’s I was working on The Evening Standard as a photographer. On a slow news day we’d go and hang out outside the offices of a ‘hit factory’ production company – Stock Aitken and Waterman in London.

There were always interesting people going in and out of their offices, and often it would merit a quick photo, if nothing else was going on.

One afternoon I was hanging out on the pavement outside the offices, and the two girls came out. It was purely a chance encounter, and although I did know their single I didn’t know the girls at all.

As it happened I was lighting up a cigarette. At that time I regret to say we all smoked. Linda saw me, walked up to me and asked if I had a spare smoke. I gave her one and the three of us spent a while chatting in the sunshine.

The impression I got was that they were just having fun and not really interested in a music career, which was just as well as it was a one hit wonder. However, they really just seemed a couple of sweet young girls living the dream while it lasted.

Years later, in 2007, they did do a reunion video, below, in which they re-enacted the original dance. This time they were quite a bit older, but their fun attitude and presence comes right through. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

They seem to have disappeared from the public eye these days. However, I am always left feeling that if more performers had their attitude the business might be a lot more authentic. Linda and Aisling cared even less about what the critics said than I do. Their sense of fun seems to live on. Wherever they are I hope they’re still as joyful as they were thirty years ago.

🙂

Fiona

What’s that on your fingers?

I am no detective, but when you know Auntie Kittie is making jam, and the top of the cooking sherry is sticky… well, it doesn’t take much to know she’s getting into my stash of wine.

And speaking of your favorite auntie, she has some nephews from New Zealand staying, and she’s teaching them all about making jam. She told me this morning that she’s trying to get her hands on some plums, and possibly a cherry or two. She tells me she’s got plenty of fruit, though she did say she’d finished off her kiwis.

As you probably know I record some great hypnosis tracks, and having such a nice recording set up I allow some of my friends to use it for their own recordings. When I poked my head round the door just now I found Mistress Meg’s little helper, Stacey making a new recording for our Seahorse members.

I was quite shocked by the things she was saying. I had to listen, just for a moment. Stacey is so innocent looking. I was most surprised.

“You’re going to love dressing up for me tonight, aren’t you?” she said into the microphone.

“I know you’ve wanted to for a long time, but this time it’s something you’re desperate to do. And you know, I’ve known about it for a long time, I just enjoy you being awkward about it. But I also know that the longer I make you wait, the more desperate you’re going to be to do just exactly what I want.

And what I want is very important for you, isn’t it?

You want to serve me. You want to do whatever I tell you. Don’t you?”

I thought I’d better leave her to it after that. Well, you lucky Seahorses will be hearing from Stacey before long, I expect.

🙂

Fiona

PS – I thought I’d add this great track from Def Leopard especially for all my fellow diabetics.

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Are you getting enough?

Did you know that Seahorse membership opens up a swathe of stories you may not have already enjoyed.Seahorse Membership

I mentioned this to Sylvester and Bernard yesterday, and added, “Yes, for just a few dollars a month, you can be getting it whenever and where ever you want it!”

“I wish I was getting it whenever I want it,” mumbled Sylvester. You know he really can be quite coarse at times.

One such story is the acclaimed text called ‘Poison’. Many of my Seahorse members have enjoyed this. Here’s a very short extract.

“The soft sensation of nylon against my skin is almost the perfect form of foreplay. Pulling on the nylon stockings, and smoothing them up my leg, unhurried and luxuriously, before a date is always enough to make me wet.

Perhaps, it’s a response to my desire for something to happen or maybe it’s just a learned response. After all, most times I go out dressed in this manner, I get what I’m looking for. So, it’s only a matter of time before my body, hungry for the lecherous and desperate touch of a lover, is served to my satisfaction. You’ll note that I said ‘my satisfaction’. I point this out as I do like to play a little game.

It’s been about five years now that I’ve followed a rather particular dating practice. I usually use one of the more popular apps, Tinder of some such, and there I will select a — now what should I call them — a project. Yes. I select a project. You know, if you go to some of the apps you can even find me. Of course, I’m not going to make that too easy for you, as I really don’t want to give away all my secrets.“

Be sure to join me as a Seahorse member to enjoy the full ten episode story.

Seahorse Membership

Meet the women who love to feminize their men.

Enjoy Mistress Meg’s correspondence with the women who love to feminize their men when you become a Seahorse member. Learn more about these dangerous but seductive new friends, who will turn you into the woman of their dreams. – https://fionadobson.com/women-who-love-to-feminize-their-men/

Are you a petrosexual?

I am pretty sure that Sylvester is a petrosexual. He will likely be the last man on earth to buy an electric car.

Perhaps I have not introduced Sylvester as best I could. Today I will devote a moment or two to help you understand this man who plays such a large part in my life. And his large part is something I think of very fondly, of course. As he walks up toward my front door, his Harley Davidson leaking oil on my driveway, one can easily tell he is a man of distinction in his lime green shorts, Hawaiian shirt and straw pork pie hat.

It is a source of great concern to me that he has a ludicrous preoccupation with my wife’s friend Amanda, the queen of tweed. There is a sort of twisted logic to this. I should explain, as I know you’re interested.

First of all, Amanda is in a relationship with Marjory, my neighbour. Surprisingly Amanda also had a brief fling with my wife while they were at university together, though I am assured that is all history now. All the same, She Whose Name I Dare Not Speak insists I keep good relations with Amanda.

Secondly, Amanda drives a Prius. Now, correct me if I am wrong – which I am not – but isn’t that a bit ironic since, metaphorically speaking – Sylvester would like to change her engine oil and slide his petrol pump into her yearning tank? I think you get the general idea. I should add, a this point, that Douglas, the nice man who imports Toyotas to Canada mentioned the other day over a coffee, that they had a special meeting after Amanda bought her Prius Hybrid.  Apparently, it was the first time anyone had ever ordered the beige model, with beige seats.  These are usually provided as courtesy cars to anyone who drives into a snow plough, or they end up sold off at a discount.

With all this in mind it seems unusual that Sylvester should become infatuated with Amanda. I can only put it down to the possibility that some people always find themselves attracted to the unattainable. And it is true that Sylvester is repeating a behaviour he has engaged in before.  The whole Taylor Swift incident is something we rather avoid talking about.  Needless to say the restraining order should expire in the next couple of years.

The only mitigating factor in Sylvester’s favor in his ridiculous pursuit of Amanda is that, as the Editor of Pig And Pig Farmer Weekly, Amanda does indeed have some relevant experience. Either way, it all seems rather odd to me that Sylvester, who is often found up to his elbows under a Camaro, has got himself all hot under his Carhart overalls forAmanda, who in turn is to be found up to her elbows under Marjory. Truly, the heart is a complex organ.

But, that is not the main reason I am writing. I thought I’d drop you a quick line to remind you that the next episode of Clothes Maketh The Man is out.  Yes, Part 64 has hit the street. You can find it here. Thanks to all my Patreon members and members here; your generosity in supporting me helps me keep producing great content.

In these difficult times for the trans community I am urging my members to wear a trans pin where ever possible. You can buy a pack of ten from here – https://amzn.to/46AILf5 . I give these to friends and allies to wear if they wish to. I say this because when people hear about the idiocy of the actions of Justice Robert’s Supreme Court it’s all somewhat abstract. As hard won trans rights and LGBTQ rights are eroded it is important that we help others understand just who it is that they’re abusing. It’s you, it’s me, it’s the nurse driving to work in traffic next to you, and it’s the troubled teen who needs proper counselling. There’s nothing abstract about the mother sobbing because her son has opened his wrists. We have to treat this as we do so many things,  with dignity and kindness. We can do so in the knowledge that there is a special place in hell for scum like Justice Roberts. https://www.cnn.com/2023/07/02/politics/john-roberts-scotus-dissent/index.html

We will get through. We will do so by caring for those others would abuse, by extending kindness to those with only hatred in their hearts, and by being better human beings than they ever could aspire to be.

Have a wonderful week.

😊

Fiona

PS. Don’t forget, click on a name that is hotlinked to explore that person further. There’s a lot of content around both Sylvester and Amanda. You may enjoy it. 🙂

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Would you like to stuff my beaver?

Hi,

This morning, just as I was emerging from my morning yoga session, I was surprised to see Max (my neighbour’s son), huffing and puffing and coming in my rear entrance, a bundle of excited youthful anticipation. He was hurrying up the garden path, as I pulled up my yoga pants, and adjusted my hair.

Sebastian, my personal trainer, was as surprised as I was myself. He likes to come early to stretch me, as I’m sure my regular members are aware.

“Fiona,” said Max, bursting into my kitchen. “Can I take a look at your beaver?”

As you probably know, today is Canada Day. It’s a tradition in Huckleberry Close, to come over to my house on Canada Day, and look at my beaver – a beautiful piece of taxidermy –  the centrepiece of the Canada Day party I always throw on the Canada Day Weekend, to celebrate us throwing off the shackles of oppressive colonialism before Canada declared itself free of tyrannical rule from London. Actually, that’s not really true. We just all sort of agreed that we’d have a new flag and continue to be the friends we’ve always been. No one was being either tyrannical or oppressive, but it’s a good excuse for a party. And the centre piece of the party is my beaver, a stuffed animal that has become something of a mascot over the years. It’s traditional for us to enjoy some lovely Canadian Wines, from British Columbia (a place that is neither British nor Columbian), swap hockey stories and talk about Zamboni’s while apologizing to one another. We all eat poutine and make fun of people we love from Newfoundland, and generally act in an understated but quietly superior way, while listening to The Tragically Hip, 54 40, Five Man Electrical Band, Rush and many other great Canadian bands.

I told Max, “Darling, calm down. My beaver is open to everyone, just give me a moment to prepare it! You’ll get your turn. Just don’t get too excited. It’s Canada Day, you’ll have to pace yourself.”

We have so many wonderful traditions in Canada. Being Canadian means so many wonderful things to all the peoples of our country. We love our diversity, our first nations people and our democracy, which we value enough to protect.

If Max gets over excited, of course, it will be over before it’s really started. It can happen to us all. I handed him a pot of maple syrup and suggested he put it out on the garden table while I went down to get the noble beast, and then he could examine my beaver to his hearts content.

This year’s wine of choice is Quill, a distinctive Rose from Vancouver Island, which is quite delightful and goes rather well with the short skirt I’m wearing. It’s light, a little cheeky and subtly stimulating.  The wine’s not bad either. I know we’ll be toasting Sylvester, who has decided to commit to a course learning to drive a Zamboni at the local hockey arena. I must get things ready for the party shortly, so this will be a short email.

It may come as a surprise to some of you, but Marjory (my delightful lesbian neighbor) got her hand stuck in my beaver recently while trying to replace some of the stuffing. She was wedged right in there! I know what you’re thinking, what was she of all people doing, jammed up there? Well, she does fancy herself as something of an amateur taxidermist. Strange woman. She’s from Alaska, you know. Eventually we got her hand out, but ever since she’s been acting most strangely. She’s said on more than one occasion that she wishes her hands were a little smaller. I can’t think why! It’s almost as though she’s never heard of lube. I understand it softens the skin nicely and taxidermists swear by it.

I hurried down to the basement and found my beaver, then carried it up to my garden table, already bathed in warm summer sunshine. In the sunlight I could see it has begun to look a little tired. I suppose one can not be surprised. After all, my beaver has been fingered by many over the passing years. And yet, surprisingly it continues to put a contented smile on many of my friends faces. However, I do believe a beaver should be well groomed and well presented. I will speak to my local taxidermist and have him restuff it later this month.

With this in mind I resolved to make a Canada Day offer to all my friends and members. Anyone who emails me with the words in the subject line “Fiona, I’ll stuff your beaver!” before the end of Canada Day weekend, July 3rd, can have a free membership to My Little Black Book. This is worth $2.95 a month for crossdressing gurls, and $4.95 a month to Admirers. So, get your digits moving and I can help get some more members in there.

Have a wonderful Canada day weekend.

😊

Fiona

Clothes Maketh The Man – Part 64.

– Find Part 1 here â€“ Chapter list here â€“

Just for a moment I’d like you to share an intimate moment with me. I’d like you to imagine climbing inside my head. My head, not my panties.

That’s better. Now, think about this. As I pulled away from the barn, I was leaving two idiots trying to get out of the building, and the dusty road wound up toward the top of a rise, and I had no clue what lay ahead of me.

Continue reading “Clothes Maketh The Man – Part 64.”

I think Bernard needs more fibre in his diet.

When Bernard, my photographer, said that he’d experienced ‘quite a blow’ the other day, my thoughts naturally went to his digestion.

“Ah,” I said with the sort of genuine concern you know I am famous for. “The old trouble, again!”

“What?” he replied sharply. “No, it’s the weather. We’ve been having a strong Easterly wind most mornings, and I was caught out in it the other day.”

As you probably know, Bernard is a keen sailor. His boat is moored nearby Huckleberry Close, by Trannie Annie’s Sailor’s Bar. And it’s not just Bernard who enjoys a good blow on the beach. I have done a good deal of sailing myself. I know my sprit snotter from my mast rake.

I mentioned that to Ali, my gardener, who wondered why Bernard would need gardening equipment on his little ketch. English Bay is a treasure on the coast here in British Columbia, framing the city of Vancouver with a sheltered bay that many who sail love to frequent. Several of my members are known to sail here from time to time. It should be said that Sylvester also gets the occasional boat maintenance job. As a mechanic he often has to service marine engines. It’s not unusual for me to wander into his workshop to find him there with a shaft in his hand, and a propeller on the workbench. He says it comes up nicely with a good polish.

My life really never is dull. I like to wear a colorful wetsuit when I sail, I’ve found they are so much nicer today than they were a few years ago. Here’s a little tip (ed. Phrasing). You can buy a two piece wetsuit on Amazon very reasonably and you can have a pee without having to spend half an hour slipping out of a one piece one. Believe me, it makes for a much more comfortable day on the water. There are some lovely patterned designs for the casual crossdresser wanting to get wet and wild on the beach. My love is particularly for smaller boats and fast catamarans. Sebastian likes to get out on the Bay with me, being such a sportsman.

Even Amanda likes to get out on the water from time to time. She has even been fishing with Sylvester, in circumstances that can only be described as dubious. Apparently she saw his flies and decided she would go with him, and wanted to keep her hand in.

Now, as Auntie Kittie reminded me as she was chugging down some schnapps for breakfast, the sun can be stronger by the water. Be sure you get a good sun block, and some Aloe gel for after you’ve been out in the sun. I often use Jason Aloe Moisturizing Gel ( https://amzn.to/440eCEo ). I don’t get paid to promote that. I just happen to find it makes an excellent moisturiser after a day at the beach, and it seems very kind to my skin.

These days so many of us are drilled into not spending enough time on ourselves. Whether it’s a hobby you choose to develop, or you just want to get down to the water, remember that this summer you can enjoy being the best gurl you can be, by spending healthy time outdoors.

😊

Fiona

PS. In case you’d never noticed, I usually put a hotlink on the first mention of a name in my posts. If you click on this it takes you to the other posts in which they’re mentioned. It’s a fun way to explore my site. Try some of the links. 🙂

Enjoy the Fiona Dobson playlist.

When I first started sending out the weekly messages I would often embed a music video. I don’t so often these days, as the messages are much more text heavy.

However, over the last few years the videos were very popular and were compiled into a playlist. It’s turned out to be a rather unusual and eclectic collection.

You may enjoy it.

Fiona

Hypnosis

I include a wealth of hypnosis files for my members. Some of these are available without joining the Premium Program or Seahorse program. Have a good look through them and see if there’s anything that grabs you – I know you’ll love them.

You can find the complete list of what’s available HERE.

These have been compiled by myself, by Mistress Meg and also by young Stacy. So, you’re never going to feel bored.

Be sure to to enjoy them in the safe privacy of your own space, and they’re best used just before you go to sleep.

Let me know how you get along.

Fiona.

Are you getting enough?

Did you know that Seahorse membership opens up a swathe of stories you may not have already enjoyed.

Seahorse Membership

I mentioned this to Sylvester and Bernard yesterday, and added, “Yes, for just a few dollars a month, you can be getting it whenever and where ever you want it!”

“I wish I was getting it whenever I want it,” mumbled Sylvester. You know he really can be quite coarse at times.

One such story is the acclaimed text called ‘Poison’. Many of my Seahorse members have enjoyed this. Here’s a very short extract.

The soft sensation of nylon against my skin is almost the perfect form of foreplay. Pulling on the nylon stockings, and smoothing them up my leg, unhurried and luxuriously, before a date is always enough to make me wet.

Perhaps, it’s a response to my desire for something to happen or maybe it’s just a learned response. After all, most times I go out dressed in this manner, I get what I’m looking for. So, it’s only a matter of time before my body, hungry for the lecherous and desperate touch of a lover, is served to my satisfaction. You’ll note that I said ‘my satisfaction’. I point this out as I do like to play a little game.

It’s been about five years now that I’ve followed a rather particular dating practice. I usually use one of the more popular apps, Tinder of some such, and there I will select a — now what should I call them — a project. Yes. I select a project. You know, if you go to some of the apps you can even find me. Of course, I’m not going to make that too easy for you, as I really don’t want to give away all my secrets.

Be sure to join me as a Seahorse member to enjoy the full ten episode story.