Don’t forget your rape whistle!

Hi,

Such wonderful correspondence I’ve been receiving recently. Julie and I have been bending over backwards to get on top of it, and we’ve had almost all we can take. I have to say, some really is hard to swallow!

Mildred in Colorado Springs writes:

“I have been so happy dressing lately, and one of my recent accessories is a lovely rape whistle on a silver chain. It looks wonderful, but no matter how long I spend blowing the whistle so far I’ve had no luck!”

Mildred, that’s not how the whole rape whistle thing works, darling, however I love the creativity of having it on a nice ornamental chain. Keep at it and I’m sure you’ll eventually find what you’re looking for.

Now, whilst I suspect you would find this very hard to believe, there are some people who have described me as being a trifle insensitive. This is something I find very hurtful, as I really do attempt to go through life shining light on those dark corners into which a little joy and happiness would be appreciated.

It is with a degree of disappointment and embarrassment that I have to relate the events of this week. In my defense I would say that this could have happened to anyone!

It all started when Max, my neighbours son, came over to my house along with one of his childhood toys. Perhaps you remember the particular toy. It’s even sold today, surprisingly. It’s called ‘Tickle me Elmo’.  The big thing about this cuddly pink toy was that if you touched it, it would start start giggling and shaking violently. This in turn starts the child giggling and usually everyone in the room laughing. It was very popular when it came out years ago.

Now, like many toys, over the years it broke. In the case of Max’s Tickle Me Elmo, it was dyed brown, to be like Paddington Bear – that Max enjoyed as a little boy. So, this now brown bear like creature was renamed ‘Parkinson’. Well, it could hardly be named Paddington, as it was slightly different. And so Parkinson came into being. Max played with Parkinson throughout his early childhood, and then he was consigned to the bottom of a toybox and forgotten. At least, until my good friend Sylvester offered to fix the thing and return it’s voice and movement.

“You can do that?” said Max.

“I love fixing old toys,” said Sylvester. “Let me play around with it and see what I can do.”

Now, it so happened that Sylvester left the partially restored creature in my kitchen last time he came over, knowing Max was sure to be by, and that I’d pass it on to him when he arrived. It turned out he was unable to fix the voice, but was able to get the toy to shake and tremble every time one touched it. It was rather a strange effect, I admit, but I suppose he did his best. So, Parkinson sat on the side in my kitchen for a few days waiting for Max.

None of this should be a problem, of course, were it not for my wife’s appalling friend, Amanda. She dropped in unexpectedly, my wife being away on an unplanned business trip in Poughkeepsie.

As she came my in back entrance, I said to her, ”I’m sorry, Amanda, she’s not home. She’s in Poughkeepsie.”

“That’s not even a real place!” she replied, making herself at home in the kitchen. I poured her some coffee from the freshly made pot.

“Well, I’m just stopping for a moment. I have my father outside in the car. I’m taking him down for his check up. I wondered if your wife wanted to meet for lunch one day next week. There’s that new Korean restaurant. I know she likes Asian.”

“Of course,” I said. “The one next to the pet shop.  If you give her a call tonight I’m sure she’ll be able to talk.”

Amanda glanced across the kitchen counter at the toy sitting there. “What on earth is that?”

“Oh, that’s Parkinson.”

“You are a strange and complicated person,” she said reaching out for it. As she touched it the toy began shaking and convulsing violently.

The next thing I knew she slammed her coffee on the counter, muttered something about me being a monster and stormed out before I could say a word. I was left staring at her retreating form wondering what I’d said that she found so offensive.

The next moment in walked Max. He often swings by around the time I do my yoga workout. I think the yoga pants are more of a draw than the yoga itself, with Max. My downward dog has caused a certain degree of upset for Max – See the episode with the carrot.

“Amanda left in a hurry,” he said as he wandered in.

“I can’t think what got into her,” I said.

“Not much, I should say. I saw her father in the car as I came in. He’s a lovely man. I’ve met him a couple of times since I started working with her. Such a shame about his health.”

“Oh, really? What’s the problem?”

“He has Parkinson’s disease. Terrible shame.”

I shuddered and handed Max Parkinson. I think I may have to start avoiding Amanda.

😊

Fiona

 

Night of the Proms 2004, Cindy Lauper, Girls Just Want to Have Fun

Gurls really do just wanna have fun at http://FionaDobson.com

Post a video of yourself on any social media platform dressed and dancing to this track, and mentioning http://FionaDobson.com – with the link – and get a free one year membership in My Little Black Book!  Send me a link to your social media post (set for public view) and I’ll set it up.

Not a great dancer?  No worries – just copy Cindy and you’ll be fine!

Many of my readers enjoy Eddie Izzard – who has recently released a new book. His keen insight into life generally, crossdressing and Jazz Chickens is a wonderful read. You can get it here: http://fionadobson.com/books/believe-memoir-love-death-jazz-chickens/
Just imagine, a crossdressing ghost story for Halloween. Yes, it’s coming – in three parts. It will be published on http://FionaDobson.com on the evenings of 29, 30th, and 31st of October.

Halloween is a great time for crossdressers. The night when the dead walk the earth seems an odd thing to celebrate, but any excuse to get out in heels works for me! Enjoy the three part series and be sure to watch out for it at FionaDobson.Com.

Need costume supplies for Halloween? Try checking out my shopping list and looking at some of the great online deals there.

FD

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

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

No one should be without a body stocking!

If you are getting my weekly emails – which you get when you sign up for the Free Program – you’ll already know the importance of having a great body stocking in your wardrobe.  I was reminded, when looking at Sylvester’s legs the other day, that some of us bare a closer resemblance to the lower primates than others. Having a great body stocking is a good way to disguise body hair.

Here’s a selection of options that are fun, easy to wear and will make you feel fabulous.

 

 

_________________________________________________________________

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/

Getting Astride Sylvester’s Boner.

What a creative group of people I surround myself with, I thought to myself as I sat on Sylvester’s boner. It was shaking this way and that, the vibrations rising up through my body in a very unsettling manner.

Sylvester’s workshop has all manner of strange things in it. He is quite the amateur inventor. He’d called me earlier that day, excited about his new development. Naturally, I hurried over to his workshop to see what the fuss was all about.

As I arrived Bernard, my photographer, was pulling up.

“He want’s me to photograph it,” he said as we entered the workshop. “Say’s it’s an historical moment.”

As we arrived Sylvester stood beside a large cube shaped object. I thought it might be a washing machine, though it was covered with a sheet. Suddenly, with a great flourish, Sylvester swept away the sheet revealing a strange device with the words “The Boner” skillfully painted over the front of it.

“Let me demonstrate my new invention,” he said, clearly expecting our excitement to match his.

I clutched my hands before me, teetered to and fro on my heels, and said, “How exciting!”

With that Sylvester brought a small basket of frozen chickens, probably about five, and emptied them into the chamber in the centre of the cube. He then released a valve and I could hear water filling the chamber and see steam rising.

Bernard started snapping off pictures, and I began to smell chicken cooking as Sylvester closed the chamber. There were spurting sounds, and something that looked like a cappuccino machine released steam from the side of the contraption. In a few moments a bell ran, and chicken broth was pumped from a pipe at the foot of the machine.

Then the device started vibrating and shaking, and a burst of super heated steam was released. It looked ok for a moment and then I noticed the look of panic on Sylvester’s face.

“Quick, Fiona, climb on the Boner. You sit on it while I get out my tool.”

“Sylvester…” I said uncertainly. “I’m not sure about this.” It seemed to be shaking and rattling quite dangerously.

“Climb on it or it may shake itself to destruction.” Sylvester was reaching into one of the colorful tool chests, trying to find his special tool.

I carefully climbed on to the Boner, the shaking going through my whole body. As I sat there I thought it was going to explode, and I must say my breath was quite taken away.

And then, quite suddenly Sylvester was there, between my legs with his tool. He jerked it this way and that and before long the shaking began to subside. At last there was a gurgling sound and a hatch popped open revealing two draws. Sylvester opened one, and brought out some perfectly cooked chicken meat. The smell filled the workshop with a delicious aroma.

From the second draw he drew out a tray containing all the chicken bones, completely cleaned of meat.

“It’s perfect,” he cried out. “Every bone has been extracted and the meat remains undamaged.”

“Goodness,” I said, feeling quite out of breath. “What a remarkable invention. I can imagine everyone will want a Boner.”

Sylvester said, “Imagine, a Boner in every kitchen!”

Bernard chimed in “People will be asking what on earth they did before they had a Boner!”

“Imagine, if you could find a way to extract the dark meat,” I said.

“I should think that would make it much bigger,” mused Sylvester. “Do you think there’d be a market for such a thing? It would be a much larger and more powerful Boner.”

“I can’t see that being a bad thing,” I replied.

So you can see it’s been a very eventful few days. Have a wonderful weekend!

🙂

Fiona

It’s spring! When was the last time you played around? Dressed? That’s got to be a good one for Playtime With Fiona!

Don’t forget, I’ve got many free videos for you on Youtube, and soundfiles on Soundcloud.

Did you know?

When you sign up for my Premium Program, you get a series of exercises, as well as the self hypnosis and educational information for Julie and myself, that’s sure to make all your crossdressing activities way more fun. One recent member wrote: “Your program like changed my life))) especially the initial encounter with the man who is now my bf)) thank you!!!”

Whether you want to just occassionally slip on some panties, or whether you’d like to pass, my Premium Program prepares you psychologically, physically and educationally for all you need to know. You can sign up today for just $35 a year. Join the many members who are finding more acceptance and happiness in this wonderful part of their life.

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.

Bernard is choking on Sebastian’s sausage.

The other night Bernard was being uncharacteristically quiet at the table in the restaurant, with my friends and I enjoying the New Year celebrations. Sylvester and Ali were laughing. I remember, particularly, as I was explaining that while in Australia last year, between photoshoots, I had been diving and had been describing the various merits of the sea cucumber. Bernard had been on the trip, though since his transplant has not been doing much diving.

We were enjoying a wonderful meal at a restaurant in the heart of Montreal which served favorite dishes from around the world. Sebastian had ordered the German Sausage, and shared some of it with Bernard. The succulent meat was exquisitely prepared, and Bernard tucked into it with gusto.

That was when I noticed Bernard changing color. “Are you alright?” I asked. When there came no reply I felt a wave of panic sweep over me. It’s only a few short weeks since Bernard’s operation.

If you’re a regular reading of my material you’ll know that Amanda is not my favorite person on the planet. It was only as a favor to my wife that I invited her to join us for dinner. My wife is on one of her trips. This is a charitable one, I believe. If I remember rightly she’s feeding the hungry in Africa, or something. Maybe it’s the Africans in Hungary. It’s so hard to keep track of her. She has such a big heart. Before leaving on her mission of mercy she had made me promise to take Amanda out with us for dinner on New Years eve.

I remember very vividly, as that night I had chosen to wear a mid blue evening dress, with a bodice that laced up behind, and matching blue heels. The blue was a very particular shade, and as I watched Bernard he gradually changed color to a matching hue.

“What on earth is the matter with Bernard,” I said and looked at Sylvester.

“Search me,” answered Sylvester.

Suddenly Amanda leapt to her enormous feet, and shouted “Heimlich manoeuvre!” For a woman of disturbing proportions she certainly can move swiftly. It reminded me of one of those National Geographic TV shows, about when hippos attack.

“Don’t worry,” she said to a terrified looking Bernard, who by now was clearly choking. “I’m a trained professional.”

I took a long sip of my wine, and said to Sylvester, “This should be interesting.”

Amanda was behind Bernard, wrapping her arms around him and began squeezing. Bernard shifted to a deeper shade of blue.

“That’s it Amanda, you need to reach around him,” said Sylvester.

“And then jerk him. You’ve got the idea,” I added helpfully. Amanda seemed to be thrusting powerfully with her hips, and Bernard looked increasingly alarmed.

A moment later his head jerked back and he coughed and his throat seemed to clear. I was most impressed by the whole thing. Amanda had indeed saved the day, and Bernard had made a new friend.

What a way to go into the New Year. So, if you feel like sharing, let me know what New Years Resolutions you plan to break this year.

I sincerely hope you are enjoying the news I share with you. You can participate and comment even more at http://FionaDobson.com

🙂

Fiona

Enjoy this video about New Years resolutions!

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

Time for a Halloween touch up!

As Halloween approaches and the souls of the dead prepare to walk the earth, any number of my friends are preparing to dress up and wander the streets in the dark. Actually, now that I think about it, most weekends many of my friends spend their evenings doing precisely that regardless of the time of year.

I was conferring with Sylvester in my kitchen, examining a few articles of lingerie, trying to decide what best to wear for my Halloween night party. I finally decided on fishnet, stiletto heels and a bodice, with a steampunk look. Perfect.

I asked Sylvester what he planned to come as.

“I think Donald Trump, if I can find the right costume.”

“At this late stage, I’m not sure you’re going to be able to find a giant dick costume!” I said sympathetically.

At that very moment Amanda, my wife’s unbearable friend, arrived at the door and knocked so hard I felt sure the roof would cave in. She has all the grace and delicacy of a garbage truck.

She barrelled in, coughing and spluttering like a diesel engine that hadn’t been run in a while. Amanda then went on to tell us of the latest disaster to befall her. Amanda was coming by, fresh from her gynecologist. Now, if there was ever a job that requires a strong stomach, being Amanda’s gyny would be the top of that list. Apparently Amanda was in the midst of an exam, had a coughing fit and one way or another the poor man was taken off to hospital with a broken wrist!

I will spare you the details, but it was all rather distasteful. Then, just to make matters worse, Sylvester let slip that he was coming to my party, which so far we’d successfully kept secret from Amanda. She then promptly invited herself to the event!

Reluctantly I asked what she would be coming as.

“Well,” she said, expansively. “I think I’ll come as that CNN broadcaster that looks like me.”

Sylvester and I looked at one another, puzzled. I was thinking, maybe Lou Dobbs, but he’s with Fox now. Maybe Wolf Blitzer?

“You know,” she persisted. “The blonde. Megan whats-her-name…”

“Megan Kelly?”  I asked.

“That’s her,” said Amanda.

“Oh,” I said. “The likeness is uncanny.” Megan Kelly looks about as much like Amanda as a carrot resembles plague.

“Well,” I said. “If you stand next to Sylvester as Donald Trump, all you need do to look like Megan Kelly is wear any form of period costume.”

But, that’s not the main reason I am writing to you. I recently had a delightful email from Brandi, in Yakima, WA in which she enclosed a great face pic which she had touched up using an app called YouCam Makeup- Makeover Studio. I’m sure we all appreciate a good touch up, don’t we? So this week I am offering a free membership of my Little Black Book to the best retouched Halloween pic which uses YouCam or another similar makeup type filter. Keep in mind that any pics you send in may end up on the website – so don’t be surprised if I place them there!

Have a wonderful Halloween, and at this time of year – when so many of us are having so much fun – spare a thought for Amanda’s gynecologist!

🙂

Fiona

The Trouble With Threesomes.

You know how it is.  You all get ready, make sure you’re prepared. Everyone takes the proper precautions – you know what I’m saying.

And then it always goes like this.  One person just always, always finishes too soon. They’re way out there on their own having so much fun and then they’re done. Yes, it’s the same every time.


That’s why I never like playing threesomes at my local golf course. Sylvester and I are out there trying to find our balls, and Sebastian, my personal trainer, has already finished and is left polishing the shaft of his 9 iron.
As you can doubtless tell, Sylvester, Sebastian and I are out having a last round of golf before this glorious summer comes to an end.

tumblr_o633arjprr1uxh3kao1_500Bernard is recovering from his heart transplant at home in his bed, though I have noticed since he got the heart of a middle aged African American woman he has started behaving very strangely. He’s made an appointment to meet Amanda, the queen of tweed, and show her his ‘Mamma’s recipe for apple pie,’ and he’s join the local Baptist church choir. They were very confused when he said he wanted to sing in the soprano section.

I’ve always found teeing off in a group of four very much more satisfying. I also like to get off first, so I can feel them all coming up behind me. I’m sure you know what I mean.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you tonight. It’s just to tell you I’ve recently added a new feature to my Premium Program. I’ve always had a great collection of tasks and hypnosis files for my CD friends and members. Now I have added some great new material to the Premium Program for those crossdressers who have a partner who you’d like to bring into your CD activities.

Yes, I’ve put together a special short empowerment course to help your wife or partner (of any gender) take a more dominant role. This fun series of self hypnosis recordings stimulates a more dominant aspect of the subject to emerge. Over the course of several nights they listen to hypnotic instructions that are sure to engage their more dominant self. This, coupled with a powerful set of ‘subservience’ instructions for you – and it’s a powerful tool for anyone wanting to engage their partner in some of their crossdressing.

I know you’ll love it. It’s yet another great reason to upgrade to Premium Program if you haven’t already.

🙂

Fiona.

Let me grab a towel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🙂

Fiona

Smart cars, dumb solutions.

First of all I’d like to say that I hope you are loving my programs. We have over 2500 gurls enjoying my helping hand… Wait, that sounds a little wrong. If you are not already in one of them, you should sign up today.  Anyway, I thought I’d share what I’ve been getting up to this week.

My gardener, Ali Ibrahim, pulled into my drive way in his Smart Car this on Tuesday. He’s been doing some topiary in my garden. With him was Sylvester, my mechanic. Now, Sylvester is a very large man and seeing him struggle out of Ali’s tiny car was rather like watching a man get out of an overcoat that is three sizes too small for him.

“I had no idea you knew Ali,” I said to Sylvester.

“I don’t. He gave me a ride from the highway. My truck broke down, again! Very kind of your friend Mr. Ibrahim to pick me up.”

The irony of this was not lost on me.

tumblr_o7psnopCet1uxh3kao1_500Sylvester was speaking very slowly, so Ali would understand him. So slowly, actually, that one might assume he thought Ali had some extreme form of learning disability. Sylvester was, of course, unaware that Ali had been a professor in a university in Damascus until eighteen months ago.

“He just pulled over and offered me a lift, and it turned out we were both coming to your place.”

“How fortuitous,” I said. Sylvester was looking a little dubiously at Ali, who in turn was smiling happily, as is his nature.

Sylvester took me aside and looking a little worried said “he keeps saying he can’t get his whores in his car.”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s very small.”

“Car no good for hoes,” said Ali, catching my eye, and nodding and smiling happily.

“Yes, Ali. I’m sure,” I said smiling.

I turned to Sylvester and said, “Ali is struggling a little with his English, but I think he’s trying to tell you that he doesn’t like the smart car because he can’t put his rakes and hoes and spade in the back. He’s got his small tools for working in the garden, but his large tools get… stuck. But you’d know all about that.”

Sylvester sniggered and turned to Ali and said, “Hoes, eh? Well come by my shop in the morning, ok?”

Ali smiled his enormous smile and nodded enthusiastically.

When Ali showed up at my place the yesterday to continue his work on remodelling my bush he came with the most extraordinary collection of tools on the back of his Smart Car. Sylvester had given him a nice new gun rack, salvaged from a car that had been written off.

Ever the inventive soul, Ali had fitted it and now uses it to carry his hoes and rakes and larger tools. And we all like larger tools.

But that’s not the main reason I am writing. There’s just one more week to go in which you can sign up for the Premium program, and get Free membership in My Little Black Book. So, if you’d like to save the $24.95 membership subscription simply pay the $35 subscription for the feminization program and then email me to let me know you are upgrading and I will set you up. This offer ends on the last day of the month.

🙂

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.

A little something extra.

A little something extra.

Sylvester, my mechanic, throws the most enjoyable parties, though sometimes they really do get quite out of hand. On one evening recently he had a rather fun night during which one of his friends decided they were intent on cornering me and plying me with drink, in the hopes that they might do unspeakable, but delightful things to my body.

“If you think you are going to get that in me,” I said to his friend, “you’re very much mistaken,” as he tried to press yet another drink on me.

“But, darling…” He oozed.

“Don’t ‘Darling’ me. If you think I’m swallowing your…” I was at a loss for words. “… your nonsense, then you must think I was born yesterday!”

Well, this evening I have something very special for you. This weekend I am starting a little thing I call Playtime With Fiona. So, if you’d like to play along have a listen HERE. It’s a fun little exercise for those of you who are a little concerned about dressing in public, or who are just starting out in their crossdressing journey.

So, have a listen and let me know if you enjoy it. The best way to show you liked it is to share it or post comments on Soundcloud.

By the way, I still have about 40 places available in Fiona’s Little Black Book. Currently these are free, but as soon as it goes over 200 entries it will become part of the paid program, so if you want to get into it while it’s still freeemail me saying you’d like to be listed in my Little Black Book. If you’d like to read about it, you can do so here: http://yes-sadie100.tumblr.com/flbb

Thinking about upgrading to the Premium Program? Email me and I’ll get it organised for you!

Fiona