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Pronouns.

Like many of us, I never got to talk to my parents about things like sexuality and transgender topics.  Both of my parents would have been mortified to have the subject raised over the Sunday roast. And then they died.

To be fair, I don’t think either of them were quite ready to talk about such topics.  They were born in the 1930’s and these are subjects that simply weren’t on the agenda during their lifetime. That is not to say that they don’t have a contribution to make on the subject of ‘Pronouns’.

My mother, a girdle wearing statuesque woman of conservative English values, held one thing above all others. Politeness to others.  Had I told her that a guest in our house identified as a punk rock hamster, then out of deference to the wishes of a guest we would have had to refer to the hamster at the table with unquestionable politeness and respect. I suspect that had Stalin or Mao showed up in our English parlour for tea, we would be expected to hold out the chair, sit after they had taken their place and make polite conversation about the intemperate weather and the  promising outlook for the turnip crop this year.

Raising the subject of genocide, persecution of minorities or (God forbid) the forced labor camp deaths of homosexual prisoners would have been considered bad form and may have resulted in a reluctance to return for tea another time. Admittedly this exact scenario never played out in our home counties home, but I think you can see where I am going with this.

Equally, it can come as no surprise that when my father watched a documentary about German prisoners of war – a small number of which escaped from a prison camp in Northern England in 1944 – he stared at the television screen with visible disdain. For the Waffen SS officers to have dug a tunnel out of the confines of a prison with a desert spoon merited their being sentenced to hang immediately, if for no better reason than to do so using a desert spoon, before the use of main course cutlery, was practically a crime against humanity. Well, English humanity, at least.

So, I can say with absolute certainty that had someone come to the house and mentioned that their chosen pronoun was ‘they’, then the matter was settled. They would be a ‘they’ from that moment on.

As archaic as it may seem, this concept holds true as well today as it did in their lives. Whether straight, gay or any shade between, their principal object was to be polite and treat people with respect. To date I have yet to come across a system that improves on this simple behaviour. After all, when we do behave in this manner people do generally treat us with respect in return.

Now, I have to put the tea on. I’m expecting Kim Jong-un any moment. The supreme leader wouldn’t like it if I failed to warm the pot before he arrives.

Fiona

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10 Questions You Always Wanted To Ask A Gender Fluid Person.

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Rainbow’s sitting on my right hand at the kitchen table.

I’m so pleased to be able to write to you, in these troubled times it’s so good to be able talk to others just like myself. Perhaps you too get frustrated by the pace of modern life coming face to face the slowed down life we now lead due to Covid. Well, don’t worry, I’m here to help.

On the site there’s a host of content to help you get through the day, as well as some great hypnosis files that will help relax you. Just explore and you’ll find a ton of it.

Before I go on I should answer a query that’s come in from one of my members, Mildred from Colorado Springs.  In reply to her I have to point out that Minsk is a coastal city in northern Russia and not how a Russian drag queen walks down the street. I’m glad to have cleared that confusion up.

I also want to remind all my Patreon Members that you get a great part of the Patreon site that few people are really aware of.  There’s a community aspect here where you can post pics and even connect with other members. When you’re a member just go here – https://www.patreon.com/fionadobson/community  to participate.  It’s a lot of fun.

Life in Huckleberry Close is a little muted these days, as people reduce the number of people they’re seeing – reducing their ‘bubble’. Well, as inconvenient as it may be, I think we all understand that this is necessary. Personally I am using this time to get a little fishing in – socially distanced of course. I’m also enjoying reading a few more books than usual. It’s a chance to do some of the things I don’t usually get time to do.  For the moment I just don’t really feel comfortable with the idea of going out to restaurants, or getting on a plane.

Sadly Rainbow, who teaches at a local yoga studio, has been laid off, like so many others in that type of work. She’s asked me to help her with her resume and to help her apply for a few jobs. I asked her what qualifications she had, and if she’d graduated.

“Of course,” she replied while sipping her home made kombucha in my kitchen with Ali, my gardener, and I. “I have an advanced degree in Enlightenment with a minor in Colonic Irrigation from the Healing Light Yoga And Ayevedic Academy. I’m really not used to being unemployed.  It’s almost as if my spiritual GPS is not functioning.”

“Well, I’ll try to help, darling,” I told Rainbow, feeling a little doubtful that those were skills that are in particular demand at present. “Perhaps Sylvester knows someone. He’s quite well connected in Little Italy.”

“Oh yes, I know. That’s the area around Patel’s Pizzeria, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said helpfully. “He’s quite big in the business community there.”

Now, you’re probably wondering why that part of town is called Little Italy. You wouldn’t be the first to think it was because of the profusion of immigrants from years back. It’s got more to do with the fact that it changed sides three times during the second world war, though. A very confused part of town, you’ll agree.

Ali listened sympathetically to Rainbow describing her difficulties finding work.

“I sometimes feel like the goddess Kali has cursed me,” said Rainbow.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Ali sagely. “I mean, it’s not as if she’s going to chase you down the high street beating you with her many arms and laying about you with that nose, trunk, thing of hers. It’s not like she caught you drinking Coca-cola instead of your usual distilled water, after all.”

“I don’t think the goddess Kali would curse Rainbow for that,” I said to Ali, unsure if he was teasing her. I am most concerned that his English lessons sometimes miss the mark a little.

“You’re right Fiona,” agreed Ali. “Perhaps Sylvester has something for Rainbow in his workshop. After all he runs a very tight shipwreck.”

I look skeptically at Ali. It’s taken him time to settle into the ways of Canada which are a little different to those of his native Syria.

In these difficult times we are all making adjustments.

Now, I want to tell you all about some spectacular Mary Janes I have recently tried from Glamour Boutique, my favorite online store. First of all, the quality of these shoes is faultless. They fit my size 10 male, size twelve female, feet perfectly.  When I recently stopped by The Junction in Vancouver’s Davie Street, the boys were all very complementary, with comments ranging from how elegant they looked, to how good they’d look beside my favorite server’s bed.

These are a patent leather shoe, with a four inch heel – I can best describe it as being a heel size that say’s you’re somewhat innocent, and yet at the same time accessible and possibly a filthy little crotch ferret, much like myself. The dainty strap is equally at home being undone hurriedly after a night out, or being released by a lover’s teeth in a frenzied moment of passion.

Have a good look through Glamour Boutique’s site and be sure to mention my name when you order them. They’re a great company, reliable and always on point with quality merchandise. You need never feel awkward contacting them, and discretion is their watchword.

Now, I must get back to work. Sebastian, my personal trainer, is coming to give me a workout soon. He tells me he’s got an exciting new exercise regime he wants me to get into. Or vice versa. Something like that.

😊

Have a wonderful weekend.

Fiona.

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We are outsiders.

We are outsiders.

We are outsiders,

On the periphery,

Watching everyone else,

Pretending we’re like them,

But knowing we’re not.

The best we can hope for is to find a place where we don’t have to pretend.

Is home a place to run to, or a place we run from?

Only to hide out in places we’re more accepted, unconditionally.

Places that feel more like home to us,

because we can finally be who we are.

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The Stories Your Mother Never Told You.

There are stories which we choose not to share, for one reason or another. Perhaps it is related to shame or embarrassment. Or maybe we just hold them so dear, that in sharing them they would become devalued.

A friend of mine recently acquired a rather unusual collection of note books which I feel sure you will be delighted to read. He was an elderly man, I will not give very many details, as I would not wish to identify him in any way.

Wrapped in brown paper, of the sort people used for parcels many years ago, these note books were dusty hand written relics. I can well imagine them being tossed out with the trash when someone moved house, or recycled along with old copies of magazines when clearing out a loft or basement.

My friend explained that they had been among some personal papers found in a house that was being sold. The contents of these papers were at first a mystery, then quite surprising – and ultimately quite shocking.

I am thrilled to release these notes in their original sordid and salacious form. They are available to all my Seahorse members – through my Patreon Pages. Be sure to sign up to my Patrion and enjoy these extraordinary documents.

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We both know you’ll be happier as a gurl!

Come on, you know you want to wear the panties. Now sit down and let me hypnotise you. You’ll be so much happier as a gurl. Enjoy Stacey’s free hypnosis Here.

You possibly know Stacey, she helps out Mistress Meg. Get better acquainted with her by joining my Patreon for just $1 a month. If you are a sissie, you’re going to find it’s the best dollar you spend this month!

Fiona

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She Made Me Do It!

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Let’s shove it up a Proud Boy today.

My gardener, Ali is a Syrian refugee. He’s a lovely man, and he and his family are making a go of things in Canada, and doing exceptionally well. His girls are doing so well at school. When I recently asked him what he thought of ‘Proud Boys’ he said that while his home country was not very tolerant of their lifestyle, he personally felt that people’s lifestyle choices are their own affair.

Ali’s English is sometimes not quite what it might be. He’s been here a few years now, but he still sometimes struggles a little. He has become firm friends with Sylvester, my mechanic and confidante, and I commented on it recently saying how pleased I was that they get along so well.

He replied, “Ah, yes. Sylvester. He’s a very good person. We get along like a horse on fire.”

Which reminds me, I must chat with his English teacher. I believe Mistress Meg is acquainted with him – Professor Longstaff. If you follow my Patreon as a Seahorse you’ll have read about him.

“But Ali,” I said. “Surely you don’t agree with Mr. Trump, embracing the Proud Boys.”

He looked at me with some doubt in his careworn face.

“As I said, Mr. Trumps lifestyle choice is his own affair,” he replied. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

I sometimes struggle to understand if Ali is teasing me.

“But what about all this “Stand back and stand by” business?” I said pressing on in what I was beginning to feel was a pointless exercise.

“’Stand back and stand by’? I thought they said ‘stand back and bend over’!” said Ali.

I gave up and left him to continue raking up the fallen leaves. Don’t you just love the fall? You can find some fun fall clothing ideas on my Pinterest HERE.

Don’t forget to sign up for my Patreon and help me keep shoving it up the Proud Boys… I think you know what I mean.

😊

Fiona

PS. Don’t forget the Fiona Dobson Playlist.  It’s sure to uplift and help you through the day. Enjoy it here.

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Proudboys!

Yes – Loud and proud!

Sometimes the most powerful thing we have is words. When some violent hate group steps forward and starts promoting hate and division (while not even wearing heels, goddammit!) it’s up to all of us to resist.

Many of us in the LGBTQ community are taking back the words ‘Proudboys’ and repurposing them. I’m thrilled to see #ProudBoys trending on Twitter in a way those loser cucks never imagined.

Kiss a ProudBoy today!

Fiona

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You can be a gurl for me tonight – Stacey.

You can be a gurl for me tonight. Enjoy this self hypnosis from Mistress Meg’s little helper, Stacey. Listen to this video and then come and enjoy some more hypnosis files here: https://www.patreon.com/fionadobson?filters[tag]=hypnosis 

Stacey helps out Mistress Meg. You can find her by joining my Patreon at the Seahorse Level.  She can be a most persuasive friend.

Enjoy yourself and be sure to let me know how you like it.

FIona

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Auntie’s naughty secret.

I am going to share a little secret with you. I just love to dress my nephews. Actually, anyone for that matter. I know it’s a little shocking, but that’s just the kind of girl I am.

The first time I do so is usually for  punishment of some sort. Perhaps a transgression, either real or imagines, but I have the excuse. I usually do something like tell them that to learn respect they must wear something of my daughters – perhaps these lovely pink panties that I have conveniently to hand. An hour or so of that will give them the chance to consider their misdemeanors properly.

I hand them some silk lacy panties from a draw of her things which I’ve kept since she moved out to go to university. They take them, looking nervous, and then always look at me with those big eyes of the totally subservient. I’ve done this many times though.  They will find no pity there. I know precisely what I am doing.

They take them, usually a little unsure, and then one of two things happen. Either they take them and run upstairs and put them on or they drop their pants and slip out of their underwear and slide them on.

It’s a wonderful moment when all the cousins join in.

I will then generally tell them to pull up their pants and that I will let them know when they can change back. Of course, I have a terrible memory and promptly forget. Or so they think.

The next time I decide to do this I will usually insist they wear tights as well. I have several pairs pink and white tights, they look very girly. I do so love the way they look. I can usually tell that my nephews are a little excited by the prospect.

The second time I rarely go very much further, preferring the poor little scamps to get used to it. And they do.  I have sent the little monsters to my daughters room as a punishment before, only to surprise them after a few minutes and find them trying on her skirts or a blouse.

By the third time it’s usually evident that they’re not only excited by the prospect, but secretly craving it. That’s usually when I insist on calling them by a nice feminine name. Gerald becomes Geraldine, or Jeanie. Phillip becomes Phillipa or Pippa. I know they love that. The blush on their cheek tells me so.

I do wonder what these little seedlings will grow to be. I do know that they will bring great pleasure to their friends, though. And in the end, isn’t that what it’s all about?

I’d love it if you’d join my Patreon, as I need to get just a few more members. And remember, for just $1 a month you get not only my diary, but also Clothes Maketh The Man, some wonderful hypnosis MP3’s and more a whole lot more. Join up today and help me build up my followers.

Become a Patron!

Auntie Kittie.

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What are you going to catch this fall?

As this month draws to a close I am forced to reflect on a couple of things.  The first is that as I look forward to the fall I know that all the lovely clothes I like to wear with browns and the russet colors of this time of year are ready to replace the summer clothes I’ve been wearing.  A long skirt with earth tones looks so nice. I’m looking forward to putting together some new outfits along a fall theme.

I should also make a quick correction in the advice I recently gave to my member Mildred, from Colorado Springs. When I suggested a pair of sugar tongs can easily be used to pull fur balls from a cat, I should have pointed out that these are in the cat’s throat. I’m glad I’ve cleared that one up.

Sylvester appeared in my kitchen today just as the coffee was percolating. He was full of himself, freshly back from a trip out of town, with my neighbour Marjory and her girlfriend, Amanda (the queen of tweed). This unlikely trio spelled trouble, without a doubt.

Like so many other businesses, Sylvester’s workshop has seen a little bit of a slow down during this Covid period. People seem to be travelling much less, and so they need less work on their vehicles. A mechanic’s life is not an easy one in times like this. Having said that, poor Rainbow, Sebastian’s sister, is teaching no yoga classes at all, and her usual way of supplementing her income by waitressing is a total washout. I suppose we should all be as supportive to anyone in the hospitality trade as we can.  I shall bake Rainbow a nice gluten-free peach cobbler, which is sure to make her feel better.

I poured an ethically sourced coffee for Sylvester and myself, pulled the grey blue satin wrap I was wearing around my body, exposing my recently shaved legs and contemplated my pink fluffy slippers as Sylvester stared at his phone. Don’t you think it so rude when people spend more time staring at their screen than the person they’re with? Sylvester can be really quite coarse at times.

“Marjory took this great photograph, have a look,” said Sylvester passing me the device.

I cast a critical eye over it.

“She’s not a bad photographer,” I said looking at the picture of Sylvester fly fishing.

“Yes,” replied Sylvester admiring the picture. “I think she really caught something there.”

“Yes. Covid, perhaps. Or Chlamydia, more likely.”

Sylvester looked a little crestfallen and said, “It’s not like that.”

“Of course it isn’t.” I replied. I’ve made no secret of my disapproval of Sylvester pursuing Amanda. The poor sap seems completely unable to control his desires.

“Though, I must admit,” he continued, “if Marjory wasn’t on the scene…” His voice trailed off and he stared into the distance lost in thought, before adding, “I can imagine making sweet music with her.”

“I’m sure you can,” I said skeptically. “Perhaps she could be the clap machine.”

But all this playful banter is not the main reason I’m writing tonight. It’s to suggest that if you haven’t already joined my Patreon it would be delightful to see you in there. You can join for as little as $1 a month.  If you’re already a member, thank you for making this blog possible. I’d love to lift my Patreon membership to over 175, and try as I might I don’t seem able to crack that number. With your help I’ll get there in the end.

One last note… Yeah, we’re in a second wave. Here in Canada, in the UK and in the US. Don’t be a Covidiot. Mask up and enjoy the ride. Here are some cool ideas to help. https://youtu.be/wJu9EyPK8gw and https://www.pinterest.ca/fionadobson22/masks-with-style/

Have a lovely weekend and stay safe.

Fiona

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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 $10 a month. Join the many members who are finding more acceptance and happiness in this wonderful part of their life.
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Jensen And The Lady Of The Manor.

When Jensen finds he’s been made redundant by the company he’s given twenty years service, he decides to turn to a life of crime. Unfortunately his latest victim has other ideas.

Ms. Katia Thornwood’s list is available in it’s entirety here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ten-tasks-for-of-37281389

Enjoy the first story in this new series.

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Jensen And The Lady Of The Manor – Part 3.

Jensen puts his skills to good use in this latest episode. But wasn’t it all just a little too easy? Enjoy this latest episode from http://FionaDobson.com – the crossdressing blog you’ll love even if you’ve never tried on your sister’s panties.

Ms. Katia Thornwood’s list is available in it’s entirety HERE.

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