Accept yourself as you are – create yourself as you desire.
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Become a Patron!Many of us look to the medical profession for guidance. Sometimes we should think twice about that. Our own communities are stronger and more educated than theirs. Until they get their heads around non-binary gender issues we should tread with caution.
FD
I am happy to say that a few friends and I have been able to gather safely, and socially distanced, in my garden of late. Seeing Sebastian, Sylvester and Bernard all sitting there, along with Marjory and Amanda was a very special treat after such a long time when gatherings have been a bad idea. I am thrilled to say that we’ve finally all ben vaccinated.
Each of my friends brought an item they had prepared themselves. Sebastian whipped out his lovely sausage, which I am sure you know I just can’t get enough of! Just when I think I can’t take any more of it, he surprises me with more.
I was however a little disturbed as Sylvester leaned suggestively over toward Amanda and asked her if she’d like to try a cream horn. He really can be quite coarse, you know. It did remind me though, I did have to speak to Amanda confidentially, and make something of an apology.
This was a matter which by its very nature is unpleasant, however, when Amanda had asked me about a little problem she has I felt obliged to assist. Now, as you know, Amanda is not exactly my favorite person being my wife’s friend and former lover from university. Anyway, it seems Amanda has a problem with something politely described as ‘hyperhidrosis’. In plain English this translates through to ‘she sweats like a gross pig’, something not all together surprising as she is the editor of Pig and Pig Farmer Weekly.
When she approached me confidentially to ask my advice, which as you are doubtless aware I offer without judgement or any desire to embarrass, I was happy to help the poor pig… oops… woman. Pointing out the fact that it may be a sign of more serious health issues, such as diabetes, infection or a thyroid issue, I suggested that the most likely cause was that she was a little out of shape and that she might think of getting more active. Perhaps she should go out with Bernard in his sailboat, or spend more time on her bicycle than in her Prius. Or occasionally walk somewhere.
“But, Fiona,” she replied by text, during a brief exchange, “I feel so embarrassed about my sweating. If I exercise more people will see it. I have great lines of sweat on my tee shirt, and under my arms.”
I pushed the gross imagery from my mind and suggested “Perhaps an antiperspirant…”
The texts flowed to and fro with her asking for recommendations, and as it happened the advertising agency for whom I work do handle an account for a large manufacturer of healthy personal products, so I suggested their antiperspirant stick product, which I had couriered over to her directly. We’re particularly proud of our association with this company, having suggested some slight revisions to the previously ungainly shape of the product. It is now sportily shaped in an aerodynamic style.
“It’s easy to use,” I texted her. “Just remove top and push up bottom.”
Well, needless to say I did not mean her to take the instructions quite so literally. I suppose when people depend on texts it is somewhat easy to take them a little out of context. Needless to say Amanda was experiencing a degree of discomfort, and I felt I should offer my sympathy.
By the way you can read more of any character I mention by drilling down into the hotlinked references to them, if you feel so inclined. It’s a fun way to explore the strange world I navigate daily.
I’d like to suggest a very worthy charitable cause for my members today. I don’t do this often, as I know not everyone is able to help. Today however I think it important to raise awareness of many of our sisters in quite dire need in India. It’s not easy being trans at the best of times but during a pandemic things can be extremely difficult. Of course, we can’t help everyone on the planet, but helping those where the buck goes furthest is probably not a bad idea. Anyway, check out this campaign, and if it resonates I am sure your help will not be unappreciated.
please donate if you canhttps://t.co/pLIUHNLRiu
— ًsia 🧈 (@lueurvk) April 25, 2021
Don’t forget to join me on Patreon, even at the $1 a month level. I love the close connection I have with my lovely members, and this helps me continue to do the work I love so much.
Have a lovely week and stay safe,
😊
Fiona
You’ll love this step by step guide with instructions to guide you through the process of gradually feminizing your man. Take him from macho to sissy – just as far as you wish. https://fionadobson.com/how-to-feminize-your-man/feminize-your-man-premium-program/
Is it time your partner embraced that side of himself that you know he needs to explore?
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.
You can find all the Jensen stories HERE.
please donate if you canhttps://t.co/pLIUHNLRiu
— ًsia 🧈 (@lueurvk) April 25, 2021
All I can say is that a little knowledge is a very dangerous thing. It all started so innocently.
Now, as you likely know, Amanda (my wife’s appalling friend), is something of a thorn in my side. My dear wife is currently in isolation in Dubai, or Mumbai. Somewhere.
Ever since my dog, Hannibal, had an unfortunate run in with an adult toy in her house, Amanda has been going on about getting a dog. It was therefore no great surprise when she called me to tell me she’d done so, but that she needed some help. Apparently she’d got herself a delightful little dog, a Chihuahua named Whisky.
Now, this shouldn’t be so hard to deal with. However, this particular dog was a real barker. Little Whiskey would bark whenever anyone came near the house and Amanda was extremely irritated by the incessant noise. She’d bought a shock collar to try and dissuade little Whisky from barking, but apparently there was something wrong with it. She called me to see if I could take a look at the device.
Naturally, I did what any sensible crossdressing advertising executive would do, and picked the thing up, and gave it to Sylvester – my mechanic – to see if he could fix it. I am a crossdressing advertising executive, not an engineer, after all.
Sylvester promptly strapped the device to one of his staff, and giving him a burst or two of the shock, it was evident that the batteries were flat. In no time he’d fitted new batteries and a small charge was transmitted to his workshop assistant. I thought it a rather unusual practice, but one that could be a breakthrough in personnel motivation. While a little controversial, it would doubtless result in greater productivity.
Sylvester laughed a little about this, and said he wanted to see if he could lift the output a bit, and we thought nothing more of it. As I was passing his workshop the following day, I wandered in and picked it up, even though Sylvester was out the back of the workshop polishing his chopper, as he so often is.
That night I dropped the collar off with Amanda, and she fitted it to little Whisky. I remember thinking, as I slipped into a long silk evening gown that night, that I should probably have tested the collar before giving it back to Amanda. I didn’t really give it much more thought.
So it was that, this morning I pulled into her driveway, stepped out of the car and a tiny white bundle of chihuahua hair came bounding out of the house in my direction. Little Whisky started yapping, the way he often does, and then quite suddenly he stopped. He seemed to stand bolt upright, twitch twice in silence and then he keeled over at my feet.
I stared at the catatonic form of Whiskey, my mouth open in surprise. I could barely believe my eyes. Then, from an upstairs window, Amanda leaned out and said, “That device works wonderfully well.”
Whisky was at my feet twitching. Evidently Amanda had heard the yapping, and hit the remote zapper. Unaware that the poor dog was twitching, and convulsing at my feet. As far as Amanda was concerned, the barking had stopped, and therefore the shock collar worked perfectly.
“Yes,” I said, maneuvering myself between her line of sight and the poor dog. “I think it works quite, errr, thoroughly.”
As her head disappeared into the house I picked up little Whisky. In a state of both panic and sympathy I wondered how you give mouth to mouth resuscitation to a chihuahua. As quickly as he’d been put into a seizure Whisky seemed to come back to life, and started licking my hand. I took the opportunity to remove the collar and slipped it into my pocket.
Poor Whisky, rather like Bernard, who had been tazered last year, looked quite disturbed. He was however a little quieter.
Now, I have to hurry off to Sylvester and have him reconfigure this thing before Amanda electrocutes the poor thing permanently. Doubtless, no good deed goes unpunished! However, before I finish, I’d like to remind a few of you who love to buy their clothes online that I do have a few great suggestions, and özel eğitim tanışma etkinlikleri fen ve doğa has even made some suggestions for those of a more sissy nature. When you click through on those links you help me out a lot, even when you don’t end up buying. At the foot of most of my posts I include a few suggestions. Be sure to explore them, and of course I love to hear about it if you’ve bought something particularly satisfying.
By the way if you are ever interested in learning more about the characters mentioned in the World Of Fiona Dobson you will find that the names are often hotlinked in their first mention in a post. If you click on this you will pull up all the posts in which they are mentioned, which gives you an interesting way in which to explore my community.
Be sure to support me on Patreon if you’re enjoying what I’m doing.
😊
Fiona
Become a Patron!
The many women who love to feminize their men can now enjoy FionaDobson.com even more. I’ve recently started a new Premium Program just for my lovely women members.
If you’d just like to try the basic program for women you can do so free here.
In the meantime there’s still all the wonderful content from Mistress Meg about women who feminize their men.
For the best in step by step guidance on feminizing your man be sure to check out my program.
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.
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.
Our mothers had secrets too, long before you were old enough to even think of what they might get up to when you were safely occupied at kindergarten or pre-school. Learn what happens when an old notebook reveals the sordid truths of the past.
Enjoy this ongoing series from Mistress Meg.
How you think about yourself is as important as the aesthetic of dressing. Here’s a great exercise to help you think in ways that will allow your feminine self to emerge. Give it a try.
You can find more of my content at http://Patreon.com/fionadobson
Should you wish to find some great ideas for androgynous clothing check out my Pinterest here – https://www.pinterest.ca/fionadobson2…
Be sure to subscribe!
🙂
Fiona
Become a Patron!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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