The Dating Game – Part 3 – By Mollie Blake.

A Singapore Sling

In the third part of Mollie’s story we continue to follow David, or ‘Diana’ and Lucy. Part 1 can be found here.

“You’ve got a free trip to Singapore? You lucky sod!”

David’s best friend, Lucy, had him chuckling into his phone. “Yeah, but hey! I have to work for it.”

“Work, my arse! You’re just gonna chat about your precious topic on some quantum physics shite, and then have a ball with whoever’ll fondle yours for you.”

“Fat chance of that with Singapore’s lack of LGBT rights. Anyway, I’m scheduled to give three lectures with Professor Amanda Lo. I’ll be flying home before I know it.”

David cast a quick glance at the sleek turquoise gown hanging on the back of the door. At the very least he planned on having an evening out, just for himself, with the chance to be who he wanted to be.

“You’re just jealous.” He laughed, relaxed now that he was almost ready to leave his apartment for five days. “I promise I’ll bring you something back.”

“It had better not be chlamydia.”

“Ha bloody ha.”

Continue reading “The Dating Game – Part 3 – By Mollie Blake.”

A Rainbow Mermaid Dress – What every gurl needs.

..

Today I’m featuring this lovely hand made dress. You can learn more about Christina here: https://twitter.com/Interrobang_Art

You can also find her beautiful Etsy shop HERE.

We want to support Christina for a few reasons. First of all, she’s a wonderful and creative person. Second, her mum’s not been well and is recovering from surgery. And third she eats cheesecake for breakfast.

If you like her work drop her a line and support her wonderful designs. If you let her know you’re a crossdresser she’s going to look after you.

🙂

 

Fiona

 

– http://FionaDobson.com

 

 

Bernard Gets A Shock.

Well, I hardly know where to start! This week was eventful, to say the very least. On Friday night last week, Bernard my photographer called me very urgently to tell me he needed me to get ready to fly to Hawaii to do a shoot.

Usually I have a little time to prepare, but we ended up flying out on Saturday morning to the spectacular Pacific island I love so very much. Poor little Bernard. He has been under a lot of pressure lately. What with all that travel, and deadlines, and goodness knows what. Anyway, by the time we headed back to Chicago, where we had a meeting on Tuesday, I had noticed he was not looking well.

Bernard has been very odd lately. As you likely know he’s about 48, I would guess. He’s like a sort of uncle to me, I suppose. However, of late he’s been very curious about me, and has been even a little amorous. It’s flattering, but I must say, when I play I usually like to play a little below my age.  I think you know what I mean.

Now, I often love to travel in yoga pants, as they are just so comfortable, and show off my legs nicely. I had noticed Bernard looking at me in a somewhat hungry way. I think you know, I do like to tease him a little, but – well, I really don’t think what happened was my fault. Really.

So, we arrived at O’Hare airport and were waiting for our bags  in the arrival area. What happened was rather extraordinary. I slipped off to the ladies, noticing how Bernard was watching my bum as I walked to the bathroom, and freshened my make up and swapped my travel tee shirt for a fresh one. I always do this, as I like to arrive feeling clean and fresh. I slipped on my heels, which I’d been carrying in my shoulder bag, and brushed my hair. I must say I did look very exciting.

When I stepped out of the bathroom some excitement was going on in the terminal, and I walked back to wear Bernard was. There was some sort of security people running about. Bernard was watching me as I walked, very poised in my heels, toward him. I could tell his excitement was all about me. He was sitting, clutching his Starbucks coffee in his lap.

Now, I have a pretty good idea when a guy looks at me and gets ‘excited’. Bernards baggy cargo shorts were, how should I phrase this, ‘a little disarranged’ by his excitement. His eyes were practically popping out of his head as I walked over to him, turned and sat beside him.

Now, that’s when things began to go wrong. One of those handsome police officers and his friend came running our way, and getting people to move to the far end of the arrivals hall. He shouted at us to stand up, and carry our bags to the far end of the hall. I stood up, but as I glanced at Bernard, I could see he was hesitating. I quickly realised that in his state of excitement it would be very embarrassing for poor little Bernard.

I  leaned over him, and his eyes dropped to my cleavage. I said, “Bernard, we really should go!”

He looked worried, and said, “Wait, errr… errr…”

And then this police officer was suddenly shouting for Bernard to stand up, and the poor dear was white as a sheet. Next thing I know Bernard is being Tazered and twitching like a freshly landed trout.

Later, when I got home and was telling Ali, who was working in my front garden, his first comment to me was, “No, they can’t do that!”

“Well, he did!” I explained.

“But he’s not even black!” said Ali.

“You can’t say that,” I admonished Ali. “In America every one is equally unequal under the law. You need to remember that!”

Silly old Ali! Anyway, Bernard ends up rushed off to hospital. It was terrible, although I must say the nurses had very nice little uniforms. I was quite taken with them. As I say, I can’t bring myself to feel responsible, but theren is a moral to this story. If a policeman asks you to move, even if you have an erection, it may be a good idea to comply!

I shall be sure to keep you informed about Bernard’s progress. He’s currently in the hospital. I am most concerned. I shall put together a nice outfit and go back to visit him after the weekend.

Now, that was not the main reason I am writing to you. I have a lovely new sound file for you.

I know you will want me to keep you informed of Bernard’s progress, so I shall be sure to let you know how he is.

Have a lovely weekend!

🙂

Fiona

PS – If you’re reading this on my blog, you can jump to here to find out what happened next.

Unhand that banana!

Hi,

Seldom, if ever, do I like to come between friends (calm down Amber, in Colorado). Yet this morning I came down the stairs having had a refreshing shower to find Sylvester shaking Sebastian vigorously by the neck. I leaped in, interposing myself (phrasing) between them, my colorful summer swing dress swishing about me.

“Calm down, boys!” I said, as I struggled to hold them apart.

“I will not calm down!” said Sylvester, still fuming. “He said he wants me in a three way!”

I glanced at Sebastian. I’d always had my suspicions. He glared at me, Sylvester’s grip loosening.

“Sylvester, I think you should put Sebastian down. He’s gone a funny color. Besides, you might enjoy…”

“I was trying to explain three way calling,” chimed in Sebastian, as the color came back to his face. “All I said was, “would you like to join Max and I in a three way?””

 

“Well, I think I see where the confusion’s crept in,” I said. “Perhaps Max and you could help Sebastian get a little more utility from his smart phone. You know, Sylvester, I’ve seen your messages that end with that quaint little expression, “Sent from a phone that’s smarter than I am.” I think in your case it might well be true.”

Thirty minutes later Sylvester was being watched by three of us marveling as he attempted to open a Soundcloud song that had been shared over Watsapp.

“It’s quite remarkable,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s like watching a monkey try to operate a type writer.”

“Come on, Sylvester. You’ve got 999,999 more tries to go! Given enough time,” said Sebastian very softly, “some people believe that enough monkeys would type the complete works of Shakespeare.”

You could almost feel the gears inside Sylvester’s head grinding. He frowned again, and prodded the file in the Watsapp window.

“999,998.” Said Sebastian softly.

Max moved toward the fruit bowl, so kindly made by one of my members, and reached for a banana.

“Don’t,” I said to Max reproachfully.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. I thought I’d share a rather wonderful BBC article with you. In this piece about the people of Guna Yala, their unusual lifestyle is examined. As a child develops they are allowed to move toward a more male or female orientation. While this is still essentially binary in nature there is clearly a more equal approach to gender. There is also a greater choice in how the Guna present themselves. It’s a fascinating read and I hope you enjoy it.

As summer moves toward its close, you may like to think about a lovely swing dress.  You can find some ideas here. There’s also an opportunity there to help out Sebastian’s sister, who’s got herself into a bit of a bind. Maybe you’ve got an idea how to help her out.

Don’t forget, we’ve started one on one coaching sessions, and our Premium Program is growing all the time.

Have a lovely week,

🙂

Fiona

Continue reading “Unhand that banana!”

Making the most of summer.

As summer moves toward its gentle close, and the warming glow of the forest fires in the distance thankfully fade, I am forced to remind myself to make the best of the last weeks of this glorious summer.

What better way to celebrate the sun and move toward fall than by enjoying the soft flow and movement of a stylish and comfortable swing dress. I was saying this to myself as Sebastian sat, dejectedly at my table in the kitchen.


 

He was staring intently at his phone, a frown firmly welded to his face.

“What on earth’s the matter?” I said, pouring a glass of organic free range goats milk.

“It’s my sister, Charmaine” he said. “She’s so wonderful. But…”

“But what?” I asked.

“But she’s just posted a picture on her Instagram, and there’s a great big ring on her finger. She’s engaged.”

“What delightful news,” I said with a smile.

“Well, it would be delightful. You see she went to Cuba, a lovely little village, and met this wonderful man she’s fallen in love with.  She flies back every few months and is so in love.”

“But Sebastian, this is wonderful news,” I gushed. “I’m so happy for Charmaine.”

Sebastian’s sister is so sweet. She has been waiting for the right man so long, and finally her prince has come.

“Well, it would be wonderful. Except this last time she flew to Cuba she was supposed to be at her grandmother’s funeral, and cried off saying she was broke.”

“Oh,” I said.

“And since my mother’s now discovered Instagram, it’s only a matter of time till she learns that instead of planting my dear old granny, she was out gallivanting around the place getting herself engaged to a Cuban. I can almost hear the clock ticking.”

I spread the lovely dress out as I sat, and turned to Sebastian to reassure him.

“Darling,” I said, “I’m sure your grandmother wants nothing less than her grand daughter’s happiness. Besides, the old trout will never know. And your mother will get over it. Your sister has found something magical. and that’s really what counts, isn’t it?”

I know my readers well enough to know that you may have a suggestion to help me here. Help me out and use the comments to suggest what Charmaine should tell her mother.

 

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

Such goings on about the place!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s gone rogue!” screamed Amanda.

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

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

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

Have a wonderful weekend.

Fiona

Fluid Movements.

As you are probably aware I lead a strange and varied existence. Since Angelina has returned to Los Angeles, I’ve been very busy and had a houseful of friends today. As luck would have it my personal trainer, Sebastian, brought a friend of his over for my workout, and we opted to do something a little different.  She was a delightful little thing and came to teach a yoga class.

This was wonderful, as I’ve recently bought some stunning new leggings, which when worn with a little pink tee shirt combines to make a lovely simple outfit. Misha, the yoga teacher also had cooked a delightful curry, which we enjoyed and then sat about talking for about an hour before laying out a few mats and beginning the class.

Now, I should point out that Sylvester, my mechanic, who had dropped by to help me with some lubrication issues, is something of a stranger to Yoga, but having enjoyed some curry, decided to join our little class. I also had Ali, my Syrian gardener join us. Bernard my photographer, happened to have come round for tea, still recovering from being Tazered and having a heart attack, also joined us.  It really was a full house.

Max, my neighbors 19 year old son, who I must say I find spending far too much time goggling at me, also took time to join us. It was quite a lovely group. I have on many occasions lately, noticed how Max has been looking at me. I think he’s given himself one too many selfies lately, if you get my drift. Can’t be good for the eyesight!

Sylvester shifted uneasily as he took up a ‘warrior 2’ pose, and Misha cooed that yoga is all about fluid movements. Bernard glanced at Sylvester, who lurched into another position, and grunted that the curry was taking care of the fluid movements – and quietly slipped off to the bathroom.

Ali was looking off into the far distance, very serenely, enjoying every moment. When Sylvester returned he adopted a pose that resembled a shed in a car park, more than it did a yoga position. That said, his body is very muscular. Almost Neanderthal, actually.

Max, positioned behind me as I adopted a forward fold from the hips, stared with adolescent lust. I couldn’t help thinking of the many handed god Vishnu, and how Max wouldn’t mind being him about now.

We did enjoy the class and as it wrapped up Misha told us all how she loved the yoga lifestyle. She teaches and also has a small business selling soaps and perfumes. She’s a very creative young lady.

“I’ve even released my own fragrance,” she commented.

Looking very uncomfortable with the situation, Sylvester added that he had as well, and hurried to the bathroom once more.

Life really is never dull!

If you have not already signed up for the Premium Program please consider doing so. I have some great exercises and tasks in there for all my gurls.  Before you know it you’ll have your ankles behind your ears and be enjoying fluid movements of your own!

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

Fiona

Come and sit on my Zamboni.

Hi,

I am out of breath as I write this. I’ve only just got home after a most disturbing incident. I feel I have to write and tell you about it.

The day started calmly enough. I did my early morning yoga class, and then as I sipped a morning coffee I watched Ali, my gardener, picking figs from a tree I have in the garden. He really is a treasure, and as I went out to check on my bees, who are prodigiously working away producing honey, I could hear him humming a strange tune.

I am finding these summer mornings delightful. It’s my usual practice to wear something simple – a plain tennis skirt, some wedges, and a pastel top. I like to keep things very simple. My brightly colored nail polish sets it all off rather stylishly.

Ali glanced round and saw me in the garden and then fell into silence for a moment.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully, and carefully selected a juicy fig and handed it to me. “Such a health food, and a perfect one for you.”

“I do appreciate healthy foods, Ali,” I mused as I bit into the succulent fruit.

“That must be how you keep so trim,” he continued. “And is it not written that it is easier for a fat man to enter the kingdom of heaven, than to pass through the eye of a camel.”

I frowned and said, “I don’t think it is written. At least nowhere I’ve read it.”

I do wonder about Ali’s English. He was a professor of botany in Syria, before the terrible crisis over there. However, since coming here he’s been studying English. I’m not quite sure where his difficulty with English begins and his sense of irony ends. I added, “However, that is a perfect fig.”

It really is peaceful in my garden. The ripe fruit and soft early morning sun on my face reminded me how very fortunate I am to live here. Canada is truly a blessed country.

Picking up my bag and cell phone I decided to make the most of the morning, and took Hannibal, my dachshund, for his morning walk. As I strolled down Huckleberry Close I got a call from Sylvester, who has been learning to drive the Zamboni at the local ice arena. He’s really becoming quite skilled. He called to ask if I wanted to have breakfast with him at a café nearby. Naturally I agreed. They do the most delightful croissants, orange juice and coffee. The mother of the family that runs the café keeps bees and brings in her own honey. It’s really most delightful.

And so as Marjory was leaving for work, rather than drive I asked for a lift and rode with her the three miles to the arena, where she dropped me and decided to join us for breakfast. I think that after some years Marjory is warming to me. She still finds me a trifle odd, but she’s been a lot more settled since she started dating my wife’s childhood friend, Amanda.

Marjory and I walked into the huge ice arena, and there across the rink was Sylvester driving the Zamboni. The cool air wafting off the ice was a welcome relief from the heat. When Sylvester looked up he recognized Marjory and I and stopped the big ice grading machine.

“Come on over,” he shouted across the ice. “You want a ride?”

I’ve never been on a Zamboni before, so Marjory and I gingerly stepped out on the ice and tottered across to the vehicle. For those not familiar with the Zamboni, it’s a vehicle driven on an ice rink to resurface the ice. We do this so that the hockey games are played on a very flat surface. Ice has small crenelations if not properly smoothed making it unpleasant to skate, and the Zamboni does the job very well. Sylvester has been learning the skill recently, and now does the occasional turn at the arena cleaning up the surface for the skaters, and preparing it for the ritual slaughter of foreign hockey teams that keeps Canadians so amused. Really, it does. And they just keep coming back for more!

I stepped up onto the vehicle, my little tennis skirt riding a little high as I did so. Marjory followed me, looking a little bemused, and then Sylvester was off and driving around the ice, leaving a smooth glasslike finish behind us.

Now, keep in mind this was very early in the morning, and through the large windows out in the deserted car park I could see Marjory’s solitary car. As we rode around the ice I noticed someone was doing something to Marjory’s little car. The next thing I knew, the car was pulling away toward the exit of the car park.

“Marjory,” I said. “I think someone’s stealing your car!”

She looked out of the window, and sure enough, she shouted, “My car! My car!”

With remarkable composure Sylvester swung the big machine around toward the huge doors of the arena. He hit a remote control and the doors slowly began to open. I have to say I was most surprised at the turn of speed the Zamboni then displayed. Accelerating toward the opening doors Marjory and I clung on to our swarthy friend as the Zamboni flew off the ice and started out across the car park.

“Don’t worry,” said Sylvester, his hair swept back in the morning air as we raced across the car park. “I’ll catch him!”

The little car was exiting the car park and moving out into the slow moving morning traffic. Sylvester piloted the Zamboni skillfully out into the road and we shouted after the car thief, who was becoming increasingly ensnared in the traffic as we maneuvered between lanes, to the surprise of other drivers.

While Marjory called the local police, I hung on to the Zamboni and Sylvester steered us skillfully between cars with startled drivers looking incredulously at us as we navigated down the road in the ice smoothing machine.  It’s really not the sort of things you expect to see on the morning commute in 32 degrees of heat (89 degrees Fahrenheit).

As the cars ground to a halt at the traffic lights ahead, a police car appeared and started cutting through the traffic. Marjory was talking to the emergency operator, who relayed her instructions directly to the police cruiser.

A moment later the traffic stopped, police car on one side of Marjory’s car, and Zamboni halted flush with the drivers side. Marjory’s little car was completely boxed in. It was at this point that I decided it might be wise to make myself a little scarce. With a smile to Sylvester and a polite wave to the car thief, who was trying in vain to open the car door, I slipped of the Zamboni and made my way to the sidewalk.

As I left I could hear the sound of other sirens. Likely this would turn into a dogs dinner of police and press and god knows what.

At that moment the appalling Amanda called my cell.

“What on earth’s going on with Marjory? I’m trying to phone her and it just rings and rings,” she said sounding both annoyed and annoying.

“Ahh…. Her phone’s probably in her car.”

“So?” came the reply.

“Well, nothing really…” I wasn’t going to get into that with Amanda.

So, next time someone asks you if you’d like a ride on a Zamboni, keep in mind it may not go the way you planned. So much for breakfast! I’m sure Sylvester and Marjory will be occupied for a while there. I felt it best to hurry home to my kitchen, where I am writing this to you now.

It’s been a very busy week here. Katia has been doing several coaching sessions with coaching clients. That seems to be going down very well. We’re also finding a great deal of new content appearing on the website. We’re extending our best wishes to Kelly, who is recovering from an operation you can read about here. You can pass on your good wishes by leaving a message in the comments. We’ve also got a new audio episode of The Making Of A Mistress from Katia, and a great story from Mollie Blake about waxing. This week we also carried a fascinating story about transvestites in Kenya.

I hope you’re enjoying the site. If you’re not, just come back a couple of days later and you’re likely going to find a whole lot of different content!

Have a lovely week,

🙂

Fiona

Kelly’s operation.

This is a rather poignant exchange, used with permission, that shows how some of our members struggle. Life’s hurdles are made more complex for those of us searching for our inner gurl.

I hope you read the following exchange with kindness and the way it’s intended. Kelly is now recovering and you can leave your good wishes in the comments below.  FD

I received this from Kelly some weeks ago –

I found out this morning that my right foot is going to be amputated below the knee. And since the news my place has been people coming and going. Haven’t had a moment to myself to have a good cry. My fault for not getting to the doctors earlier just kept putting it off. So, I will have to wait on this and I was looking forward to enjoying my time of learning more about myself and inner woman. So sorry to have bothered you. Sincerely Kelly


We exchanged a few messages, and this morning this came in.

 

Ah Miss. Fiona,

I had my right leg amputated and now have to wait 8 weeks to heal. Then I’ll go back and have some screws removed all in good time.

Whenever I can sneak away from prying eyes I look at some of the other C.d.ers and wonder to myself how in the world can they wear those dresses and mini skirts and not be noticed that they are men. And some of them are beautiful and gorgeous, I must say.

I look, then think am I am a pervert for looking. It is going to take me a long time to even start, for I have to look in a mirror and get used to the idea that my leg is gone. But what can I say, or do, it’s my fault. But when the time is right I shall jump at the chance once again for to many years neglecting my inner needs.

So with sincerity I will close, and thank you.

Kelly


And here’s my response:

Hi Kelly,

First of all, ‘no’, you’re not a pervert. Those of us who choose to allow the feminine side of our personality to emerge are neither sick nor perverted. We are simply finding our way.

For many people the path is confusing. However, there are some who have blazed a trail and we can learn from them. Primary in our thoughts should be the fact that while we’re searching, it’s really a quest to discover ourselves. As one progresses along this road one realises that it’s more about accepting who we really are than imitating the female form. Acceptance that ‘this is who I am’ is the most important part.

Your amputation does not change ‘who you are’ one iota. There are many genetic females who also have their legs amputated. I cannot begin to imagine being in your shoes – or should I say ‘shoe’ – however, I do think a good idea may be to look at what a feminine amputee might wear. What is considered good for them? You see, nothing has changed. You are who you are; as you embrace that then, sure, you’ll have to deal with the health issue. However, it need not detract from the search for ‘Kelly’.

My thoughts go out to you, and my hopes and prayers. In the meantime, put your best foot forward (an easier choice now) and hop into a brighter future.

🙂

Fiona

And finally: –

Oh thank you Miss Fiona,

Doctor wants me to sit in front of a mirror so my mind can accept the fact my leg is gone. And yes after i go through all this emotional change to my body I will pursue my dreams. Just bear with me on this deal but thank you for the encouraging words.

Sincerely Kelly

 

Please use the comments section below to pass on your best wishes.

Hannibal the vibrating dachshund.

What a strange and disturbing week it has been. Sometimes it takes more than lipstick to keep that smile in place. And yet we do, and the world is still a wonderful place.

Some of you may be aware of my wife’s good friend Amanda, the queen of tweed. As you may remember, she stayed at our house sometime ago, while her house was being fumigated.

Well, Amanda had left a few things at our house and I agreed to take them over to her house. It was not so far off my track as I was walking Hannibal, my pet dachshund, so it was no bother. When I arrived at her house in the early evening the other day I was surprised to find I had arrived while she was taking a shower. She appeared at her doorway looking like a giant panda, in a black and white dressing gown and after letting me in, she asked me to wait in the living room as she slipped into something more comfortable. This was a thought that was truly disturbing in it’s own way, but for my wife’s sake I waited patiently.

As I waited Hannibal did his usual thing of nosing around the place. To my surprise he was preoccupied with something underneath her couch, and while Amanda got dressed in her bedroom. I waited patiently, listening to the snuffling sounds coming from Hannibal, until I was a little disturbed to hear a particular humming sound emanating from beneath the furniture.

A moment later Hannibal appear clutching what can only be described as an adult toy between his teeth. He was chewing it’s silicon form and seemed very surprised that it was fighting back, vibrating away in his mouth. To be fair, his surprise was understandable, the device being almost as large as he is.

Wanting to avoid the embarrassment of Amanda finding Hannibal playing with a personal possession, I tried to grab the object, but thinking this was a game he took off, running first into the kitchen and then into Amanda’s basement. I gingerly followed, cursing his minute form and enormous curiousity.

It was only when I cornered Hannibal that I could wrestle the object from him, at which point I heard Amanda’s enormous feet descending the stairs. I slipped the toy into my pocket and found my way back to the living room as Amanda walked in.

“I’m so sorry to have kept you, it’s simply lovely of you to bring these things over…” There was an awkward pause. I realized Amanda was staring at my jeans. I shifted awkwardly.

“Really, it’s no trouble,” I said. I like to wear tight figure hugging jeans, and usually a pastel tee shirt. It’s a fairly androgynous look, and I find it works if I am not dressing in my femme style.

“Goodness,” said Amanda, unable to avert her eyes from my pants. I glanced at myself and saw the clear and defined outline of the toy. To Amanda I must have appeared extremely glad to see her.

“I should be going,” I said awkwardly, my mind racing, trying to sidle toward the door, and noticing Amanda seemed to be getting between me and the only exit.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I think I’m seeing a new side of you. I am beginning to understand what Maggie sees in you. Perhaps you want to stay a while. A drink perhaps?”

Amanda’s eyes were unashamedly devouring my groin, drawn to my physique by the enormous toy in my pocket.

“I really must go,” I said, trying to hide my aparently enormous embarrasment.

“Oh, no. Before you do, I have that book Maggie was asking to borrow. Let me get it for you!” Amanda rushed off and in a moment I had pushed the device under the sofa, and was turning to walk to the door when Hannibal realized the toy was once again in play. To Hannibal, this is a challenge, first to find it and then to run around with it until someone catches him. To my horror he scurried under the sofa and just as Amanda returned, Hannibal emerged from beneath the furniture with a powerful buzzing sound, moving backwards across the hardwood floor being quite literally vibrated around the room.

“Hannibal,” I said, feigning surprise. “What on earth have you got there?”

There was an awkward chase, culminating in Amanda relieving a strangely satisfied dachshund of the object, and I grabbed the book and headed straight for the door, leaving an embarrassed and confused Amanda to her own devices – literally.

However that is not the main reason I am emailing you. I’ve just put up a new episode of “Playtime With Fiona” on Soundcloud. You can find all my Soundcloud posts HERE.

I’d love to see you in my Premium Program soon. I think you know you’ll enjoy it.

Fiona

PS. If you are not a full member think about signing up – http://genr8tor.com/membership/ . When I see payment go through I will start you on your path. I work though everyone’s messages a couple of times a day and work to get you moving quickly. I know you’ll love it. Email me to let me know you’ve upgraded.

Fiona.

If you don’t like the cucumber, you can always take it out.

I groaned and pushed a little harder, then looked up into Sebastian’s eyes.

“If you don’t like the cucumber,” I said gasping, “you can take it out.”

Sebastian was sitting beside my car as I was loading a heavy picnic hamper into it. He watched me, not really helping very much, still nursing a painful injury sustained this week. Sebastian and I do love to go for picnics in the summer. As you likely know I am very active in the kitchen, and more than happy getting the finest quality epicurean delights to slip between Sebastian’s gluten free buns. In fact, now that I think about it, that’s very reminiscent of what I was doing this very night gone by! For some reason, after I’d made some delicious cheese and cucumber sandwiches he let me know he doesn’t really like cucumber! Perhaps he’ll enjoy it better if I insert salami instead.

It’s been a very busy week. I’ve been working hard at the advertising agency, compiling a report about the decline of indoor games for one of my clients. While there’s been a drop in people playing Clue (Cludo if you’re in the UK) and Monopoly, five out of six people do still enjoy Russian Roulette. I find the results of that particular survey both surprising and a little disturbing.

Sebastian and I are having a picnic by the water, as he’s recovering from a minor incident at the hospital. As you possibly know, he’s quite committed to alternative therapies. You may remember he lamented not having his homeopathic first aid kit when Bernard, my photographer, was shot in the chest with a carrot. During his latest medical exam, when the doctor told him that Mercury was rising in Uranus he thought that modern medicine was embracing astrology. Apparently this was not the case, and the thermometer had broken whilst in use.

This, however, is not the main reason I’m writing to you today. I wanted to let you know that our wonderful Katia Thornwood is now offering personal one on one crossdressing coaching sessions online. She’s a delight to work with, and if you’d like someone to talk with about crossdressing, or some guidance in terms of how to advance a little in your practice, she’s very happy to oblige. These sessions are scheduled at the time most convenient for you and can be very liberating. Many of my members would love a kindly ear with which to share their thoughts and ideas, and their concerns. Katia is doing a great job with this, and many of her coaching clients end up having regular sessions with her every week or two. If this is something that interests you please follow this link and I will set it up for you.

I’m thrilled to share a lovely image with you from Millie, a new crossdresser. She’s on Twitter and can be found here: https://twitter.com/Millie78038961

I know she’d be delighted if you follow her as she’s putting up some images as she progresses, and it’s already looking like a great journey.

Finally, I have been so happy to see Mollie Blake’s writing on the site recently. Her latest piece about waxing is masterful. You can find it here: https://fionadobson.com/mollie-blake/the-dating-game-part-2-by-mollie-blake/

I must say, the site has grown. We now have new content every day or so, and coming back to the website a few times a week is sure to give you new and exciting things to do and think about each time.

Have a delightful week.

😊

Fiona