Shove it in my trunk!

“Shove that shaft in my trunk,” I said to Sylvester, who’d asked me to give him a ride home after work.

He’s a wonderful mechanic, always with a tool in his hand. But I digress. I felt I would write and tell you about the wonderful things we’ve got planned for Mexico.

So many of my members struggle to find a way to dress discretely and safely. I am thrilled to be offering the escape to Mexico we have planned for January.

I hear so many stories of members unable to dress and relax. Many of my members are not comfortable going out of the house dressed. Others fear they may not pass as well as they’d like.  Now, imagine a situation where you could dress. You could ask someone for some help and advice. You could even learn about make up, and enjoy a night out without the worry of someone bumping into you. That sounds like a pretty good day.

Well, our team at the Fiona Dobson Crossdressing Conference can help you do exactly that – but for four days and in the spectacular Miramar Hotel in Puerto Vallarta. Join us on this escape and take that giant step that every crossdresser wants. This trip will help you feel confident crossdressing. In unpressured and non judgemental surroundings enjoy the feeling of wearing what you wish, and doing what you want.

You’ll be with a small group of people, likely just like you, in a private setting.  If you’ve ever had to hide your dressing, this retreat will be relaxing and rejuvenating. Get more information HERE.

By the way, if you’ve never read it, you may enjoy my ongoing series Clothes Maketh The Man. It’s in it’s 37th episode at present.

Have a great week.


The Stories Your Mother Never Told You. Part 6.

In a tattered journal given to me by one of my clients, I came across the following account which you may find of special interest. It was clearly written describing a time when my visitor was little more than an infant. You will see that we’ve named him Billy junior, to help keep things straight. I would guess that the diary entries are from the late 1950’s, judging by the content and condition of the journal.

July 26th.

I drove across town this evening to Vince Miller’s place. Funny being there after all these years. I remember his 6th birthday party. The swing on the lawn. But tonight was something different. He asked me to do a little favor a few weeks ago. I’ll tell you about it.

Continue reading “The Stories Your Mother Never Told You. Part 6.”

Broom Broom Bitches!

What a surprise Lenni and Jules had when they fell over these strapping curling team members earlier today. As you likely know our Vancouver members are often getting into trouble in one form or another.

“I just came down here hoping to score,” said Lenni, a keen athlete, in her own way. “I love to help out the team. Keeping score is just one small way I can provide a supportive hand.”

Jules spotted the team name and couldn’t resist. The team plays at The Hillcrest Centre, an Olympic venue in Vancouver.

“I was impressed by their strength, and the length of the shaft,” said Jules, admiring one of the brooms.

We wish the Broom Broom Bitches a great season curling and look forward to enjoying more of the Whister Brewing Company’s Chestnut Ale.


How crossdressing can change the world.

I was sitting in my kitchen this morning, a skillet sizzling on the hob spilling delightful aromas out into the garden, when I heard the sound of Sylvester’s chopper drawing into my driveway. Sensing the presence of sausage he often unaccountably appears. Now, the same could be said of some of my gurlfriends, but that really is another story.

Arriving just as I was about to pour the coffee, Sylvester showed up with his niece, a glorious young creature of thirteen.

“Fiona, this is Anastasia,” he said as he entered. “She’s heard so much about you, she said she’d like to join

Continue reading “How crossdressing can change the world.”

Clothes Maketh The Man – Part 37

I pulled into the evening gridlock, the smell of Devina still in my head.  The way she’d towered above me, so controlled, her big eyes inspecting me had left me feeling both more unsettled about her motives and yet compelled by the undeniable feelings growing within me.

I couldn’t help but feel desire for Devina. The woman who was the architect of my own destruction and this unchained slavery which she had so skillfully imposed upon me.  I knew that, despite her releasing me from the abominable chastity device, after I had done as she had told me, I would return and lock myself up as she had instructed.

I would drive to Mandy, my girlfriend. There I would, as Devina had instructed me, ‘do my duty’ by Mandy and then I would return. Like a slave returning to their master. And I would be grateful.

Now, for those of you who have experienced neither chastity nor the powerful draw of a dominant partner this may all seem rather strange. However, there’s no doubt there is a peculiar motivation that forces us to do things that seem counter intuitive to the uninitiated. It has to be said though, the wife who returns to the husband that abuses her, the person that day after day goes to a job they despise, these are equally baffling, though psychologists will offer plausible explanations. Yet here I found myself, consciously considering that I was so firmly bound by these chains of desire that I had absolutely no choice but to do as Devina instructed.  Could this be something like a case of Stockholm syndrome? 

The image of Devina, tall and strong toying with me came back to my mind. It was intoxicating. Her laugh, her power and her control. I find it confusing and yet compelling. I wanted to obey.

The traffic was static.  My instructions were clear. Go and satisfy Mandy. How Devina knew this what was needed I did not know, nor did I much care. My instructions were clear.  I tapped out a text message in the frozen traffic and told Mandy I would be there as soon as traffic allowed. I guessed this would come as a surprise to her, but a reply came moments later.

Continue reading “Clothes Maketh The Man – Part 37”