The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 10.

Part 10.

Sitting in the garden, just by where Ali had completed a rather unusual example of topiary depicting Cleopatra’s Needle and two of the Elgin Marbles, not to scale, I poured my wife a glass of wine.

“Darling,” I said. “have you ever had a boyfriend who liked to crossdress?”

“Well, I really don’t know,” she replied nonchalantly. “What they get up to in their spare time is a mystery to me.”

“Yes, but surely,” I persisted, “there must have been one who showed interest. I mean, so many men talk about it these days. I can only think there must be some women who find it, I don’t know, exciting?”

“Well, I’ve always thought men look rather odd in dresses. Not to mention heels.”

“I’m sure,” I replied.

“On the other hand,” she went on, her voice dropping a little, “it does give me a feeling of power.” At that point she paused and corrected herself. “That’s to say I’m sure it would. If someone were to, you know.”

I looked at her sideways.

“Are you quite sure you’ve never…”

“Well, there was this one young man in college. A very unusual chap, but certainly very liberated. Exciting even,” she murmured.

I could see she was leaving a great deal unsaid, her mind wandering through what seemed to be some happy memories.  I decided it might be best to let it hang for a moment.

“I think it wonderful how much energy women put into their look, and it’s always seemed a little unfair. A man shows up to a date with a clean shirt and he’s considered well dressed. A woman spends two hours putting on corset and suspender belt and god knows what, and she’s not even remotely satisfied how she looks.”

“And ten minutes after you’ve left the restaurant they’re trying to get the damned stuff off! You have no idea.”

I kept my desire to say ‘I know exactly what you mean’ in check.

“Well, I must say I can’t help thinking that now and then a man should have to try doing that. Just to remind themselves how much trouble you girls go to.”

I topped up my wife’s wine.

“I think you may have something there. I think it would be a great idea to help men understand.”

I sipped my wine quietly.

“Well,” I murmured. “If you really insist. I suppose I could try.”

You won’t believe what Sebastian is covered in!

You won’t believe what Sebastian is covered in!

Hi,

Sebastian, my personal trainer, was standing in my kitchen, looking distraught. It’s not a good look for a slim man in spandex. He’d cycled over to my place for a coffee.

“The stuff’s everywhere,” he moaned. “I can’t move in my apartment, there’s so much Jiz everywhere!”

“I’m sorry?” I said, adjusting the peach colored silk robe I was wearing. I had just waxed my legs and chest and the soft silk felt magnificent on my skin.

“It’s all over the place!” He went on.

“Sebastian,” I said, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“It’s the week of the Junior and Intermediate Zumba challenge. Everyone down at the gym enters.”

“Is that a ‘thing’?” I asked.

“I get to do the Jiz thing every year, and every year it’s a nightmare. I just get overwhelmed. And this year, honestly, I think I’ve taken as much as I can take. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew and I’m practically choking on it!”

“I believe the expression is ‘gagging’.” I added, helpfully.

“All the other personal trainers down at the gym leave it to me, and every year I just get sucked in!”

“I wonder why,” I said rhetorically.

“My whole place is covered in the stuff to arrange it, costumes, posters. I even had to design them myself.” Sebastian reached into his back pack and brought out a folded-up poster.

“Oh, Let me see it,” I said trying to sound enthusiastic.

“Yes, of course.  Your friend Amanda helped me with it.”

“Amanda is my wife’s friend,” I pointed out. Because she edits a trade publication, Pig And Pig Farmer, Amanda considers herself something of a media mogul. I think you’ll agree that’s a bit of a stretch.

Sebastian unfolded the poster. An image of two young dancers, breathlessly whirling across the floor filled the page, with the headline, “It’s Jiz Time! You’ll be glad you came.”

Sebastian looked at it thoughtfully. “They wouldn’t let me put it up at Starbucks. They got quite snotty about it.”

“I wonder why,” I said.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today.  It’s going to be spring soon, so it’s time to start getting ready with some new looks for Spring. I thought I’d make a couple of suggestions, to help you along.

Spring is a time to emphasise the soft pastels, using both cosmetics and clothes that lift and brighten their surroundings. This is a great time, if you don’t dress outside of the house, to bring some more feminine colors into your selection of clothes that you’d wear day to day.

If you wear glasses, think about getting a pair that are softer and more blended to your skin. Be prepared to experiment with your daily look, softening it with colors that convey gentle forms. Hard black frames may be better replaced with a softer color, for example.

As you color your life more gently, you may be surprised to find yourself feeling more gentle. You’re going to love that. You may well find that wearing pastels and muted colors contributes to a more gentle mood, and as you look the way you know you should, you start to feel the way you should, too.

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

Have a great week,

🙂

Fiona

The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 9.

Part 9.

I sat in my office just yesterday going through the messages I receive from members. There was yet another one asking how a member should talk to their wife about dressing. As I worked through the message it became evident that my member had decided one day to tell his wife all about it.

“I couldn’t hide it any longer,” they wrote. “So I told her about the dressing and that I’d been dating several men. It devastated her.”

I shook my head in sadness. Of course it broke the poor woman’s heart.

I wrote back to my member saying that whilst what is done is done, he might want to limit just how much truth he delivers in one sitting.

The conversation did raise a very interesting point though.  To accept a husbands crossdressing is a massive challenge, but to do so and learn that there had been an affair – or multiple affairs – surely that would be too much for any marriage to withstand.

I decided that in the quest to retain marital harmony it might be wiser to limit just how much truth one reveals at a time.  I personally do not feel that crossdressing need be tied directly to dating men. Of course it’s highly exciting, and dressing does make one feel euphoric, but this should probably not be mistaken for a great state to make sexual decisions one is going to regret later. Better to spend the energy gradually persuading a partner to accept it.

I will talk about polyamory in another series, however the kernel of truth does remain; no wife wants to be told you’ve had an affair with either a man or a woman after the fact. Discovering such news can hardly be expected to yield a positive result, nor will it pave the way to it being ok to slip into your wife’s panties.

So, at this point in the journey to help the wife understand a need to crossdress, I think it very wise to consider just how much one is going to reveal when one does.

For the moment, building up to the point at which one does reveal all it’s obviously prudent to limit the amount of truth one is going to impart. Let’s just say, we’re going to give her what she can handle.

So, clad in kilt and ready to share a little more, I decided it was time for my wife and I to have a little chat.

A give away for Sunday only.

Good morning gurls and bois,

I hope you’re having a lovely weekend. I have a special give away to my members today only, and if you subscribe even at the $1 a month level today you’ll be able to take advantage of it.

If you join and use whatsapp and would like to join my Whatsapp Group please message me today (from within my Patreon) and I will give you free access while you remain a member. This is a support group which is usually billed either at $10 a month or to my Unicorn members at $25 a month, however I’d like to add a few new voices. It’s a very special group and has been extremely supportive to members, and I do have a few guidelines.

Here are the basic guidelines for membership:

1. Please try and keep chat civil and fun.

2. Please respect privacy of all members and only reach out with direct messages to others if you’ve already got their permission to direct message one another while in the group chat. (This might look like: “Gina: Jenny is it ok for me to message you directly? – Jenny: Yes, Gina, you can message me directly.” Please only contact others if you have persistent and ongoing consent.

3. Pics are great – but no gratuitously pornographic content as we’re all in work and family environments with our phones.

4. No abusive behaviour.

5. This forum is not an appropriate environment to promote competitive services or crossdressing sites.

So, if you’d like to get in there for free, just message me back today on fdobson@zoho.com.

Now I must get back to my guests in the garden. Rainbow is working on the recipe for her kale based laxative smoothie and Sebastian is reading a retrospective critique of the emerging Italian new wave film director Pallionetti. You can’t imagine how excited I am… yawn.

Have a spectacular weekend.

🙂

Fiona

The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 8.

Part 8.

I’d had it in mind to tell my wife that I was a crossdresser for several months before I actually said the words.  By the time I did I’d shown a more gentle side of myself on numerous occasions and in many ways.

I was already taking her for regular shared nail appointments and had a wardrobe of increasingly androgynous clothing. It can hardly have been a surprise when one day I said I was going to start wearing a kilt to the office now and then. There was a drama series showing at the time that she enjoyed. When a brightly colored kilt arrived from Amazon one day I put it on, and her first words were, “Oh god, you look like that guy in that show.”

“I do?”

“Hey, big boy, where’s your sword?”

I looked a little nonplussed.

“I don’t think I have a …. Oh, I see where you’re going with this.”

I didn’t expect the kilt to have quite that effect. The first day I wore it to the office I got a combination of admiring glances, and one or two interesting comments. By day three it was accepted and normal. Admittedly I wanted to wear heels and panties with it, but that wasn’t on the cards yet.

Before long my dress sense was being complimented, and my kilt was both ‘so very masculine’ and also considered daring. I loved it. As for my wife, she was in highland heaven every time I wandered in with it on.

It suppose it had been three months since I’d made the decision to start adopting these changes, before I eventually spoke a word to my wife about it. I’d been wearing the kilt every now and then for at least a month before I broached the subject. I decided that when I did so it would have to be somewhat obliquely. I like being married. I have children. I’ve been divorced before and it’s no fun.

This would have to be done carefully.

What’s in a ‘femme’ name.

When chatting online I often ask my CD members and friends what their femme name is.  Most of us have one and as we develop this side of our personality we learn to treasure it. After all it is something we have given ourselves.

One of the reasons it’s important is that it gives us something on which to hang all the complexities of the identity we’ve chosen. It gives ‘her’ personality. When we are first called our femme name it gives us a thrill, and each subsequent time it’s used it subtly nails home this part of ourself. It’s a continual reinforcement of who we are.

Each email, each time a friend online and each time someone in our daily lives use this name we are further confirmed as who we really are. This is true whether you are just dressing now and then in private or out and working toward transition. In either case it’s an important part of us. For this reason I encourage all my members to select and use a positive name and give themselves to it.

I’ve even got a great hypnosis file to help reinforce the name.  You can find it here – – https://fionadobson.com/your-feminine-identity-self-hypnosis/  –  I suggest you use this self hypnosis file even if you’ve been using your name for years. It will help you adopt the name as part of yourself.

For those who have yet to choose a name, here’s a good way to do so. Think back to when you were in high school. Likely there was a girl there who you admired. There were some aspects of her character you liked, and you’d like to have today. Perhaps it was her winning smile, or the way she moved. Maybe it was her feisty attitude, or perhaps her depth and thoughtfulness. By choosing her name you are doing a few things.  One is to honor the memory of this person, even if you’ve never seen her since and never will. You’re also affirming subconsciously your admiration of the characteristics that she exhibited. By using her name you’ll find that you are quietly reminded of how good you can be. Your name will silently influence you to be a better person. A person you can admire.

While some people like a very Sissie name, like Trixie or Candie, these names communicate a rather different message. Yes, you can call them ‘stripper’ names. Well, chances are that if you’re using a name like that those are messages you are trying to communicate. There’s nothing remotely wrong with that, as long as that’s the image you wish to present to the world. Personally I like to dress femme everyday, so whether I am in a client meeting at work or going to the sports centre I want my name to fit.

If I were introduced to a new client at a meeting as ‘Trixie’ they might think the entertainment had arrived. So, your name says a lot to the world in general and also to yourself. If you’re at a total loss to find the right name then here’s a little trick. Take your year of birth, and then put it into a google search preceded by ‘popular girls names’. It’s likely that in the first four or five names there will be a name that feels right. I’ve helped many members with his and it usually works. Apart from anything else, if you’re 45 and stumble on a name that was never popular among people of your own age it will probably never feel quite right.

The first few times you use the name it will feel a little strange, but before long it will begin to feel right. If you sign up to a few mailing lists ( here’s a good one – http://FionaDobson.com/my-programs) with this name and start getting used to seeing it in your inbox you will soon delight in it. When someone calls you by your new name you will find it a delight. And before long it will feel as natural as… well, as ‘Fiona’ does for me.

Fiona Dobson.

Splashing out on lingerie.

Hi,

I have been treating myself to a few enjoyable gifts to myself lately. Victoria’s Secret, and one or two other places have been benefiting from my self indulgence.

On Wednesday, this week I asked Max, my neighbours twenty-year old son, to come with me to a lingerie store. This was admittedly partly to tease him, and partly to teach him a little lesson.  He’s been hanging around a lot lately, and seems to spend way too much time at my place. When I am doing yoga he seems to get extremely agitated. When I am working up a sweat he seems unable to stop watching at me.

“Max,” I said to him, “sometimes I don’t know what’s got into you. You spend so much time over here! You might as well help me with some shopping.”

I drove down to the lingerie store with him, and explained, “Things have been so hard lately,” as I smoothed down the skirt I was wearing.

“Don’t you ever feel like,” I searched for words, “…splashing out on some new underwear?”

Max seemed quite overcome by the thought. He carried my bags back to my car once I had bought some new items of hosiery.

Once at home, I took out several boxes of my underwear and asked him to help me sort them into colors and fold them nicely. He seemed very happily engaged in this task when there came a knock on the door downstairs. I asked him to go down and see who it could be.

Max took himself off and some minutes later, when he didn’t return I glanced out of the window to see him clutching at his stomach and heaving into a flowerbed in my garden. This wasn’t going to help the petunias. After all his efforts to keep them looking full and flowery, Ali, my gardener was not going to like that at all.

I opened the window of my bedroom and called down, “Max, are you all right?”

In reply he pointed toward the kitchen and called back “Amanda,” And then staggered off toward the gate to his parent’s house.

I groaned inwardly. Amanda, my wife’s obnoxious friend, had obviously slipped through the perimeter defences. I decided to go downstairs and see what the unbearable woman wanted. I slipped into pair of gender neutral yoga pants and descended the stairs.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with that boy,” Amanda blurted out as I entered the kitchen. Apparently she had got away from work editing Pig and Pig Farmer Weekly a little early today.

“What did you do to the poor lamb, Amanda?”

“I just asked him to help me with something. You see, I’m taking some pain medication for my back. Anyway I’m supposed to,” and at this point she lowered her voice, “use these.” She pulled a package from her sac like handbag.

“And what are these,” I asked not wishing to get too close.

“Suppositories,” she relied, and my stomach turned over.

“And you wanted Max to help you with them?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied in a matter of fact voice. “They’re supposed to bring my temperature down. It’s a side effect of the medication, you see.”

“You don’t think that’s a little odd?” I said, my mind reeling as I stared at the pack on my kitchen counter.

“Is that even a thing?” I made a note to Google suppositories and temperature.

“You don’t understand,” she stammered as though suddenly realising she’d made a horrendous mistake.

“Amanda, I really don’t think you can ask young Max to…”

“It’s the packaging. I can’t get it out of the blister pack,” she protested.

“There are some things, Amanda, you just can’t ask people to do!”

“I can’t open the packaging, it’s my fingers. Not with my arthritis!” she protested.

“All the same,” I said doubtfully. “I think you may have scarred Max permanently. He looks pretty traumatised.”

“Oh, my goodness,” she gasped. “You don’t think he thought I wanted him to…” Amanda looked horrified.

“Yes, I do, Amanda. I think you may have left a very damaging and lasting impression on his fragile young mind.”

However, all this is not the main reason I am writing to you this evening. We’ve got some great new content on the website here: http://FionaDobson.com and I’d love to see your comments and questions about it. Go right ahead and make comments on the site, and I’m thrilled to answer them.

Have a great week and remember not to let your temperature get too high.

Fiona

Let’s get ready for a new week!

I often get asked to repost this, so I thought it would be a good way to start the week. I know many of my members are currently working from home. I think we could have found the new corporate dress code.

🙂

Fiona

  • http://FionaDobson.com

The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 7.

Part 7

Get all parts of this series here.

I gradually moved from a very masculine and Alpha style of clothes, to really looking at the feminine clothing I enjoyed and looking for first ways to move more toward the centre of the gender spectrum, and then becoming more overt about the clothes I was choosing.

It started with the colors. Then the cut. A more fitted pair of jeans. A slightly more tailored cut to my shirts, and then the complete exclusion of shirts. I would choose soft lambswool sweaters that could easily be mistaken for women’s clothing. Gradually some of my sweaters were being bought from women’s clothes stores and became more overtly feminine.

Up until this time I’d not mentioned the shifts to my wife.  There was simply no need.

Then one day we had a conversation that moved into how we felt about something or other.

“I don’t really feel very strongly about it, darling,” I said. “I don’t know, I feel a little more sensitive these days. I feel more inclined to accept a softer approach.  What do you think?”

At first she looked at me a little strangely. After all, I was usually the forthright one of us.

“Well, I think you’re probably right.”

In that moment I was aware she’d seen a shift, not in my clothes but in my nature. And there had indeed been one. I was accepting so many things ina less aggressive and Alpha manner. I was allowing the softer sides of myself to emerge. It seems a small thing, but really it’s not.

Gradually I started allowing myself to think differently and be more gentle in my approach to life. It so happened that I replaced my vehicle around this time. Instead of looking for the fast muscle car that perhaps was more expected from a middle aged advertising executive, I opted for a powerful – but understated vehicle. That raised more eyebrows than my gradual shift to less gender binary clothing.  

One day my wife said to me, “I like that you’re being more thoughtful these days. It’s like you’re maturing.”

I smiled and let it go.  It was lovely comment.

Then one day I suggested, “Hey, when was the last time you had a pedicure?”

“I don’t know. Months I guess.”

“Well, why don’t you have one this week. I’d like to go with you.”

“You?”

“Sure,” I said. “There’s a couple of guys in my office do, and I wondered what it might be like. Besides, we have a new client who want’s us to start promoting their chain of nail salons. I might as well know what I’m talking about.”

“Well, I guess,” she said.

Of course, I paid. And made a follow up appointment. And got spectacular nails as well.

Over the coming months we went several times and before long my wife was booking appoints for us both, aware I enjoyed it. If she didn’t travel so much I’ve no doubt we’d go even more often.

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 a few weeks ago while her house was being fumigated.

tumblr_o9a40kUvwr1sq920to1_500Well, 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.

I waited, and 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 under the couch, 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 its 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.

“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.

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

Fiona

The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 6.

Part 6.

Get all parts of this series here.

Ali, my gardener, is a Syrian refugee. He arrived in Canada a few years ago after fleeing Syria with his wife and two little girls.

After being in the country a week, he found himself on a bus travelling to northern Alberta, with over a hundred other Syrians who went up to Fort McMurray to help fight the forest fires that had encroach on the town and were burning it to the ground.  A group of Syrian refugees had seen that the forest fires were devasting the area and volunteered to go and help the country that had offered them a home.

Like all refugees he had a story. In his case he was a professor at Damascus University and taught Botany. It would be hard to find a more educated gardener. He also speaks excellent English when he chooses to, but doesn’t allow this to stand in the way of his random comments about my neighbours garden.

“Marjory’s chlamydia is out early this year,” he might quip. “The vulvodynia is coming along nicely!”

Currently he is on his hands and knees head to the flower bed pointing east. He’s either praying or carrying out the jihad he’s declared on the weeds in the garden.

I like Ali very much. He is wise beyond his years, and I often listen to his advice. He is something of a fundamentalist, in a botanical sense rather than an Islamic one.

“Ali,” I said when he’d finished what he was doing, “how would you go about telling your wife you were into crossdressing?”

Continue reading “The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 6.”

It’s summer – it’s mini skirt weather!

It’s time to get into that mini skirt and show off your curves.  The hypnosis file above will help you make up your mind to get out there and give it a try, all you need to do now is select a great skirt and off you go! Remember to check sizes, and most guys will be a XXL.

Here’s a few great options you can order online.

Don’t ever underestimate the power of a mini skirt. It will change the way you look, and change the way you feel. Be sure of one thing, though. If you’re going to wear a mini, you have to wear it like you mean it!

FD

The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 5.

Part 5.

Get all parts of this series here.

Just as the yin yoga helps my body find that impossible position after a gentle and gradual approach to the objective, so I can see my members finding a solution to how they approach their partners.

Amanda is my wife’s best friend, and a woman of particular personality. She has an association with tweed that few crossdressers will understand. I certainly don’t. I suspect even her underwear is made of the coarse material, she seems to wear it with such frequency.

For all Amanda’s faults, and they are many, she also has some interesting views on things. The fact that she has known my wife for so many years is a point in her favour.  She’s been a good friend to her.  And then there’s her journalism. She is editor of Pig and Pig Farmer, a publication that shot to prominence under her editorial guidance when it came out and endorsed Donald Trump for president in 2016. There’s just too much there to go into, so I shan’t be drawn.

“How would you feel,” I asked her, “if you learned that your partner was interested in dressing as another gender.”

“What,” she said in panic. “Has Marjory told you something?”

Continue reading “The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 5.”

It’s a cruel summer.

What a great time to go out and find the perfect bikini. Here in Vancouver we’re living with some pretty nasty forest fires nearby, and smoke has become an issue. So many climate related issues reminds me of the importance of having exactly the right thing to wear as the earth spirals into global warming and frying us to a crisp.

https://amzn.to/3jU8Iil

I must say that last time I spoke to my good friend Greta Thurnberg I did say that as much as I just loved the idea of reducing our carbon footprint I thought she might put some energy getting a little makeup organised, and some nice footwear. I mean to say, if you’re worried about your carbon footprint it stands to reason that you should at least try to adapt with style.

All that said, it does rather strike me that the leaders of today, and I am thinking of Dickie Branson, Elon and Bezos, all of whom are doing their best to leave the planet, might temper some of their efforts and rather than burning rocket fuel in our precious atmosphere, try improving life down here instead. I can think of many people I’d love to shoot into space, but frankly none of those rockets seem to be very environmentally friendly. I mean, are any of these rockets ‘low emission’ models?

Be sure to stay covered up on days when there’s a high UV index. And check out this lovely swimsuit. Perfect for the well dressed crossdresser to wear for a day at the beach.

Have a lovely week,

Fiona

The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 4.

Part 4.

Get all episodes here.

I am wearing some lovely patterned leggings. I do yoga in them with my personal trainer, Sebastian. He’s a very good sport and I know he likes the way my body moves. He looks at me at times with a sort of lustful hunger, and I have to say I enjoy it.

But before I go too far telling you about Sebastian, let’s go back to Rose – so much older than myself and a woman who knew very decisively what she wanted. She would dress me up, make me up and then use me like I was some sort of toy for her amusement. In every respect I was bought and paid for. The degradation and the humiliation came right along with the discomfort of allowing her to do things to my body that certainly weren’t covered in my biology studies in high school. It was disgustingly wonderful.

Continue reading “The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 4.”