One of our Premium members writes…

I received a lovely email today from one of our Premium Members, Helena. She had just completed the second of the Premium tasks, and was kind enough to provide the following report back. I thought I’d post it as she writes so very well, and also as an indication of how some of these tasks can help my gurls develop.  Helena writes:

Hi Fiona,

I completed task #2!

I went to Walmart to buy 3 pair of panties and fishnet pantyhose.

When I arrived I started roaming near the lingerie section, I was very nervous so I had to make sure there weren’t many girls nearby, was trying to avoid any looks or something. But when I started browsing, hunting for the simple black ones, I realized you are totally right!

They are just minding their own business when shopping and didn’t even look at me, even the attendant woman was like, I just wanna get out of here, yawning even. So that relaxed me immediately, I just browsed everything in there, and picked 3 pairs, one simple and black, some lacy red ones, and a pinkish thong with black highlights.

I am a tall person so I went for XL and they fit nicely, maybe a bit snug, but I like how they look, then I continued over to the nylons and stockings section and had more trouble with sizing than anything else,

I stayed there some time wondering and the attendant came along and asked me if I needed help, as natural as I could I just told her I was having trouble with the length of the nylons and she suggested a pair of fishnet pantyhose, because even if I didn’t know my length they were flexible in that regard, more so than stockings which may be too short and unfixable, pantyhose would be more suitable, and fishnets do provide more stretch and resistance she said, so I just went with her suggestion and thanked her for it 😀

At home I tried them all on immediately and found them to be good choices.  Thank you so much!

It was a good start, I feel much more confident now.

Helena”

Be sure to join my Premium Program.  I know you’ll love it.

Leotards – a great way to keep fit and look great doing so.

Whether you like to get into a dance class, or just like to do a little yoga at home, you can look wonderful at the bar or on the mat by slipping into something figure hugging and fun.

Now if you read my weekly emails you’ll realise the unfortunate story behind the leotards and the whole thing with Amanda – but if not, you may like to browse through these anyway. You can sign up for the free program here.

For those who want to wear their leotard in a slightly different way, it’s going to look great as a top, over jeans or just a light skirt. As a simple androgenous look there are many leotards that work perfectly, and as a feminine icon, it is of course, spectacular. FD.

I need some new eyeshadow for my third eye!

Auntie Kittie’s niece Megan tells me her Auntie says she looks good in a kilt. What do you think?

“Push your bum back a bit,” said Sebastian, maneuvering behind me.

“Oh, Sebastian,” I said, perspiration dripping from my brow.

“That’s better,” he said pressing his hand into the small of my back.

As you probably know, Sebastian is my personal trainer. We often do yoga sessions together. Some of these yoga positions are really quite challenging. As we move into the cooler weather I do find I like to lift up the intensity of my exercise regime. And Sebastian is a treasure, I really do enjoy getting it up with him. My yoga is very important to me.

I also find that with the cooler weather I like to dress in suitably warmer clothes, and the opportunity to explore new styles is a source of great joy. I enjoy wearing a kilt, and know there are many other members, some who cannot overtly dress in femme clothing but can wear a kilt from time to time.  A kilt is a very good way to gradually introduce more androgynous clothing into your repertoire.

This week, as an exercise perhaps you can check out a few ideas for kilts online – here’s a start.

I also loved the tights below.  They have a nice tartan imprint. I do have some distant Scottish heritage and used to spend every Christmas on the Isle Of Skye. I even got lost in Dunvegan Castle once as a child. But one thing I do enjoy is watching the Highland Games events. I have always thought Bernard would be rather good at tossing the caber. I understand he comes from Essex, in England, which some of my English friends have told me is full of tossers.

Bernard tells me that it sometimes gets so cold in the north of Canada that there’s so many icicles hanging from his sporran that you’d think he brought along his own wind chimes. What a sight that must be.

Here in Canada we believe in an inclusive approach to life. This is exemplified by my good friend Justin, who – when he’s not busy running the country – is very happy to swing by and take a walk on the beach nearby. And I have to say, he doesn’t have bad legs. He’s asked me once or twice if I can spare Sebastian for a yoga class, but so far we’ve been a bit too busy and our schedules haven’t been quite aligned. Perhaps he’ll join us for a class here in Huckleberry Close as things slow down around Christmas. At least, he promised he would. We’ll see.

When not running the country Justin enjoys a little yoga, and wants to borrow Sebastian, my personal trainer.

As we approach Halloween I have a ghostly story coming out late this month which I think you might enjoy. You may want to keep an eye open for The Living Doll on http://FionaDobson.com . There’s also The Foreshore Light and The Apartment, for those of you who like the ghostly theme of Halloween, both of which are already available. If you’d like to hear me reading The Foreshore Light you can do so here. Be sure to check them out when you have a moment. I think I’ve given you enough there to keep you up at night. It’s not often that you find ghostly stories suitable for crossdressers, but I do try to present a broad cross section of content for my lovely members. As ever, Clothes Maketh The Man, now with episode 50 out, is doing wonderfully. I do hope you’re enjoying it.

If you’re not already a member be sure to check out the membership options here – http://FionaDobson.com/my-programs

Have a lovely week,

😊

Fiona

I guess he didn’t know what sort of gurl I am.

I cut across the square and walked into the bar after work. I usually only come here at lunchtimes, the fish always being fresh and the salad light. I can come in here, have a quick lunch and be back at my desk within an hour easily.

In the evenings there’s a lot of people in from out of town, there being a large hotel next door. And there’s a fair crop of locals too. It’s quite busy after six. It’s surprising how crowded this lonely city can be when all the commuters go home.

I don’t think I’d seen this one before. Maybe I had but it didn’t matter anyway. It’s not like I go out looking for romance. But he looked interesting. He told me a name, and I just let him freestyle his way into my evening.

He bought me a few drinks, and started to get a little touchy feely. Well, it was ok. The bar was closing soon anyway.

I decided I’d walk home with him, his place wasn’t far from mine, and we’d part and he’d never know how different I am.

But that’s not quite how it went down. Sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it just gets more interesting.

We decided stopping at my place for a nightcap might be ok.  Why not? He leaned close as I fumbled for my keys, his breath heavy against my cheek. By the time I found my keys he was running his hands inside my jacket searching for my breasts

Continue reading “I guess he didn’t know what sort of gurl I am.”

A jailbird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

“There is no way,” I said to Amanda, my wife’s awful friend.

“Oh, please,” she begged. “Just pretend.  I mean, really, you can pull it off.”

“And I’m not ‘pulling him off’, either!” I protested.

“Look,” she insisted, “all I’m asking is that you hang out with us. I promised!”

“You set him up on a date with some… some… some floozy, and she’s now dropped out. And you’re asking me to step in. And let’s face it, your brother isn’t exactly a catch. This is going to be the first time he’s visited you since he was in jail. That’s not what I think of as a good catch. Besides, I’m married,” I stammered. “You’re a friend of my wife’s. How can you even suggest this!”

Continue reading “A jailbird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”

I never knew it would get so big!

“I would never have believed it would get this big!” I said to Sylvester.

“Look at this huge bulge!” he replied, his eyes wide.

“I had no idea it would be this big when I started working on it,” I said, still surprised.

We were examining in detail the growth figures for Clothes Maketh The Man, the serial which started this very website. The graph showed a massive explosion – almost a volcanic emission – the huge growth spurt we got in 2016 when Clothes Maketh The Man first appeared.

Since then over 75,000 members have enjoyed the series. And of course, a lot more has happened besides.  We’ve done everything from helping Mildred from Colorado Spring understand that when it says ‘Push up bottom’ on the deodorant stick she’s been using for years it means depress the base of the packaging – it’s an easy mistake to make -, to voting Ashley Baron our crossdresser of the year. We’ve not had that competition for the last couple of years, so I guess Ashley is still our reigning Queen. Don’t forget we also have some great music in The Fiona Dobson Playlist that’s always sure to give you a lift.

Today I have posted Clothes Maketh The Man part 50. If you’ve not been reading this great series you can do so here.  And don’t forget, your memberships keep this iconic series running, so if you’re not already a member be sure to join one of my programs here.

Just a reminder, if you are enjoying some of the emails you can click on the hotlinks within the email to drill deeper (phrasing) and penetrate the stories in more detail. And we all like deep penetration. You can of course also find a wealth of my content on Pinterest. https://www.pinterest.ca/fionadobson22

Some of you know that I love to hang out on the site some days and use our chat functionality to chat with members. If you see a chat window come up when visiting http://FionaDobson.com you’ll know it’s me on the other end. Feel free to join me there. I usually go on in the mornings for a little (Pacific time) and the evenings.

Now, I must get back to looking after life in Huckleberry Close. Some of you will know I am very much a caring soul. I will not use the word ‘healer’, but I do feel I have a special power. Anyway, Amanda my wife’s awful friend, has been having trouble with her pussy. I’ve said I will go over and lay my hands on it to transfer positive energy from Hannibal, my dachshund. I am good with animals. Between you and I, it’s probably diet. I don’t know what she’s been feeding that thing!

Have a lovely weekend,

😊

Fiona

PS – my musical selection this week is for all my closeted members.

Crossdressing, divorce and death.

Crossdressing, divorce and death.

I was remarking to Bernard, my photographer, recently that there seems to be a curious link between crossdressing, divorce and death. We were returning from a photoshoot for a client with a well known fashion business, having photographed the new Spring Collection in anticipation of next years marketing.

“I’ve never been divorced,” said Bernard. “Marriage is one institution I have not had the pleasure of enjoying.”

I glanced at him as we moved slowly through the city traffic. I tried to see if he was being sarcastic.

“Well, the term ‘enjoyed’ is not the first that springs to mind,” I said.

“Is your wife back from her trip yet? Where was it, again?”

“Kalamazoo. Or Katmandu. One of those places.” I replied a little testily. “There really are a remarkable number of my members who seem to return to their love of crossdressing following divorce.  I wonder why that is,” I said.

“Well,” said Bernard, “I suppose following divorce in middle age one is forced to re-evaluate things. You know, be a little introspective.”

Continue reading “Crossdressing, divorce and death.”

Playtime With Fiona – Get out your razor and slip into something silky!

You’ll love the feeling of sexy excitement that a close shave gives you!

You won’t believe how fast a homeless person can run!

You won’t believe what happened to me on the way home the other night. Now I can’t even go to the local Whole Foods store!   I’ve just got back from a workshop for advertising executives, and I arrived home to find I’d run out of milk.

Julie, has been looking after Hannibal, my dachshund, and I knew he wanted a walk with me, so I took him along with me to the store. It was pretty late, and some of the staff were taking in the flower display from the street, where they always look so lovely.

As I was looking at them, and thinking how fresh they were, and how they’d freshen up my apartment, I thought I might buy some.  I turned my head at that moment to see Hannibal, my dachshund, peeing on the homeless guy who sometimes sits there.

He looked back, mortified, his legs wet, and a pool of pee spreading over his cardboard sign, which said – ‘I’ll accept anything.’

It’s absurd, but I couldn’t help thinking that was a rather open offer. I said I was sorry, reaching in my purse,  and found all I had was plastic, and a few peso coins. He wouldn’t take the plastic, and the pesos were no good to him.

I ended up making my apologies and leaving, hurrying inside the store. I felt awkward, though probably a little better than he did.  I must say it was a silly and embarrassing incident, but there it should have rested.

However, fate was not going to be so kind. The following day I had some friends arrive to stay.  They are Ukrainian and the wife, bless her, decided I should have borscht for my lunch and cooked some up.

This was clearly well intentioned, but not my favorite form of soup.  I’m more of a clam chowder person.

Either way, I dutifully took the borscht she’d made with me to the agency, when I left for work. It turned out we had a business lunch that day, and I didn’t get to eat her soup, which I am sure would have been delightful. Instead it remained in my bag, until I noticed it there on my way home. Thinking I would be a little devious, I decided to toss it out of the car window, and say to my guests how wonderful the soup was, and how grateful I was that she made it.

So, there in the very slow moving traffic I lowered my car window, and was about to pour it into the street, when the traffic came to a complete halt, and I found myself next to a particularly angry looking biker. I gave him a smile, but bikers and crossdressers don’t always mix well.

He looked back with disdain. I though I’d better not de-borscht myself in front of him. I gave him a cheeky smile and a week, and he scowled back at me. I lowered the passenger side window and tossed the borscht from it’s tupperware container.

That was when I heard a shout.  It seemed to come from beside the car. I leaned over to the passenger side of the car and looked out on the ground, and there at the foot of a parking meter was the homeless guy, covered in borscht.

He’d moved a few blocks down the street, but it was definitely him.  He turned his borscht covered head in my direction and then recognized me, and said ‘You!”. As the traffic moved on he scrambled to his feet, and started chasing after me in the slow-moving traffic. He was bundled up, but hurried along very quickly after me.  It was just a little frightening.

I raised the window, but it was quite surprising how quickly this poor fellow could move, sprinting beside the car and banging on the window.  All the while he was shouting and making a terrible fuss. Only when I caught the lights just right could I accelerate away fast enough to leave the fellow, with his flapping arms and wailing.  I felt terrible for him, of course, but what could I do?

I pressed my patent leather clad high heeled right foot down and left the poor chap in the rear view mirror. In a face-off between the V8 in my Buick and a homeless person, the Buick generally wins.

I puzzled over his turn of speed for a while till I got home. He really was very quick for a homeless guy.  Now, those of you who know me know that I am a kindly soul. Of course, I have my peccadillos, but I am generally a simple type. I feel no malice or unkindness to homeless people.

I was thinking this as I walked round my vehicle checking that it hadn’t been damaged by his banging on the window. That was when I noticed the glove caught on the door handle.

No wonder he’d been shouting so loudly as I accelerated away.

Oh, well. What can you do? I hope you’ve enjoyed this little story from the world of FionaDobson. Http://fionadobson.com

Don’t forget, I’ve got many free videos for you on Youtube.
I had a lovely email from Gunnar, from Iceland, yesterday. He had listened to one of my Youtube videos about identity and the importance of having a gurl name.

“I love your youtube videos. In one about female identity you say that its important to have a girl name for my girly side. I have always had problems coming up with a name that sticks. I ask you thus for help to find a girl name for me. “

Asking a girlfriend or emailing me for a suggestion, and telling me a little about yourself, is a good idea if you’re stuggling with this.  Identity is a very importaant part of crossdressing.  For many people the idea of dressing is a means to step into an alternative identity. A huge part of that is thinking what name reflects that identity.  Is she a gurly girl, a tomboy, or perhaps a very professional individual.

One great way to select a name is to type into Google, favorite baby names of (insert your year of birth). The result will list the top few male and female names.  Choose one of the top five. In many instances this will feel just right.

A name like ‘Candy’ may not suit that identity if it’s a person that is most at home in a Channel suit. Equally, ‘Olive’ or ‘Maud’ doesn’t much sound like a slutty vamp. Half the fun of dressing is creating the backstory of this character. If you want a fun exercise sit down one night and write her Resume, as though she were applying for a job.  As you develop the character you’ll find your ideas of who she really is clarify. There’s a reason why we say ‘Accept yourself as you are – create yourself as you wish.”

As you explore the idea of alternative identity, you may want to think about the various aspects of who ‘she’ really is. Is she playful, or studious? Does she take life seriously, or live on the wild side? Eventually you’ll realise that crossdressing permeates every aspect of who you really are.

🙂

Fiona

Thinking of dating a crossdresser?

When I first felt that thrill of pulling on panties and not being afraid, it was amazing.  I felt like I wanted to find a partner and see what wonderful things I could experiment with.

What would they do with me, and how would they make love to me? You have no idea the rush of finding that first lover who was willing to take the uninitiated young thing I was!

Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I wanted just ‘anyone’.  No, I wanted a play partner that I could rely on to experiment and help me find out what exciting new things this body could do. I wanted someone that would treat me with respect, but also experiment with new things.

I had never thought for an instant that a man would find me attractive, prior to really dressing properly. It was only as I began to accept myself, that I realised I could enjoy my body – instead of feeling inadequate and embarrassed by it.

Some of you are reading the story of McKlusky, and how he bullied me. As I began to experiment I soon became aware that far from being embarrassed and awkward about my body, I could use it to good effect and men not only wanted me, they prized my physical attributes far above females or males.

I found I literally had the best of both worlds. That was why I started to enjoy my new crossdressing sexuality. I realised I was in demand. And men would do virtually anything for me.

Soon I found I had admirers who wanted to take me away on their yacht, take me to wonderful holiday destinations and would do almost anything to be my lover. In fact, they’d take me anywhere, except to meet their mother!

Now, I know you understand the appeal of a great crossdresser. It’s why you are here. And yes, a crossdresser certainly does love the attention. Any CD that fantasises, does so wondering what you might do with them – what height you might take them to. Can you imagine how exciting that is?

Each new lover is a new chance to discover new sides to their evolving personality. Surely you’d love to be part of that exploration!

In Fiona’s Little Black Book there are over a thousand CDs from all over the world just waiting to chat, email and meet new friends, just as I did. They want to meet friends of their own age, younger and older. All of them are looking for connections. Whether you’d just like to email, Skype or meet, there’s someone there for you, << Test First Name >>.

If you’d like to join Fiona’s Little Black Book as an Admirer you too could find a CD to explore new adventures with. Are you ready for that?

Come on. Join in today. Just follow this link to subscribe to The Admirers Club, and start connecting with members of Fiona’s Little Black Book today.

Julie

Max is teabagging Sebastian in my basement!

I arrived home on Saturday morning to a house full of guests. Max, my next door neighbours 20 year old son, had let himself in as he often does these days, Sebastian had arrived early for my yoga session, and as I walked into the kitchen, there was Sylvester clutching a twelve incher in his hand.

“That looks very meaty,” I said as Sylvester stood there looking proud.

“You know how much I love a good sub,” replied Sylvester. “Salami, tomato, olives… this is twelve inches of perfection.

If I had a quarter for every time I’d heard that, I thought quietly to myself. Actually, I’d only have a dollar twenty five, but all the same…

I slipped into a light skirt and a tee shirt, to be ready for yoga, and then asked Sylvester if he’d like to join Sebastian and I on the yoga mats. I should say that it’s rather like watching a fridge try to do a downward dog, when Sylvester does yoga. The will is there, though.

“Where on earth are Max and Sebastian,” I asked Sylvester wondering if perhaps Max would be joining us on the yoha mats.

“Max is teabagging in the basement,” said Sylvester.

“Really,” I said a little surprised.

“Yes. I had no idea Max knew so much about tea. He’s showing Sebastian how to mix a few different tea types and make a few tea bags. He has some black tea, oil of bergamot, vanilla and all sorts of things.”

“Oh,” I said, somewhat relieved. “How creative. We should see if they want to do yoga with us.”

However, that’s not the main reason I am writing to you. I’m sure that you have experienced, the same as many of us, feelings of embarrassment following dressing. Well, you’ll be pleased to know you don’t need to. In the video below I have prepared a short hypnosis for you that will help relieve those feelings. Have a listen and see how you get along.

Have a great week, and remember – “Accept yourself as you are, and create yourself as you wish.”

🙂

Fiona

 
 

If you’re having trouble with Facebook, Whatsapp And Instagram, it’s probably Auntie Kittie’s fault.

This morning Auntie Kittie decided she’d change her Facebook settings. Predictably, Facebook then crashed causing an outage affecting many millions of customers. Don’t worry. We’re working with Auntie Kittie to resolve the issue.

Auntie is on a three way call with my friend Mark at Facebook, Max my neighbour’s son who looks after our tech department ( such as it is).

As you are doubtless aware Auntie Kittie is not very technically minded. These things are to be expected.

Don’t worry. Max is working to restore the system as quickly as he can.

In the meantime enjoy more Auntie Kittie HERE.

Can you help fill my holes?

Watching the sun slowly rise over my rose bushes as I sipped my jasmine tea this morning I could almost have been in some tropical paradise. Ali, my gardener, his head bowed toward the east was in my garden on his knees, the dawn reflected by his white robe.

I glanced at the morning news, and swiftly found it depressing. Someone had been arrested for spying on a tech company and there were reports of any number of conspiracies. I really do get tired of these intrigues. I turned off the news and listened to some morning music instead. This really is the nicest part of the day, and I wasn’t going to have it ruined by scandals which I could do nothing about.

I do love my garden, but as I watched the light spread across the verdant greens and browns of fall foliage I noticed a disruption in the tranquility of the universe. My lawn, so lovingly maintained, was pock marked with the evidence of some burrowing creatures. The velvet green of my well manicured grass had evidently attracted an infestation. It was then that I realised that Ali was not praying but peering inquisitively into one of the invaders burrows.

He rose to his feet and then walked purposefully to my kitchen, where I sat enjoying my breakfast of croissants and English marmalade, dressed in a long pale green dressing gown, and creamy silk night dress, with a pink tie about the waist. I do so love the way the silk feels on my skin. It makes me shudder that once I constrained myself with horribly male cotton pyjamas with an image of spider man on blazened on the back. Still, I was eleven at the time.

“Good morning, Ali,” I said as he knocked on the kitchen door and then opened it. “Would you like some jasmine tea, it’s freshly brewed.”

Ali came in and I poured him some of the tea, and he looked at me earnestly.

“We have to act swiftly, madam,” said Ali.

“Well, I’m sure we do,” I said, wondering what on earth he was talking about.

“They’re taking over. Before long we’ll be over run,” he continued.

“Ali,” I said, still confused. “Have you been getting your news from Facebook again?”

“No madam,” he replied. “It’s the moles.”

“I heard something about it on the news,” I said.

“Really?” said Ali. “It must be worse than I thought,” he said, his gaze drawn to the garden. He then added, as an afterthought, “We need to stuff their holes.”

There was an awkward silence and then I said, “That seems a little extreme.”

Ali is a Syrian refugee and came to his new life in Canada a few years ago. Having walked halfway across Europe he and his lovely wife and two girls finally found a safe haven that welcomed them, here in Canada. I know he must have been through any number of traumas during his flight as the country fell into civil war. Still, the inhumane treatment of spies seemed a little harsh. It was then I noticed Ali looking at me rather quizzically.

“Oh, you mean the ‘moles’. In the garden…” I said, realising my mistake.

“Yes, madam. They’re getting in from Marjorie’s, next door.”

“Wine bottles,” he said as if that were all the explanation needed.

Sometimes I think Ali is just saying random words. I really should talk to his English teacher sometime.

“We push them in their holes,” he added.

“Oh, yes.” I said quite suddenly. “I think I saw a video of that once.”

“Yes, we block their holes with wine bottles, and they’ll soon leave,” said Ali.

“Then I suppose we’d better talk to Auntie Kittie.”

https://fionadobson.com/english-dating-site-in-italy/ always has empty wine bottles about the place.  I get the distinct impression they don’t stay full for very long with her. But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you this morning. I thought I’d make a point of dropping you a line and telling you that Auntie’s Kittie’s diary is as popular as ever and this weekend anyone who signs up for it (just $1 a month) will get free entry into our Whatsapp Group (usually $10 a month). I wouldn’t want you to miss out.

Have a lovely week, and let me know how you are doing.

😊

Fiona