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Fiona Dobson's Crossdressing Blog.
Accept yourself as you are – create yourself as you desire.
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What a strange time it’s been. Today in Vancouver we have the strangest light, as smoke from forest fires up and down the west coast fills the air. Visibility here is really quite terrible.
With Covid, and forest fires one can only think that a plague of frogs might be next. It does leave one wondering why more people don’t take climate change seriously. It’s going to get hotter and drier in the coming years, and if we don’t want this every summer we might as well get used to reducing carbon emissions.
Sylvester, my mechanic friend, swung by earlier, and told me how his week’s been going. Not much better than mine I think.
“It took three of use, heaving and panting and sweating to get my erection up,” said Sylvester, my mechanic, sitting at my kitchen table and sipping tea from my finest bone china. Like many of my best friends he just appears in my kitchen sometimes. Like a big sweaty mechanic genie.
“I’m sure it did,” I said sympathetically. “Now, just tell me again, this ‘erection’, what is that again?”
There was a steady stream of water falling between Ali, my Syrian gardener’s legs.
“Ali,” I said. “Would you mind telling me what you’re doing?”
“Ah, madam. I’m watching Max’s premature ejaculation. He did it for his mother…”
I paused. I’ve learned that’s a good idea with Ali. I’m never quite sure if he’s serious, or just confused.
“His water hose… He’s got it hooked up to Google – that online house thing. It waters the flowers. Well, drowns them actually. It’s coming on prematurely and the water pressure’s too high.”
“I see,” I said. I decided I had better talk to that English teacher of his.
Continue reading “Max’s Premature Ejaculation.”Now, I know what you’re thinking. It’s true though, eight inches is my torso measurement. You know, most of us are completely unaware of what our true measurements are. However, because I simply have to get a new corset I need to measure myself correctly.
You know, it can be wonderful fun to have a friend measure you. I always suggest having someone you enjoy being with come and help. With this in mind I called Sylvester to get him to come over to help me. Unfortunately he was busy. Honestly, he’s a slave to his business. He’s never happier than when he’s got his hands on someone’s exhaust pipe.
Sebastian is out climbing this weekend. He’s going up the Devil’s Danglers he tells me. They are a challenging climb, I understand, but it’s remarkable what Sebastian can get up when he puts his mind to it.
I would have asked Amanda or Marjory to help with the measurements, but this is Marjory’s busy season in the competitive eating circuit. She’s apparently excelling in the sausage category this year, which is surprisingly ironic considering the blossoming of her relationship with Amanda.
Now, as you know, my next door neighbors son Max has at times been a little jealous of Sebastian, my personal trainer, when he comes over and helps me with yoga. Max has been noticed spying on us from his upstairs window while I’m getting my downward dog on in the garden. Well, in the interests of humanity I felt I simply had to ask Max to come over and help me measure myself properly for a new corset. I felt this might help ease his tension a little.
I stood in the kitchen as Max placed the measuring tape first under my breasts, to get an accurate underbust measurement, and then standing behind me he wrapped the tape around at my waist. Now, this is very important. Getting these measurements is essential to get just the right fit in a corset. You may want to take notes.
“Max,” I said as his breath quickened. “I feel size is very important. Be sure to get it just right.”
Next he placed his strong young hands on my hips as I stretched, and measured very carefully. FInally he took my torso measurement. This is most important. This is from the underbust point to the hip crease of when you are sitting in Max’s lap. Poor boy was struggling quite hard at this point. I think all this measuring was wearing poor Max out. He seemed very red faced and was breathing heavily.
“And now the final part, Max,” I said. “We have to decide if my belly is ‘soft and squishy’ or ‘lean’. What do you think?”
I placed his hand on my belly.
“It’s sort of firm,” he said.
“Yes, and I expect you are too!”
And the final thing you need to have a note of when ordering a corset is your height. It’s most important to let your corsetier know. I had found a delightful denim corset from https://glamorouscorset.com/ which was perfect to wear either with a pair of nice jeans, or a nice skirt. It’s so good to find truly versatile clothes. You can see the one I chose here: https://glamorouscorset.com/product-category/material/denim/ I chose this one specifically because I knew I could rely on the product quality coming from Glamorouscorset.com and also the stylish look that I’d be able to make good use of year round.
These are important details, because a corset can do so much for your look. While there’s a range of price points with corset manufacturers, like most things, it’s wise not to go down market. A good corset can serve for years when well looked after and really grows to your needs. Don’t just go for the cheapest supplier you can find – look for quality and sound reputation. I knew I was on solid ground with glamorouscorset.com .
Sure enough a few days later I received a package from my friends there. The first thing I noticed was the beautiful presentation of the corset. It comes in a presentation bag that suggests this is a product of quality. My friends included a detailed handbook about care for the corset and how to season it. These things are very important as the investment in effort pays off as you continue to use their product. I was particularly impressed by the attention to detail that had been made. On inspection the corset was perfect. I’ve bought corsets before and I’ve had them hand made. This corset was without doubt one of the nicest and best fitting I’ve ever had. I look forward to years of service with it.
Now, Max is looking forward to years of service too, I think. I suppose I should ask him to help me put it on sometime. Teasing the puppies can be such fun!
If you’re interested in getting into a great corset I have a special surprise for you. If you use this code – FIONA15 – you will get a special discount from GlamorousCorset.com Be sure to have a good look around their website. It’s very comprehensive and you’ll quickly realise that your dealing with a company that is proud of doing the job right. Send them proper measurements as I’ve described above, and be sure to mention I sent you!
Have a wonderful week.
😊
Fiona
Hi,
The sun is blazing down on my garden, and I can hear Ali moving about in the distance, his hand tools musically clinking as he cleans up the flower beds. He has recently declared a Jihad on the weeds in the north border.
As he arrived this afternoon in his Smartcar, equipped with the rifle rack that Sylvester gave him, re-purposed to carry his rakes and spades, I was dancing – in my kitchen to the sounds of my childhood –https://youtu.be/v16CwfkppeI – getting carried away in my own little world. I had put together a big pitcher of sangria, a nice zinfandel with pineapple chunks and oranges, for myself, Ali while he worked, Max who was climbing a tree and trying to get to my pussy (don’t ask), and Bernard who will be over later this afternoon with some proofs from our latest photoshoot.
My garden is one of my favorite places in the summer. It’s a hive of activity. I still don’t know exactly what Max is doing climbing that tree, though. Shirtless and tanned he is, well, an entertaining diversion. He’s trying so hard, but I don’t think he’s ever going to get my pussy. All the same it’s fun to watch.
The summer here in Montreal is in full swing, and I am thrilled to say that we’re welcoming new members to my program all the time. I have been thrilled to see so many new members recently, it quite takes my breath away. I’ve also been getting a lot of mail – my inbox has been quite literally pounded with interesting mail. Have a listen to a couple of my responses here:https://soundcloud.com/user-474146023/probing-fionas-inbox-2
So, I thought I’d include a couple of things in today’s message. One is something I am constantly asked about. Breasts. Yes, always something we like to give our attention. But, if you don’t want to go on a hormone therapy treatment, what can you do to stimulate a little breast growth? I am so glad you asked!
There’s a few soy drinks out there, including ‘So Good’, that are quite rich in phytoestrogens that mimic the female hormone estrogen. If you drink a moderate amount daily you will experience a small increase in breast size. Women have known of this trick for years, and can lift their breast size by one or two cup sizes quite easily. So can you. If you’re not in North America (and I have members from all over the globe now) then finding another milk like soy drink will likely have the same effect.
Gosh, you learn some useful things from me! You can also use one of my breast enlargement self-hypnosis files here: https://youtu.be/15v1usMJAXg Self hypnosis for breast enlargement has been around since the sixties, and is well documented to be successful. I have many gurls who have experienced great results with this.
Have fun, and enjoy your weekend.
🙂
Fiona
Well, I feel quite awkward about sending you this message. As you may know, Max – my neighbors son – has been job shadowing at my work for a little while. The advertising agency is very good for this, but what happened today was quite beyond my experience. I feel I have to share.
Max had his young friend Micheal drop by the office. Rather than hanging around like a great goon, while Max finished off what he was doing, Micheal worked on something on his computer in my office. As it turned out, Max was tied up and had to work a little longer than anticipated, so his friend sat at the table in my office working away at an assignment for college. He was doing some sort of graphics training.
I was wearing a very thin pale blue blouse, my navy blue bra visible through it. My skirt was also rather shorter than strictly necessary, though no one had ever complained. Either way, what transpired was probably predictable.
I remember clearly freshening up my eye makeup, and glancing in the mirror of the compact as I applied a little more golden glow, noticing the way Micheal was staring at my behind. The only word that comes to mind is ‘drooling.’ One does get used to this.
Continue reading “Putting a little color in your cheeks.”
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Well, I feel quite awkward about sending you this message. As you may know, Max – my neighbors son – has been job shadowing at my work for a little while. The advertising agency is very good for this, but what happened today was quite beyond my experience. I feel I have to share.
Max had his young friend Micheal drop by the office. Rather than hanging around like a great goon, while Max finished off what he was doing, Micheal worked on something on his computer in my office. As it turned out, Max was tied up and had to work a little longer than anticipated, so his friend sat at the table in my office working away at an assignment for college. He was doing some sort of graphics training.
I was wearing a very thin pale blue blouse, my navy blue bra visible through it. My skirt was also rather shorter than strictly necessary, though no one had ever complained. Either way, what transpired was probably predictable.
I remember clearly freshening up my eye makeup, and glancing in the mirror of the compact as I applied a little more golden glow, noticing the way Micheal was staring at my behind. The only word that comes to mind is ‘drooling.’ One does get used to this.
Throughout the afternoon, now and then I would look up from my work and several times I caught Michael looking at me in a way that can only be described as salacious and lustful. Now, Max has way too many hormones dancing around inside his pants, but manages to control himself, even if I do tease him from time to time. I enjoy giving him the wrong end of the stick now and then and metaphorically giving him a good poke with it. After all, we all love a good poke. However, his friend Michael seemed positively entranced by my figure and unable to take his eyes off me.
I could see his furtive glances were drinking in my shape each time he secretly glanced at me. I could see him getting increasingly uneasy, and shifting awkwardly in his seat. I shot him a smile, as I worked and he blushed. This was all rather cute, until he got up unsteadily and walked over to my desk.
“Fiona,” he said nervously. I could see he was terribly anxious.
“Micheal, darling, what can I do for you,” I said as gently as I could.
“I…I…” He couldn’t get the words out.
“It’s ok, Micheal. You can say anything you want to me.”
He leaned into me and with the greatest of efforts spoke slowly and said, “I want to use your mouth.”
I was more than a little taken aback. I have been approached in many situations, and actually enjoy be propositioned, but this seemed a little odd.
I collected my thoughts and then said, being careful not to offend, “Just hold that thought for a moment.”
I slowly got to my feet and walked quickly out of my office to the coffee room, where I found Max loitering.
“Max,” I said firmly. “Come here! Now!”
He looked at me quizzically and said “Yes?”
“Micheal,” I said slowly, “Is he… Urm… He seems a little,” I didn’t have the chance to finish my sentence.
“Oh, I know,” Max said. “He’s a little odd. Tightly wound. Especially his lisp, and everything. Takes a lot to understand him sometimes.”
“Yes.” I said. “Exactly,” and slowly walked back to my office. As though the fog was clearing, suddenly all became clear, and I realized he must have been asking for a mouse for his computer.
‘Yes,’ I thought. ‘That must be it.’ I knew he’d been working on some graphics and a good mouse would make that a lot easier.
I walked in with renewed certainty and a sense of clarification, a crisis easily averted. Sitting at the table, Michael still looked nervous and awkward. ‘Silly boy,’ I thought, giggling to myself.
“Don’t worry, Michael,” I said. “I’m sure I can help you with that,” and I gave him a smile.
He blushed, and stood up, closed the door of my office and then to my surprise excitedly said, “I altho want your puthy…”
Now, I must get on with this email because there’s so much mounting on my desk, and I am getting a little behind (…phrasing…).
I meant to chat with you as most of my members are in USA and Europe. As we move into the glories of summer a wonderful opportunity comes, as we can apply a little blush, and blame the sun should anyone notice. If you are going out and dressing in public already this may seem a little redundant, of course.
I like as many as possible of my members to integrate a little of their femme self into every day. Using subtle amounts of make up does this wonderfully.
In summer most women actually use a little less make up, though using a bronzer is an exception. There’s no reason in the world why you shouldn’t do the same. Just as secretly wearing panties to work is liberating, using a little additional color on your cheeks has the same effect.
Now, as for Max, I can think of a good way to put some color in his cheeks. Where’s my office ruler?
Fiona
At last, the weekend. It was very busy this week at the advertising agency, and Max, my next door neighbors 19 year old son, joined me to ‘job shadow’. He’s been following me around (no change there!) to see what I get up to and see if perhaps after he finishes college he should consider a career in the world of advertising.
Unfortunately, he chose to job shadow the week we are moving offices. All the same he made himself very useful, his muscly arms being put to good use helping pack up my office. I have some lovely plants in the office, and made sure they were all packed nicely in a big chest, so they would survive the move.
“Would you like me to drill your box?” Asked Max, as I was stretching over the desk, reaching to unplug a phone.
“I’m sorry?” I said, a little perplexed. Max has always had what might be described as a healthy curiosity about my body, but this seemed uncharacteristically forward.
“Drill your box? Holes,” he said.
I looked very puzzled at him.
“You know, so the plants get more air.”
I realised he was talking about the big box I was using to move the plants. Better air flow would indeed help them.
“Max, you are such a good boy. You go right ahead and drill what ever you need to,” I told him.
That, however is not the main reason I decided to send this message. I decided to send a quick note to tell you about a great BBC radio broadcast I think you may enjoy. It’s an investigation into the idea of gender. I think you may find it every bit as fascinating as I did. It touches on the idea of gender not only being more complex but actually completely fluid.
You can listen to it here: Do We Have Enough Genders? http://bbc.in/23v0LRz
Let me know what you think of it.
Fiona
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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
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
Hi,
This morning, just as I was emerging from my morning yoga session, I was surprised to see Max (my neighbour’s son), huffing and puffing and coming in my rear entrance, a bundle of excited youthful anticipation. He was hurrying up the garden path, as I pulled up my yoga pants, and adjusted my hair.
Sebastian, my personal trainer, was as surprised as I was myself. He likes to come early to stretch me, as I’m sure my regular members are aware.
“Fiona,” said Max, bursting into my kitchen. “Can I take a look at your beaver?”
As you probably know, today is Canada Day. It’s a tradition in Huckleberry Close, to come over to my house on Canada Day, and look at my beaver, the centrepiece of the Canada Day party I always throw, to celebrate us throwing off the shackles of oppressive colonialism before Canada declared itself free of tyrannical rule from London. Actually, that’s not really true. We just all sort of agreed that we’d have a new flag and continue to be the friends we’ve always been. No one was being either tyrannical or oppressive, but it’s a good excuse for a party. And the centre piece of the party is my beaver, a stuffed animal that has become something of a mascot over the years. It’s traditional for us to enjoy some lovely Canadian Wines, from British Columbia (a place that is neither British nor Columbian), swap hockey stories and talk about Zamboni’s while apologizing to one another. We all eat poutine and make fun of people we love from Newfoundland, and generally act in an understated but quietly superior way, while listening to The Tragically Hip, 54 40, Five Man Electrical Band, Rush and many other great Canadian bands.
I told Max, “Darling, calm down. My beaver is open to everyone, just give me a moment to prepare it! You’ll get your turn. Just don’t get too excited. It’s Canada Day, you’ll have to pace yourself.”
We have so many wonderful traditions in Canada. Being Canadian means so many wonderful things to all the peoples of our country. We love our diversity, our first nations people and our ability not to elect a leader largely perceived as a psychopath and moron by the rest of the planet.
If Max gets over excited, of course, it will be over before it’s really started. It can happen to us all. I handed him a pot of maple syrup and suggested he put it out on the garden table while I went down to get the noble beast, and then he could examine my beaver to his hearts content.
This year’s wine of choice is Quill, a distinctive Rose from Vancouver Island, which is quite delightful and goes rather well with the short skirt I’m wearing. It’s light, a little cheeky and subtly stimulating. The wine’s not bad either. I know we’ll be toasting Sylvester, who has decided to commit to a course learning to drive a Zamboni at the local hockey arena. I must get things ready for the party shortly, so this will be a short email.
It may come as a surprise to some of you, but Marjory (my delightful lesbian neighbor) got her hand stuck in my beaver recently while trying to replace some of the stuffing. She was wedged right in there! I know what you’re thinking, what was she of all people doing, jammed up there? Well, she does fancy herself as something of an amateur taxidermist. Strange woman. She’s from Alaska, you know. Eventually we got her hand out, but ever since she’s been acting most strangely. She’s said on more than one occasion that she wishes her hands were a little smaller. I can’t think why! It’s almost as though she’s never heard of lube. I understand it softens the skin nicely and taxidermists swear by it.
I hurried down to the basement and found my beaver, then carried it up to my garden table, already bathed in warm summer sunshine. In the sunlight I could see it has begun to look a little tired. I suppose one can not be surprised. After all, my beaver has been fingered by many over the passing years. And yet, surprisingly it continues to put a contented smile on many of my friends faces. However, I do believe a beaver should be well groomed and well presented. I will speak to my local taxidermist and have him restuff it later this month.
With this in mind I resolved to make a Canada Day offer to all my friends and members. Anyone who emails me with the words in the subject line “Fiona, I’ll stuff your beaver!” before the end of Canada Day, July 1st, can have a free membership to My Little Black Book. This is worth $2.95 a month for crossdressing gurls, and $4.95 a month to Admirers. So, get your digits moving and I can help get some more members in there. And of course, now you’ll be featured in The Fiona Dobson Crossdressing App, as a member of My Little Black Book, which has been downloaded by over 5000 crossdressers.
Have a wonderful week.
😊
Fiona
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