Hobbs Island Hotel – A Halloween Ghost Story

Hobbs Island Hotel

By Fiona Dobson

When Elizabeth died my world stopped revolving and it seemed my life ground to a halt.  It was an unexpected death, as so many illnesses are, but mercifully swift.

Merciful, that is, for her. It left me with an empty life before me. How many years? I don’t know. I suppose it doesn’t matter.

So it was months later that I found myself waiting on lonely shore, in a gusty wind looking out at the bleak expanse of water, with Hobbs Island several miles distant, feeling desolate. But that was how each day felt at the time. Completely empty. It had been just six months, and my world had gone from full, exciting and fulfilled, to something as forbidding as that shoreline itself.

I should explain. I’d arrived a few days early for the workshop I was scheduled to give, with the intent to use the time to write. I had a piece to complete about the psychology of addiction, and it had been my intention to use those few days to complete the article in the quiet of the retreat. I suppose I should have checked with the organisers more carefully. I’d just assumed the hotel would be open, even though it was out of season.

After walking from the railway station to the quay, I made the call to my contact only to learn that the hotel on Hobbs Island would be closed. As it happened, the owner had been contacted and gave me permission to stay, even though I’d have to fend for myself in the empty old building.

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Hannibal the vibrating dachshund.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fiona

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

Fiona.

An English Country Garden

An English Country Garden is a powerful real life story about how crossdressing has impacted the life of Julius Braddock, a former press photographer from South Africa. It is a serious study of crossdressing, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

At times frightening and poignant, the story explores the extremes of human emotions and looks at how crossdressing helps, and how one particular person can change the experience of crossdressing radically. Looking at stages familiar to most people who crossdress, this narrative provides a touching and helpful insight to allowing feminine aspect of oneself to develop.

The narrative is delivered in four sections, and readers are encouraged to comment and share thoughts about each part, to provide their own insights and experience to others on this journey.

An English Country Garden is free but I do ask you to use the comments as you work through the four parts. It helps others. FD

You can continue to Part 1 by using the link below.

Continue reading “An English Country Garden”

Clothes Maketh The Man

Clothes Maketh The Man is an iconic serial about crossdressing that’s been running since 2016. New episodes are added monthly, as we follow the hapless adventures of Andy – or Andrea – as he progresses in a tortured path fuelled by curiosity, passion and excitement.

FIND EPISODE 1 HERE.

FIND THE LATEST EPISODE HERE.

Have you ever felt that perhaps you’ve placed your trust in the wrong person? Well, welcome to Andy’s world. He progresses from seemingly innocent situation to catastrophe with a regularity that will entertain you, and hopefully you’ll never experience. Imagine the moment when a trusted friend says ‘Trust me!‘ – and suddenly you realize things are going to go very, very badly.

Clothes Maketh The Man

You can always find the latest version of Clothes Maketh The Man by using the search box on the home page of http://FionaDobson.com – or just by using this link. Search For Clothes Maketh The Man.

If you’re enjoying the story, be sure to comment on the pages!

🙂

Fiona

– http://FionaDobson.com