I am wearing some lovely patterned leggings. I do yoga in them with my personal trainer, Sebastian. Heâs 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, letâs go back to Rose â 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 werenât covered in my biology studies in high school. It was disgustingly wonderful.
I do believe Sylvester may have been dropped on his head as a child. He really can be a little slow at times. However, as he returned to the table and joined Marjory and myself, we continued our chat about crossdressing and wives.
âWell, personally, I love to see a man dressed up in womenâs clothing,â said Marjory.
I should point out that Marjory doesnât really know how to take me. She is not quite sure how to manage the âIâm a lesbian, youâre a man, but you look like a womanâ thing. I once asked her if she found men dressed in womenâs clothing attractive. Her response was that they are less repulsive than men generally, but that a pig in a dress is still a pig in a dress.
I didnât really know how to deal with this. To put it in a nutshell, Marjory resents men generally and I canât really blame her. However, she gets along quite well with me now. I think she accepts that thereâs a lot to be said for the idea that gender is non binary. She sees thereâs a lot of middle ground. And this really is fair enough considering that as far as I am concerned Amanda, her girlfriend and my wifeâs best friend, barely passes as female.
What a wonderful surprise I had this week when a parcel arrived on my doorstep from my friends at Glamour Boutique. My new sandals had arrived, perfectly sized and packaged discretely.
Iâm sure that like me, youâve probably looked for a comfortable pair of sandals that look sophisticated, but are also practical. These shoes fit the bill perfectly. Having a good square heel they had the stability that gives confidence, but retained the classic lines that gives a masculine ankle a feminized appearance.
It so happened that in the evening I was out with Sebastian, taking Hannibal (my pet dachshund) for his evening walk. This has become something of an event recently. Because thereâs so few performance venues open currently due to Covid itâs become quite normal to see performers in the evenings along these paths. I have to say that thereâs some great performers out there putting on live shows in the open air. I took the opportunity to give the new sandals a bit of a test drive.
As you likely know Hannibal is a very chirpy little chap. Now, before you imagine I am a ditzy bimbo-like crossdresser, tottering along with a silly little dog, I should point out that Hannibal has a black studded collar with spikes, and I âflowâ rather than totter. Yes, years of practice.
I must say I am a little careful around some of these performers when I have Hannibal with me. Anyone who has ever owned a dachshund will be aware that you never let them near to anyone who calls themselves a balloon twister, for example. Accidents can happen, after all.
Few people realise that the dachshund is a very unusual type of dog. Most domesticated dog breeds are descendants of wild canine animals such as wolves. In the case of dachshunds the reverse is true.
Some dogs chase motorcycles, others chase cars. Hannibal has two bad habits. The first is his dislike of homeless people. Iâve found myself embarrassed a number of times as he wanders up to someone holding up a sign asking for change, stares at them for a moment and then relieves himself on their leg. I put it down to him being a homeless rescue and having had to fight for a slice of pepperoni pizza more than once in his life.
His other bad habit is to chase people in wheelchairs. This can be most unfortunate. The flailing arms, the cries for help, and all as they try in vain to speed away from his snapping jaws. Needless to say Dachshunds are faster than wheelchairs, as many otherwise abled people locally have become painfully aware. All the same, it does often draw an interested crowd as an electric wheelchair speeds along a path way, people leaping out of the way, pursued by a streak of brown and black with vicious growls and teeth flashing in the dusk.
As we walked along the beach I got a number of admiring glances. These shoes really do make a difference. A well designed shoe emphasises the length of the leg and shape of the foot. This pair did not disappoint. I have to say that many times Iâve found shoes online and ordered them, and theyâve not lived up to expectations. The most common of disappointments is poor sizing and uncomfortable. I know many of us who do crossdress struggle with heels. They may look lovely, but I know weâve all wondered how the hell weâre getting home in such agony, particularly when wearing them for the first time.
These heels were not only perfectly sized, they were actually comfortable. Yes, that may seem unlikely, but they felt great. The heel was high enough (3 1/4 inches) to give me a lift, and that wonderful posture that a well conceived pair of heels enables. As it turned out it was just as well.
I thought the commotion ahead, as we walked along the path, was a street performance of Macbeth. It seemed very realistic, and the gathered onlookers were most impressed. You can imagine our surprise as we watched and gradually realised we were not watching an adaption of Shakespeare, but were witnessing a mugging. Sebastian hustled me away and we hurried back in the direction of my condo at a fast jog, not wishing to get embroiled in the excitement.
As I relaxed and kicked off my shoes at home I realised that these were not only comfortable shoes, they were also perfectly suited to running away from a mugging in the park. Thatâs more than can be said for most of my heels. You can get your own pair here – https://www.glamourboutique.com/buy/shoes-hosiery/high-heels/square-heeled-sandal. Feel free to let the team at Glamour Boutique know Fiona sent you.
As Rose would gladly testify from beyond her Hampstead grave, there are many women who find crossdressing not only acceptable, but also an exciting turn on. Seeing a man put a cute pair of panties on, fasten a bra, and then slide into a sweater and jeans, all the time knowing that this is a statement of adoration for the female form is something many women appreciate as a deeply personal display of trust from their partner.
Itâs rather like saying, âLook, here I am. I willingly shed the trappings of masculinity, and adopt the more constrained and gentle appearance and values associated with the feminine side of myself. More than that, I am trusting you with this. I am laying myself bare before you as few men can have the courage to do. I am doing this in adoration of you and that part of myself that society has forced me to stifle.
The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss is a series of episodes taking a hilarious look at how one crossdresser brought his wife to a place of understanding and acceptance. It’s also instructive and full of good advice to those of us who wish to introduce our dressing to the principal relationship in our life. I hope you enjoy it. Get all episodes here.
Fiona
Part 1.
I sat in the garden enjoying the cool spring breeze.
Sylvester crossed the lawn carrying a tray of tea and ginger biscuits.
âIâve just had yet another experience with one of my members
that leaves me feeling quite sad,â I said as Sylvesterâs ham like fist gripped
my delicate tea pot and poured.
âWhat was that, then?â he asked.
âWell, I had this chat with another member who just felt he
couldnât talk to his wife about crossdressing. I mean, really, itâs awful. So
many of my lovely gurls are out there and barely even able to talk to anyone.â
âBut thatâs what youâre here for,â said Sylvester.
âWell, yes,â I replied. âBut there are certain things that a wife can do that even I may struggle to!â
I hope youâve been having a wonderful week as this glorious summer moves from inferno and forest fire toward another Covid surge. What curious times we live in! As we enter a little stifled Pride week, as few outdoor events are allowed, we are all making the best of the situation here in Vancouver.
Surprising as it may seem, I am quite well known in Huckleberry close, not only as a transgendered person, but also as an account executive in a very successful advertising firm. It was no surprise then when Mistress Meg came to me with an idea for advertising campaign.
I took the printed sheet that she held out to me and looked at the image.
âHmmmmâŠâ I said, sagely rubbing my chin. I find itâs always a good idea to at least look like you know what youâre talking about in these situations. ââDonât be a dick, get the prick.â It might be construed as being just the tiniest bit in bad taste,â I said thoughtfully.
âI donât see why,â said Meg.
âWell, it implies that people who have not had the vaccine are, well, somehow deficient,â I said as diplomatically as I could.
âThey are,â replied Mistress Meg with her usual certainty.
âBe that as it may,â I continued, âwhy would you want to place an advertisement like this?â
âTo help your wifeâs friend,â said Meg.
âMy wife’s friend,â I said, a chill running through me.
âYou know, the one that looks like a pig,â replied Meg.
âAmanda?â
âAmanda. Yes, you know sheâs in film and theatre. Mostly advertising parts, but she does occasionally get a decent role.â
âI donât follow,â I said sounding confused.
âAmanda told me her parts were drying up,â continued Meg.
âIâm sorryâŠâ I muttered.
âHer acting parts. Sheâs hardly done any lately,â continued Meg. âAnd until the Covid numbers drop down thereâs going to be no filming and no theatre.â
âSo you thought youâd help by placing an ad in the local paper,â I said, âtelling people not to be a dick. Yes, I suppose there is a sort of logic to it.â
âWe should all do our bit,” said Meg. âItâs a good job Amanda has that job editing Pig And Pig Farmer Monthly, otherwise sheâd be in real trouble.â
âYes,â I mused. âI met the publisher once. He seemed very fond of Amanda, though I canât think why. He said that she was the apple of his eye. I think thatâs a good thing. Mind you he did have a sty in it. Rather apt, really when you think about it.â
Meg gave me a stern look. I didnât care much for that.
âItâs a good ad, but they might kick it out because of the wording,â I said and handed it back to her. âIt might do better as a social media campaign.â
I want to say thank you to all the wonderful members who have helped me transition over from Patreon to an improved membership model. If youâre interested in joining one of the programs and becoming a member you can do so for as little as $1 a month here â http://FionaDobson.com/my-programs. For those who donât wish to join as a member but do wish to help me along a little, using the advertising links on my site does help me as well. So, if youâre looking at buying a few little presents for yourself be sure to click through on some of the links on my site from time to time. You can browse a few things here – https://fionadobson.com/fionas-shopping-list/
Andrea is loosing her grip – and a lot more besides. Thank goodness Devina has thought of everything and is going to see that Andrea’s needs are all met.
Bernard has his little skiff out on the bay today and is pressing me to join him. What is an action transvestite like myself to do?
With a few good gusts blowing and Bernard urging me to join him sailing I know I have to be well prepared. And what could be nicer than this lovely looking wetsuit. This particular one is a 3mm neoprene one, providing enough UV protection to allow me a good afternoon’s sail without overheating, and should I end up taking a swim or capsizing, I know I won’t get cold. And all for less than $45.
Are you an action trannie? Be sure you’re suitably geared up for summer.
âYou sound dreadful, Lucy,â David said into the phone.
âI know. Damn stupid cold. Iâve got a nose like a cherry
tomato. And itâs sore.â
He had to admit the poor girl sounded ill. Far too ill, and contagious, for him to offer to go round and rub her front. But he was her best friend. The least he could do was offer to post Day Nurse through her letter box.
âDo you want anything from the chemist?â
âNo. Iâm drugged up to the eyeballs already. A bloody con,
though. I donât feel any better.â She coughed and spluttered, and David was
tempted to wipe the screen of his phone.
Ugh!
âBut I need a favour. Iâm supposed to play tennis this
afternoon. Can you cover for me?â
âCover what for you? Youâre not going to play are you?â
âCourse not. Iâm bloody dying here. I need you to take my
place.â On hearing a very deep sigh on the other end of the phone, Lucy added,
âItâs only doubles.â
David/Diana finds a fireman, but it’s going to take more than a few drops of water to put out his fire! Enjoy Mollie Blake’s contnuing saga.
For Our Eyes Only.
The droplets from his raincoat began to pool beneath Davidâs feet like globules of transparent bubblegum. Whatâs with the weather in this bloody country? Itâs the middle of June, for Peteâs sake. He eased the drenched coat from his shoulders and carried it, together with a dripping umbrella, into the bathroom, where he vented his anger with the cold, wet weather on the offending items by shaking them with an indulgent ferocity before hanging them to drip into his bath.
He stared at the mirror and cringed. In one hourâs time a guy would be waiting for him, or rather for Diana, across town, and it was getting late. He had hoped to be able to take his time to put his make-up on, desperate to try a new eye shadow that arrived in his mail yesterday.
The music is by The Monks. It’s great – and fit’s this weeks message very nicely. If you listen the the words you’ll get a lot out of it! Jules Sanderson talks about passing, and how it really isn’t important while crossdressing.
There was a steady stream of water falling between Ali, my Syrian gardenerâs legs.
âAli,â I said. âWould you mind telling me what youâre doing?â
âAh, madam. Iâm watching Maxâs premature ejaculation. He did it for his motherâŠâ
I paused. Iâve learned thatâs a good idea with Ali. Iâm never quite sure if heâs serious, or just confused.
âHis water hose⊠Heâs got it hooked up to Google â that online house thing. It waters the flowers. Well, drowns them actually. Itâs coming on prematurely and the water pressureâs too high.â
âI see,â I said. I decided I had better talk to that English teacher of his.
âI prefer to use a more natural method such as this watering can, madam,â he said as he continued to water the flowers.
Itâs been a strange week. Sylvester had a couple of his Navy friends staying. Billy Bates, a Quartermaster on a missile cruiser, and his friend Simon Steyns. Simon was recently demoted back to Ordinary Seaman following a nasty shoreside incident involving another member of the crew and a very worried looking hamster.
To round everything off Amanda brought her sister over and her revolting daughter. Chelsea, Amandaâs elder sister doesnât approve of Amandaâs relationship with Marjory. She sayâs itâs against God. I have to say I told her that Amanda is against God. I mean really! What immortal hand or eye would frame that fearful symmetry⊠urgh.
Chelsea Chizit and her daughter Emma are cut from the same cloth. Theyâre the sort of uncultured slobs that know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
It’s the perfect time of year to get into Pink!
And to top it off Max is besotted with Emma. To be fair, she is not entirely unpleasant to look at as she glides around the garden half naked in the sunshine, like some sort of fae. Yet Max just stares slack jawed and drools. Itâs most disturbing. He wanders around moony eyed murmuring âEmma Chizit⊠Emma Chizzit.â
âAli,â I said as firmly as I could, âDo you happen to know if Amanda is next door visiting Marjory?â
âOh yes,â he said. Not much gets passed Ali. He knows the comings and goings of most of Huckleberry Close. âShe wrist deep in âŠâ
âAli!â I said firmly.
â⊠in tomatoes. Theyâre canning the tomatoes she grew in her greenhouse. Making sauce…â
As everyone starts to get back to something approaching normal I am delighted to say I am enjoying occasional days like this where friends visit and life seems almost as it did before this infernal pandemic.
I am pleased to say I am double vaccinated, as are most of my friends. I hope you are to, and I’d encourage you to get it done as soon as possible, for your own good and the good of all those around you.
I hope you’ve been enjoying The Dating Game by Mollie Blake. It’s been featured this last few weeks on the website, Remember there always new content on the site, and I do get on now and then to chat with my members on the web chat functionality. If I happen to be on when you are there, be sure to say hello.
What could be a nicer color to celebrate summer. Check out this spectacular swing dress for just $31.99.You going to look delightful. Check it out here – https://amzn.to/3iq4a2v Fiona
From the minute we are born we encounter key moments in our livesâopening our eyes, the first smile, the spoken word, and those first steps. Before we know it we give our first kiss, lose our virginity, get our hearts broken. Yet all the time most of us are living the life that was prescribed in the most basic of forms even before that very first day we entered the worldâas a man or as a woman.
Professor David Forbes does not fall into this basic category of âmost of usâ. For him, and many others, life isnât that simple. He is a man who accepts that he is a man, but who is happier wearing make-up and a dress.
And now one of his studentâs has discovered he is a crossdresser and is asking for his help.
David handed Hector the cup of tea and sat opposite him at the small table in his office. âHave you spoken to anyone else?â
âNâno. Just you. And, and itâs good of you to listen to me. Itâitâs been a help to get it off my chest.â The stammer was beginning to creep back into Hectorâs speech.
âRight.â David got to his feet. âThat will do for now. Hand your papers in by the end of the week.â
He sauntered across his office to the far window and gazed down at the concourse beneath. Students were stretched out on the lawn enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. A tutorial on the lush grass would have worked well today, but it was too late now. Hopefully, there would be more opportunities to work outside. It always made a welcome change from the confines of his office. Not that it was a bad office.
âProfessor Forbes.â
David turned around to see Hector hovering at the doorway with some reluctance to leave.
âYes, Hector?â He waited to hear what was holding back this mature, postgraduate student.
Hector hesitated a moment before closing the door and approaching the table where he had been sitting with three other postgrad students. He hovered behind a chair. âIâI just wanted to let you know. I was in LâLâLondon recently.â
Part 1 can be found HERE. Find all episodes of The Dating Game HERE.
When David – AKA Diana – puts on the clothes he’d bought to go out dressed on the ski slopes Diana comes alive. This holiday on the slopes is going to get very hot.
David didnât think he could do it, even after spending a fortune on tight-fitting ski pants and a mink coloured padded jacket with a fur-lined hood to die for, plus a pair of tortoise-shell Ray-Bans where the salesman had obviously seen him coming! There was no way Diana could go skiing in the French Alps.
But here she was. Standing in the boot room complete with hair gel, lipstick and mascara. No one batted an eyelid. The waiter had even held the door open for her at breakfast this morning.
David grabbed his skis, ran his tongue over lips coated in ruby red lipstick and headed onto the slopes for another day cruising down snowy mountains, with only the swishing sounds of his skis for company.
The first time it happened I think I was about seven. Iâd recently been sent away to boarding school and was still in that confused state of not being sure of what I had done wrong to deserve this most terrible of fates.
As was normal every day I had got up with the wake up bell at 7 am. Iâd stumbled bleary eyed and mussy haired toward the bathrooms at the end of the dormitory. There the cream colored paint, still peeling today in my memory as it was then those many years ago, caught the fresh cold morning sunshine, leaving irregular shadows on the walls. There were other children stirring, all young and as lost looking as I was myself making their way toward their morning ablutions.
I went into one of the stalls and peed onto the frozen surface of the water lying inside the toilet. It would unfreeze soon, and the heavy galvanized iron mechanism of the flush would clunk unsatisfied, until it did. Probably the spent waste of three children would be enough to generate the heat that would unfreeze the water.
Sandrine looked around and spied the kitchen. She handed the slippers to David. âWhy donât Lucy and I get the drinks while you go and make yourself more comfortable?â
David hesitated a moment. âAre you FtM?â …
Wait. He of all people should know better than to ask such a personal question to a woman he barely knew. And she was a work colleague. What the hell was he thinking?
He was about to apologise when Sandrine replied.
âI like to be fluide. I donât put myself in just one âole. Is that âow you English say it?â Sandrine flashed her eyes at David before fixing them on Lucy.
Uncharacteristically Lucy had been silent for the past minute and a half, her nerves possibly still reverberating from asking Sandrine if she was a lesbian. Now her eyes were on David, and he couldnât help thinking she was worried for him. Well let her be!
He needed space to breathe. âI think you mean âboxâ but âholeâ works too. Help yourselves.â
âOh, come on,â said Lucy, heading to the kitchen, never one to hide her impatience, or linger at the back of the queue when there was a glass of wine to be had.