Come and sit on my Zamboni.

Hi,

I am out of breath as I write this. I’ve only just got home after a most disturbing incident. I feel I have to write and tell you about it.

The day started calmly enough. I did my early morning yoga class, and then as I sipped a morning coffee I watched Ali, my gardener, picking figs from a tree I have in the garden. He really is a treasure, and as I went out to check on my bees, who are prodigiously working away producing honey, I could hear him humming a strange tune.

I am finding these summer mornings delightful. It’s my usual practice to wear something simple – a plain tennis skirt, some wedges, and a pastel top. I like to keep things very simple. My brightly colored nail polish sets it all off rather stylishly.

Ali glanced round and saw me in the garden and then fell into silence for a moment.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully, and carefully selected a juicy fig and handed it to me. “Such a health food, and a perfect one for you.”

“I do appreciate healthy foods, Ali,” I mused as I bit into the succulent fruit.

“That must be how you keep so trim,” he continued. “And is it not written that it is easier for a fat man to enter the kingdom of heaven, than to pass through the eye of a camel.”

I frowned and said, “I don’t think it is written. At least nowhere I’ve read it.”

I do wonder about Ali’s English. He was a professor of botany in Syria, before the terrible crisis over there. However, since coming here he’s been studying English. I’m not quite sure where his difficulty with English begins and his sense of irony ends. I added, “However, that is a perfect fig.”

It really is peaceful in my garden. The ripe fruit and soft early morning sun on my face reminded me how very fortunate I am to live here. Canada is truly a blessed country.

Picking up my bag and cell phone I decided to make the most of the morning, and took Hannibal, my dachshund, for his morning walk. As I strolled down Huckleberry Close I got a call from Sylvester, who has been learning to drive the Zamboni at the local ice arena. He’s really becoming quite skilled. He called to ask if I wanted to have breakfast with him at a café nearby. Naturally I agreed. They do the most delightful croissants, orange juice and coffee. The mother of the family that runs the café keeps bees and brings in her own honey. It’s really most delightful.

And so as Marjory was leaving for work, rather than drive I asked for a lift and rode with her the three miles to the arena, where she dropped me and decided to join us for breakfast. I think that after some years Marjory is warming to me. She still finds me a trifle odd, but she’s been a lot more settled since she started dating my wife’s childhood friend, Amanda.

Marjory and I walked into the huge ice arena, and there across the rink was Sylvester driving the Zamboni. The cool air wafting off the ice was a welcome relief from the heat. When Sylvester looked up he recognized Marjory and I and stopped the big ice grading machine.

“Come on over,” he shouted across the ice. “You want a ride?”

I’ve never been on a Zamboni before, so Marjory and I gingerly stepped out on the ice and tottered across to the vehicle. For those not familiar with the Zamboni, it’s a vehicle driven on an ice rink to resurface the ice. We do this so that the hockey games are played on a very flat surface. Ice has small crenelations if not properly smoothed making it unpleasant to skate, and the Zamboni does the job very well. Sylvester has been learning the skill recently, and now does the occasional turn at the arena cleaning up the surface for the skaters, and preparing it for the ritual slaughter of foreign hockey teams that keeps Canadians so amused. Really, it does. And they just keep coming back for more!

I stepped up onto the vehicle, my little tennis skirt riding a little high as I did so. Marjory followed me, looking a little bemused, and then Sylvester was off and driving around the ice, leaving a smooth glasslike finish behind us.

Now, keep in mind this was very early in the morning, and through the large windows out in the deserted car park I could see Marjory’s solitary car. As we rode around the ice I noticed someone was doing something to Marjory’s little car. The next thing I knew, the car was pulling away toward the exit of the car park.

“Marjory,” I said. “I think someone’s stealing your car!”

She looked out of the window, and sure enough, she shouted, “My car! My car!”

With remarkable composure Sylvester swung the big machine around toward the huge doors of the arena. He hit a remote control and the doors slowly began to open. I have to say I was most surprised at the turn of speed the Zamboni then displayed. Accelerating toward the opening doors Marjory and I clung on to our swarthy friend as the Zamboni flew off the ice and started out across the car park.

“Don’t worry,” said Sylvester, his hair swept back in the morning air as we raced across the car park. “I’ll catch him!”

The little car was exiting the car park and moving out into the slow moving morning traffic. Sylvester piloted the Zamboni skillfully out into the road and we shouted after the car thief, who was becoming increasingly ensnared in the traffic as we maneuvered between lanes, to the surprise of other drivers.

While Marjory called the local police, I hung on to the Zamboni and Sylvester steered us skillfully between cars with startled drivers looking incredulously at us as we navigated down the road in the ice smoothing machine.  It’s really not the sort of things you expect to see on the morning commute in 32 degrees of heat (89 degrees Fahrenheit).

As the cars ground to a halt at the traffic lights ahead, a police car appeared and started cutting through the traffic. Marjory was talking to the emergency operator, who relayed her instructions directly to the police cruiser.

A moment later the traffic stopped, police car on one side of Marjory’s car, and Zamboni halted flush with the drivers side. Marjory’s little car was completely boxed in. It was at this point that I decided it might be wise to make myself a little scarce. With a smile to Sylvester and a polite wave to the car thief, who was trying in vain to open the car door, I slipped of the Zamboni and made my way to the sidewalk.

As I left I could hear the sound of other sirens. Likely this would turn into a dogs dinner of police and press and god knows what.

At that moment the appalling Amanda called my cell.

“What on earth’s going on with Marjory? I’m trying to phone her and it just rings and rings,” she said sounding both annoyed and annoying.

“Ahh…. Her phone’s probably in her car.”

“So?” came the reply.

“Well, nothing really…” I wasn’t going to get into that with Amanda.

So, next time someone asks you if you’d like a ride on a Zamboni, keep in mind it may not go the way you planned. So much for breakfast! I’m sure Sylvester and Marjory will be occupied for a while there. I felt it best to hurry home to my kitchen, where I am writing this to you now.

I hope you’re enjoying the site. If you’re not, just come back a couple of days later and you’re likely going to find a whole lot of different content!

Have a lovely week,

🙂

Fiona

The way we think about biological sex is wrong – Emily Quinn

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Fiona.

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Auntie Kittie is at it again.

As Gerald comes to camp in her back garden, Auntie Kittie is up to her old tricks. Will he manage to figure out where to sleep? Is he going to be ok in his tent, and will Auntie Kittie help him get it up?

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Crossdressing – Keeping it in the family.

Does the family know? Do you share it? There’s a lot of questions about crossdressing, and gender fluid life that are likely to emerge. How does one handle that? Enjoy this discussion with Jules and Lenni, as they explore the subject.

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I’m looking forward to getting felt up in the loft.

Happy New Year to all my members. And what a wonderful time to accept who you are, and create the what you desire! A good start might be to sign up for Auntie Kitties’s Diary and join me as a Good Gurl for just $4.99 a month.

It’s a great time to start doing all those things we’ve been avoiding, like making our house more energy efficient and saving the world. With this in mind Sylvester is helping me install some insulation in the loft.

With so little snow on the local ski hills I can’t help thinking Climate Change is once again proving to be an issue. I said this very thing to Sylvester just the other day.

“I think it’s important we all do our share to reduce our carbon foot prints,” I said to him while in the garden.

I noticed Ali checking the soles of his gardening boots, as I said that.

I continued, “The sooner I get felt up in the loft the better!”

At this point Sylvester made some disgusting comment, but really, what can one do! He really can be quite coarse.

Have a lovely New Year. 2024 is likely to be an exciting one. Pull up your panties and strap in – I said ‘strap in’ – it’s going to be an exciting ride!

Enjoy a little Abba below.

🙂

Fiona

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Featured Friends – Chloe

If you’re early in your gender transition, maybe even just questioning your gender for the first time, where should you go from here?

Well, of course, there is no one “correct” path, but taking some time to reflect on and explore your gender identity can be a great starting point. You might be saying, this sounds great and all but what does that actually look like?

I put together a series of questions that help kickstart the gender reflection process, in the hopes of helping you deepen your understanding of your gender and hopefully gain additional clarity in trying to answer questions like “Am I trans, and if so, how do I know?”

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Kinky Christmas – Mollie Blake.

David — occasionally known as Diana — is preparing for a rather quiet Christmas. The best laid plans…

‘So you’re seriously not going to see your dad this year?’

For a moment David didn’t reply. This would be the first year in a long time not to go home to spend Christmas with his dad. The phone call from the old man, telling him he needn’t bother because of Covid and the Omicron variant, had been a kick in the teeth. All these years, David endured a festive period suppressing his need to be who he really was because he thought his father needed him. Even last year, amid the UK lockdown, David had to steal his way down South to make sure the man wasn’t alone. Now there is no lockdown, yet the words ‘I’m safer without you,’ conveyed his dad’s true feeling—he would rather be alone at Christmas than have his “queer” son spend the holiday with him. The bastard wasn’t even concerned about the safety of his only son. Just his bigoted self!

‘Yes, I’m serious. I’ll have a happy Christmas for a change. I’ve got whisky, gin, mince pies and chocolate.’ He ran his hand over his left breast, the smooth silk of his lilac cami-top teasing him. ‘And I’ll have all the company I need.’

‘You’re kidding, right.’ From Lucy’s lips this was more command than question. ‘My plan’s just been rewritten. I’m coming over.’

David was about to protest but he didn’t get chance to open his mouth.

‘And I want to spend Christmas with Diana, not know-it-all David.’ Her grin bounced down the phone and slapped David on the cheek as only Lucy’s could. ‘Have you got room in your freezer?’

‘Why?’

‘I’m bringing Haagen-dazs – a new duo, Belgian chocolate and vanilla crunch. And you can let Diana know, that will be the only vanilla delight she’ll experience on Christmas day. I’ve got a super-kinky pressie.’

David’s hand moved lower. ‘Ok, see you later.’

It was Christmas Eve and David opened the door to Lucy and her purple mane of thick waves falling over her shoulders.

‘Quick, let me through before this melts and we have to wait for it to go stiff again.’ She fled to David’s kitchen but not before passing her free hand over his crotch and laughing.

From her bag she pulled out the ice cream and popped it straight into the freezer. Then she withdrew a turkey crown big enough to feed them for a week! a bottle of prosecco and another gift bag bulging with gifts wrapped in shiny Christmas paper. She turned to David and beamed.

Now it was his turn. ‘As this is our first Christmas together, I got you a Christmas Eve gift.’

He dipped his hand into his trouser pocket and handed Lucy a small box wrapped in paper decorated with holly and berries.

Shredding the paper with the excitement of a toddler, Lucy discovered exquisite snowflake earrings carved in sterling silver.

‘They’re antique,’ David said.

‘They’re beautiful.’ Lucy proceeded to replace her bling Christmas tree ones with the snowflakes. ‘We’ve got a theme going here.’

David’s curiosity would have to wait until Christmas day.

‘Open this one first.’ It was Christmas morning and Lucy picked the larger present from her gift bag.

They were sitting up in bed, naked after a very “demanding” evening.

David held up a cotton vest top, the fabric imprinted with large snowflakes. In lilac, of course. He slipped it over his head. ‘I need some makeup on,’ he exclaimed after peering at his reflection in the dressing table mirror.

‘Here, you’ll want this.’ Lucy handed over another present.

The wrapping paper ripped off, David rolled up a lipstick to reveal a deep purple colour. It would be a new shade for Diana. He licked his lips with an alluring glint in his eye. ‘Let me see if it suits you.’

He leaned forward and placed his lips over Lucy’s left nipple, leaving a perfect purple “kiss” surrounding her darkened nipple.

With blush and mascara to complete her attire, Diana blew a kiss to her own reflection. ‘I’ll put the turkey in the oven and then you can open your gift.’

‘You knew I had my eye on these in Harvey Nicks!’ Lucy declared, stepping into Jimmy Choo 4 inch stilettos which had been way beyond her budget.

Diana watched with admiration tinged with a touch of jealousy – there was no way David could walk on those. But it didn’t matter. They would have hidden her Christmas-red toenails anyway.

Delving into the gift bag once more, Lucy pulled out parcels containing Terry’s chocolate orange, a bottle of Drambuie and a candle in the shape of a reindeer – soon to come to a fiery end this evening. One box remained. ‘This is to wait until after dinner.’

After preparing the meal to Christmas pop blaring in the background, and eating to Carols from St Paul’s Cathedral, the couple finally retired to the lounge armed with Bollinger and the board game, Risk. Lucy may have been short on stature but she packed a punch and was one tough cookie when it came to world domination, or at least David and Diana’s.

As evening descended and the bedroom beckoned once more, Lucy handed Diana the final gift. Diana fondled the lilac silicone love ring, her fingers tracing the raised snowflakes on the outer ring. She licked her lips and grabbed Lucy’s hand.

‘Wait a sec,’ Lucy yelled, slipping away into the kitchen to return with the erotically delectable Haagen-dazs. The large tub contained far too much for them to eat, but none of it would go to waste.

This was the best Christmas ever.

Wishing Fiona and all her gurls a wonderful, safe and happy Christmas and a New Year free from fear.

Get more Mollie Blake HERE.

Once upon a Christmas Time in the West.

I am thrilled to be spending a little time in Mexico in the beautiful Baja peninsula. I’ll be online most evenings over Christmas and chatting through the website chat function. And no, it’s not a chat bot. It’s really me.

For any of my lovely members wanting to reach out, feel free to come by and say hello.

As I said to Sylvester just today, “I don’t like to think of any of my members struggling over Christmas. I like them to have a place they can come.”

Sylvester then made some obscene comment not worth repeating here. You know he really can be quite coarse.

If you’re feeling at a loose end try some of my Stories or for something a little different have a look at some of my Featured Friends. There’s a load of content there that will keep you entertained. Failing that, just listen to some of the music HERE.

🙂

Fiona.

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Jingle All The Way – Mollie Blake

Jingle All The Way by Mollie Blake

David harbors a secret inner self. You’re going to love Diana! Enjoy more Mollie Blake here!

It was just two weeks before Christmas when David pulled up outside a small remote cottage in the heart of the New Forest, England. He, or rather Diana, sometimes rented this place to escape. Here, there was no one to hide from. His suitcase was full of flouncy dresses and skirts, sparkly festive tops, sexy lingerie and make-up, with space left for some colourful running gear.

The fresh air of the forest made running here a lot more endurable than jogging on the treadmill in the gym, and the eye-catching patterned Lycra and pink bandana made it a lot more fun.

On the second morning, clad in tight-fitting black and white animal print Lycra with a length of tinsel tied around his waist, a shocking pink bandana and gloves to match, and run-proof(!) mascara with fuchsia lipstick, David set off down the track. Along the ten mile trail he was accompanied by nothing more than chilly air and crunching leaves and twigs beneath his feet.

“Hey! Sorry to interrupt your run but could you do me a huge favour?”

The voice appeared to come from a massive brown dog, and it stopped David in his tracks. Fuck! That’s a big dog.

Continue reading “Jingle All The Way – Mollie Blake”

Sylvester’s put his organ in my back passage.

I do so hope you’re getting ready for a lovely Christmas. I will likely be on the website chatting with members and friends. We will manage though, but I feel it is important to remind my lovely members we are still in the throes of a pandemic. Just be a little careful.

In the meantime some of my more organised friends are getting ready for the New Year. I think it might be a little optimistic, but Marjory (who you will remember does well on the competitive eating circuit) is already going through her schedule for next year’s competitive eating events. It’s very competitive as you probably know. The organizers stage legs in various cities throughout the South. She is diligently trying to plan out next year’s schedule.

Inevitably it’s always at a time when Amanda is also very busy. However she usually manages to slip away from her demanding schedule at Pig And Pig Farmer a few times in the season to meet up with Marjory and give her a kiss between the legs.

But that’s not the main reason I am writing to you. I was most surprised this morning to look out of my back window and see Sylvester struggling up the back lane with a trailer behind his truck. Apparently, with all these restrictions on gatherings, the local church has taken the opportunity to do some much needed maintenance. Sylvester has helped by delivering some of their things to the company that services them.

Looking from my kitchen window I saw his truck approaching in the lane behind my house pulling an enormous trailer. I opened my window and called out to Sylvester, “What on earth do you have there, dear?”

“It’s the organ,” he replied. ‘I need to park it up while I get a tarpaulin. It looks like it might rain in a little while.”

“That’s OK,” I called down the lane. “Just leave it in my back passage.”

I hope he gets a tarpaulin for it quickly. It’s much better wrapped, I think. Parked there it will be fine for a couple of hours though, I think. What a very big heart Sylvester has, helping the church out like that.  Rainbow has in the past offered yoga classes at the church, and when the members of the church council organised a collection for her, knowing she’s not got much work at present, they presented her with a handy and much needed windfall.

I asked her what she was planning to do with it, and she said she was very grateful to the gentlemen of the church council and that she was planning to blow the whole lot over Christmas. It seemed a rather unusual turn of phrase, I have to admit.

For those of you alone this Christmas I really do think you’d enjoy my Whatsapp Group. It provides a level of community connection many of us are missing in our lives. There’s an active group of crossdressing friends there and we’d welcome you as well. You can find all the details HERE. It’s much better than feeling alone over Christmas. Of course I also have a couple of other ways for you to connect and feel part of the community.

I will be writing again soon, but if you find yourself with a little time on your hands over the Christmas period, be sure to check out my Patreon. For those who don’t have much in the way of community around them, I would suggest you join my Whatsapp Group and connect with the lovely group of members who are chatting so nicely on there.

I’ll be in touch soon, but now I have to go and see what Sylvester is up to. He appears to be putting some sort of lubricant on his organ.

Fiona http://FionaDobson.com

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