Tag: Bernard

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Bernard put his foot in it.

As you know, I am a very sensitive person.  I like to think others come to me because of my gentle nature and empathy. For this very reason I was very concerned about a conversation I recently had with Ali, my gardener and Bernard, my photographer. Things are a little quiet at the advertising agency at present, so Bernard has been out getting his boat ready for the season. He does so love his sailing.

Ali and I were enjoying a very nice German Riesling in the garden, talking about plans I have for the arboretum, or scrub land as Sylvester rather ignorantly refers to the more unkempt  section at the bottom of my garden.

“The Germans really are talented wine makers,” I said as I surveyed the wild flowers.

“Indeed,” said Ali, in his heavily accented Syrian English. “This is a very ‘HĂ€nde hoch’.”

“Ali, I don’t think you can say that. We’re all on the same side now! Is it racist? I don’t know. Besides,” I added, “you drive a smart car. Isn’t that made by Mercedes?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s my English, you know,” mumbled Ali. I am concerned about his language skills, but I some times suspect he may be trying to pull the wool over my eyes.

At that very moment Bernard appeared at my Garden gate looking most concerned. I invited him in and sat him at the garden table and asked what on earth could be the matter.

“Well,” he started, looking very downcast, “I think I may have upset someone down at the sailing club.”

“How on earth did you do that,” I asked, eager to help, as ever.

“I was trying to be helpful,” said Bernard.  “It was the Commodore.  He was moving his boat, and I offered to lend him a hand.”

“Bernard, that sounds very kind of you,” I observed.

“You obviously don’t remember I introduced you to Andrew a couple of years ago at the year end dinner. You remember, he was the guy with only one arm,” replied Bernard awkwardly.

“Only one arm,” I said slowly. “Ah, yes. I remember now. And you offered to lend him a hand?”

“Yes. It just, sort of, came out,” he continued. “And things got a little chilly after that.”

Just because numbers are improving, it’s not yet time to stop wearing a mask.

“Are you sure he took offence,” I asked. “It might be that you’re imagining this. He’s probably just fine.”

At this point Ali chimed in, “You offered to help the fellow. Where’s the ‘arm in that?”

I fixed Ali with a cold stare.

“Ali, that’s not funny,” I said.

You can see the sort of dreadful thing I have to put up with. However, on a brighter note, I am thrilled to say my Premium Program for women is going very nicely. If you know anyone that would benefit from this great program, be sure to suggest they visit my Patreon and look for the $5 a month Package, which is especially for them.

Auntie Kittie has a great new diary entry today, so if you’re a member be sure to check it out.

Have a lovely weekend, stay safe and get a vaccine!

Fiona

PS – Yes. Be sure to get a vaccine. I said that. And I had mine about 10 days ago. It’s about the most satisfying prick that’s been in me in a while!

Check out my programs here. I have something for everyone.

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Things are warming up.

Auntie Kittie and her naughty nieces have been having an exciting spring. Get Aunties diary for just $1 a month.

I am happy to say that a few friends and I have been able to gather safely, and socially distanced, in my garden of late.  Seeing Sebastian, Sylvester and Bernard all sitting there, along with Marjory and Amanda was a very special treat after such a long time when gatherings have been a bad idea.  I am thrilled to say that we’ve finally all ben vaccinated.

Each of my friends brought an item they had prepared themselves. Sebastian whipped out his lovely sausage, which I am sure you know I just can’t get enough of! Just when I think I can’t take any more of it, he surprises me with more.

I was however a little disturbed as Sylvester leaned suggestively over toward Amanda and asked her if she’d like to try a cream horn. He really can be quite coarse, you know. It did remind me though, I did have to speak to Amanda confidentially, and make something of an apology.

This was a matter which by its very nature is unpleasant, however, when Amanda had asked me about a little problem she has I felt obliged to assist. Now, as you know, Amanda is not exactly my favorite person being my wife’s friend and former lover from university. Anyway, it seems Amanda has a problem with something politely described as ‘hyperhidrosis’. In plain English this translates through to ‘she sweats like a gross pig’, something not all together surprising as she is the editor of Pig and Pig Farmer Weekly.

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When she approached me confidentially to ask my advice, which as you are doubtless aware I offer without judgement or any desire to embarrass, I was happy to help the poor pig
 oops
 woman. Pointing out the fact that it may be a sign of more serious health issues, such as diabetes, infection or a thyroid issue, I suggested that the most likely cause was that she was a little out of shape and that she might think of getting more active.  Perhaps she should go out with Bernard in his sailboat, or spend more time on her bicycle than in her Prius. Or occasionally walk somewhere.

“But, Fiona,” she replied by text, during a brief exchange, “I feel so embarrassed about my sweating. If I exercise more people will see it. I have great lines of sweat on my tee shirt, and under my arms.”

I pushed the gross imagery from my mind and suggested “Perhaps an antiperspirant
”

The texts flowed to and fro with her asking for recommendations, and as it happened the advertising agency for whom I work do handle an account for a large manufacturer of healthy personal products, so I suggested their antiperspirant stick product, which I had couriered over to her directly. We’re particularly proud of our association with this company, having suggested some slight revisions to the previously ungainly shape of the product. It is now sportily shaped in an aerodynamic style.

“It’s easy to use,” I texted her. “Just remove top and push up bottom.”

Well, needless to say I did not mean her to take the instructions quite so literally. I suppose when people depend on texts it is somewhat easy to take them a little out of context. Needless to say Amanda was experiencing a degree of discomfort, and I felt I should offer my sympathy.

By the way you can read more of any character I mention by drilling down into the hotlinked references to them, if you feel so inclined. It’s a fun way to explore the strange world I navigate daily.

I’d like to suggest a very worthy charitable cause for my members today. I don’t do this often, as I know not everyone is able to help. Today however I think it important to raise awareness of many of our sisters in quite dire need in India. It’s not easy being trans at the best of times but during a pandemic things can be extremely difficult. Of course, we can’t help everyone on the planet, but helping those where the buck goes furthest is probably not a bad idea. Anyway, check out this campaign, and if it resonates I am sure your help will not be unappreciated.

Check out my programs here. I have something for everyone.

Have a lovely week and stay safe,

😊

Fiona

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Spring is in the air.

Bernard is full of the joys of spring at this time of year. He’s doing all sorts of maintenance on his little boat, cleaning his fishing gear until it’s spotlessly clean, and also polishing up his weapon.  He’s a very keen outdoor sportsman.

We’ve had many good times in the past when we’ve travelled together for the advertising agency, although there’s been no travel happening for a while.  As I see him stripping his gun I am reminded of a lovely trip we had in the highlands of Scotland some years ago. We’d been invited to shoot grouse on the moors. The beauty of the landscape in that fresh northern light is quite breathtaking. Northern Scotland must be one of the most evocative places on earth, with it’s wild wind swept landscape, lightly brushed with heather.

We’d walked for miles over the moor and seen ptarmigan and quail at a distance, but it looked like Bernard was going to come back empty handed.  I was simply enjoying a lovely day out in the fresh air, and then Bernard got terribly excited, and the next thing I knew he shot a load over my head. It was quite exhilarating. Perhaps you can imagine.

At work I have been surprised by the emergence of a number of committee’s within the advertising agency. We have one for racial awareness, one for staff empowerment and of course one for gender issues, and others being formed all the time. The job of these task forces is to make sure staff are aware of issues and to maintain a high standard of awareness of contentious issues, for both our clients and our staff. I must say, I think it’s high time awareness of some of these issues was brought to the fore. It’s a pleasure to see several new faces on these committees, and I’ve been asked to sit on several of them already.

Sebastian was in my kitchen this morning drinking a freshly squeezed orange juice as I stretched in preparation for our yoga class. I must say I do love the yoga wear.  Nice leggings and a sports bra are a wonderful look for any gurl.

Get the full story on breasts and how to get your hands on them.

“I am getting a few more clients,” said Sebastian. “I think people want to get in shape for the summer.”

“Well, now that we’re getting past this damned virus,” I replied, “I’m sure more people are focusing on their health. It’s a precious gift and needs to be nurtured.”

“Speaking of nurturing,” said Sebastian, “I’ve started a self help group for people who do self-harm.”

“Sebastian, that’s so thoughtful of you. What on earth made you think of such a thing?”

“Well, Rainbow struggled with it,” He told me.  â€œSo, I figured I’d create a support group. I have to say it’s a hard slog though.  Like banging your head against a brick wall.”

“How very public spirited of you,” I replied.

I have included a post on my website about Sebastian’s suggestions for yoga wear for my members. He’s been very helpful and put some great ideas up there. You can find it HERE.

Don’t forget, you can join my Patreon for as little as $1 a month HERE. It’s the most fun dollar you’ll spend this month, I guarantee it!

Have a lovely week, and be sure to let me know how you’re getting along.

🙂

Fiona

  • http://FionaDobson.com
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Sylvester’s got his knob out and is giving it a polish.

We had a little socially distanced gathering the other day which I feel I should tell you about.  Amanda, as you likely know, is my wife’s friend and the editor of Pig And Pig Farmer Weekly, the seventh most popular pig related publication in the Midwest. As such I have found inviting her to some brainstorming sessions has helped at times. On this occasion Bernard, my photographer, and Sebastian were also present.

Poor Sebastian, he’s very worried about his sister, who you will remember made a small error and applied for the job involving a little ‘light house keeping’, and is now positioned in the far north manning a navigation outpost alone in the northern arctic. Bernard is also feeling quite disrupted. He loves to go hunting and fishing. The cold months unfortunately reduce his leisure activities substantially. So, you can see the need for a something to destress us all seemed quite pressing.

“I think we should address the elephant in the room,” said Bernard. Naturally I glanced at Amanda. He continued, “we need some direction.  Something to help us see past how difficult things are at the moment. We need some goals.”

“You are so right, Bernard,” I agreed. “It’s like my friend Justin said just the other day. Spring is coming! We should remember that!”

It’s not unusual for me to have a call from the Prime Minister’s office late in the evening, with Mr. Trudeau looking for a little advice.  He often asks me for a helping hand, and I am always happy to give him one.

Continue reading “Sylvester’s got his knob out and is giving it a polish.”
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Bernard is choking on Sebastian’s sausage.

The other night Bernard was being uncharacteristically quiet at the table in the restaurant, with my friends and I enjoying the New Year celebrations. Sylvester and Ali were laughing. I remember, particularly, as I was explaining that while in Australia last year, between photoshoots, I had been diving and had been describing the various merits of the sea cucumber. Bernard had been on the trip, though since his transplant has not been doing much diving.

We were enjoying a wonderful meal at a restaurant in the heart of Montreal which served favorite dishes from around the world. Sebastian had ordered the German Sausage, and shared some of it with Bernard. The succulent meat was exquisitely prepared, and Bernard tucked into it with gusto.

That was when I noticed Bernard changing color. “Are you alright?” I asked. When there came no reply I felt a wave of panic sweep over me. It’s only a few short weeks since Bernard’s operation.

If you’re a regular reading of my material you’ll know that Amanda is not my favorite person on the planet. It was only as a favor to my wife that I invited her to join us for dinner. My wife is on one of her trips. This is a charitable one, I believe. If I remember rightly she’s feeding the hungry in Africa, or something. Maybe it’s the Africans in Hungary. It’s so hard to keep track of her. She has such a big heart. Before leaving on her mission of mercy she had made me promise to take Amanda out with us for dinner on New Years eve.

I remember very vividly, as that night I had chosen to wear a mid blue evening dress, with a bodice that laced up behind, and matching blue heels. The blue was a very particular shade, and as I watched Bernard he gradually changed color to a matching hue.

“What on earth is the matter with Bernard,” I said and looked at Sylvester.

“Search me,” answered Sylvester.

Suddenly Amanda leapt to her enormous feet, and shouted “Heimlich manoeuvre!” For a woman of disturbing proportions she certainly can move swiftly. It reminded me of one of those National Geographic TV shows, about when hippos attack.

“Don’t worry,” she said to a terrified looking Bernard, who by now was clearly choking. “I’m a trained professional.”

I took a long sip of my wine, and said to Sylvester, “This should be interesting.”

Amanda was behind Bernard, wrapping her arms around him and began squeezing. Bernard shifted to a deeper shade of blue.

“That’s it Amanda, you need to reach around him,” said Sylvester.

“And then jerk him. You’ve got the idea,” I added helpfully. Amanda seemed to be thrusting powerfully with her hips, and Bernard looked increasingly alarmed.

A moment later his head jerked back and he coughed and his throat seemed to clear. I was most impressed by the whole thing. Amanda had indeed saved the day, and Bernard had made a new friend.

What a way to go into the New Year. So, if you feel like sharing, let me know what New Years Resolutions you plan to break this year.

I sincerely hope you are enjoying the news I share with you. You can participate and comment even more at http://FionaDobson.com

🙂

Fiona
Enjoy this video about New Years resolutions!
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Can you spot the idiot in this picture?

I have a short tale to tell you that probably will go down as one of my less stellar moments in my career in advertising.  Because of some of the people concerned you will understand that I have to be a little vague on some of the names.  Needless to say, the primary protagonist in this little adventure was none other than one who shares their name with a certain occupant of the White House.

“You must be very proud,” I said.

Well, I had no idea at the time, of course, only aware that one of the charities that we work with at the advertising agency wanted me to organise Bernard (my photographer) to come to one of their locations for a photo opportunity that I was informed could be very valuable in the fund raising campaigns that we typically manage in the fall.

As a result Bernard and I took the flight from Montreal to Vancouver, and then north to the Yukon, where a local company flew us on to a remote hunting lodge. Now, here’s the back story.  Apparently some hunter from the US had decided they want to shoot one of our bears. It’s not that we are short of bears, but the area of incredible beauty that this particular ‘sportsman’ wanted to hunt in is designated as a national park.  Now, we take these things rather seriously in Canada. There’s meant to be no hunting of certain species in the national park, however I was informed that a large donation would be made to the conservancy were this particular hunter allowed access, and a special dispensation had been granted.

Continue reading “Can you spot the idiot in this picture?”
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Are you an ‘animal lover’?

Good evening,

As you likely know the advertising agency which I work for has some diverse and interesting accounts.  One of the most interesting is the local wildlife park. Just this morning I was out there, wearing what I think was a rather fetching safari suit, with a zebra print blouse, and safari boots.  I do so love the look. You can see some of my favorite choices on my Pinterest –  https://www.pinterest.ca/fionadobson22/

The wildlife park is quite forward thinking, and there’s always something exciting going on.  A recent addition to the park is a polar bear, unfortunately this is one that’s been displaced due to loss of northern ice floes, the polar bears natural habitat, caused by climate change.  This 800 lbs creature is truly magnificent and is in a very well thought out enclosure.  You can also see an additional recently added attraction of delightful baby seals, as long as you arrive before lunch.

Bernard my photographer and I were down at the park attending a marketing meeting during which we were helping identify some talking points for their fall marketing campaign. Whilst there a rather unusual incident occurred. Montreal is a hotbed of alternative lifestyles and spiritual practices. Today an absent minded keeper from the wildlife park took an orangutan to be treated for some mild stress issues to an acupuncture clinic, but by mistake went next door into the voodoo temple. When the needles were plunged into the orangutan’s flabby orange backside 400 miles away Donald Trump collapsed clutching his face.

Bernard ended up with some wonderful images, and will be busy editing them all weekend. In the meantime he’s been helping me with A Guide To Selfies For Crossdressers. Hopefully I will get that out to you this week. Watch out for it on the site or on Patreon.

I do hope you and yours have a wonderful week.

😊

Fiona

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Let’s Get You In Shape The Fun Way.

You know keeping your body in shape is never a bad idea. However most gym exercises are very yang in nature – elevating the core energy of the body. There’s a great deal to be gained by releasing the tension in the body through a more yin form of exercise. That’s why yin yoga, or a hatha yoga class is so very important.


Some people identify this as a more feminine form of energy. I don’t really go quite that far, but I do feel that releasing tension through the use of yin yoga calm both the body and the mind. This allows me to be myself – a very feminine person.


Now, since Sebastian, my personal trainer, is off on some foolish jaunt to Molvania, teaching the less fortunate of the world about the benefits of being a vegan, I am left to take care of my own personal training needs. Honestly, how can someone be so selfish! He’s doing a stint with Personal Trainers Without Borders. Seems very egocentric to me.


Instead I will have to do my own yoga routine, along with Julie, Katia and Marjory from next door. Sylvester offered to come round and help me realign my chakras, but I’m not entirely sure that he interprets that the same way as I do. To be honest he’s far more useful greasing a half shaft and helping me with my fluids. In the car. He really can be very coarse at times.


However, I do think I should talk a little about exercise and how very important it is for all of us who crossdress. You may remember my photographer, Bernard, recently had some heart troubles resulting in a heart transplant. I am convinced this is because he doesn’t exercise properly. He really should be more committed. Admittedly being tazered certainly didn’t help. None the less he should be more aware of his health. Mind you, he’s not as bad as his brother, Fat Stewart. He hauls his bloated carcass around in a Ford F150 and is only likely to lose weight if he gets flensed.


So, after chatting with Marissa, one of my lovely members, I was put in mind of some of the benefits of exercising in the proper manner. That’s right, as a crossdresser it’s not as simple as merely going into a gym and lifting weights. If you want to look like Sylvester Stallone in a dress that might work for you, but if you’re looking for a more feminine shape it’s not going to do the things you’re looking for.


Most typical gym exercises are very yang in nature. The elevate the energy within the core of the body. As a crossdresser you’re looking for something a little different. Pumping iron bunches up the muscles and can even elevate anxiety. This is the reverse of where you want to be.


When you swim, particularly breast stroke, you are releasing energy. A slow methodical pace, using each stroke to release and push away tension, leave the body relaxed and supple. Crawl, or swimming in an over arm stroke, is more like a core exercise and isn’t what you’re looking for. The yin-like exercise of breast stroke, preferably daily, is extremely healthy and calming. It’s gentle. That feels more like where you need to go, doesn’t it?


Doing yoga is one of the best ways to allow your feminine energy to emerge. There’s no rocket science here. Getting into either Hatha, or better still, Yin yoga is a great way to find that side of yourself. Now, a word of caution. Don’t just wander into any yoga class, if you’re not sure what you’re looking for. An Ashtanga yoga class has more in common with a martial arts workout than what you likely think yoga is. You are looking for Hatha or Yin styles of yoga.


If you’re unable to get into a class I can thoroughly recommend Esther Ekhart’s website here: https://www.ekhartyoga.com/


I don’t get paid to recommend Esther. She’s lovely.


Have a lovely week, and try to get into a yoga class. If you’re a Patron and Seahorse Level of higher, you can also enjoy this spectacular self hypnosis file to make the experience all the more exciting and feminine.


🙂


Fiona.

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Finding you in good health.

I put my own success and good health down to my adherence to a strict and healthy diet. In Canada we have a wonderful chain of health food stores, called ‘Tim Hortons’. Where ever you roam in this great land you’re never far from a healthy nutritious snack. In fact, I think it fair to say Tim Hortons has become a Canadian institution as identifiable as our polite nature, love of hockey and insistence that we elect a Prime Minister that doesn’t have a serious personality disorder.

As you may know, my wife, Amanda and our neighbour Marjory, are traveling on an ornithological tour of Western Europe.

Amanda, my wife’s appalling friend, has come down with a severe case of Canestin poisoning,  which I understand is rare but not unknown in menopausal lesbians. I hasten to point out that I do not subscribe to Sylvester’s view that when lesbians are exposed to large amounts of oestrogen they run a severe risk of having their ovaries explode. Sylvester somehow equates this to the idea that ‘males have to masturbate at least once a day, or else their testicles burst into flame.’

In my kitchen with Sylvester, Bernard and Max, my neighbours son, I poured the tea.

“Whoever told you that nonsense,” I snapped at Sylvester.

“My mother,” he said.

“Sylvester,” I said in mock protest, “that’s complete nonsense! We all know that Max has to masturbate at least four times a day to prevent such a mishap!”

Young Max blushed and pursed his lips. I smiled at him fondly. Since that embarrassing matter of the carrot, poor Max has been very subdued, poor lamb.

I made the mistake of asking Bernard how he was, since he’d only been out of the hospital a few days.

“It’s all these tests,” he said. “They make me feel like a bloody pin cushion.”

“I’m sure the doctors are doing their best,” I reassured him.

“I’ve become a slave to my prostate,” he said sounding downcast.

“Aren’t we all,” I replied a little uncertainly.

“It seems to rule my life,” he continued.

“How very awkward,” I commiserated.

At that moment the kitchen door was flung open, and in staggered Sebastian. He looked terrible, with a weeks growth of facial hair on his chin.

“Good God, Sebastian! You look like you got interrupted halfway through eating a raw porcupine. What on earth happened?”

Sebastian was shaking with energy. “Just got back from Mexico,” he shouted. His words word tumbling over themselves to get out.

“I did the ayahuasca retreat
It was
 It was
” he was stammering his words out, his voice shaking.

“I think you’d better sit down and have a glass of water.” I said.

I decided to call my sister, who works at the local hospital. To cut a long story short, she swung by and using the drug testing kit nurses often carry, she determined that Sebastian’s Ayahuasca retreat could more accurately be described as an LSD retreat. That, and that he’d probably spent the last five days sleeping in a burlap sack. Not bad for a cool $3000.

As my sister was leaving she glanced at Bernard, and said, “Oh, Bernard. I didn’t see you there. I didn’t recognise you from the front.”

My sister does two shifts a week in Proctology.

This week I’d like you to take a good look through my Pinterest for some clothing ideas. As you know, I love my members to experiment. Have a lookand see if there’s anything there that takes your fancy. And before I leave you, I’ve a special request. Help our girlfriends at The Downtown Eastside Women‘s centre. They could use a hand. See the panel below for details.

😊

Fiona

 

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Let’s make a difference this week. We’re appealing to you to help out some friends of ours. The Downtown Eastside Women’s Centre supports vulnerable women on Vancouver’s Eastside. Mostly these are people who have fallen between the cracks of society’s safety net. We’re focusing on this charity today because it’s in a cool city, it’s a cause I know my members will fall in line with, and because the big charities have the big advertising budgets – and the small ones are often overlooked. This is a small charity, and your gift will make a huge difference. You can support this charity by going HERE and giving something, however small, to help.
Nice Legs, Shame About The Face! Wise words from the early 1980’s. The last verse is the best one. You can always enjoy the Fiona Dobson Playlist HERE.
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Fire and Furry.

I’m emailing you having just returned from the heart unit, where I am happy to relate that Bernard is in the process of recovery from his rather unfortunate incident with a carrot.  This is much to the relief of Max, who for a moment thought he may have blood (or rather carrot juice) on his hands after shooting Bernard with the aid of Sebastian’s motorcycle. If this is all a bit confusing you may be able to catch up here.

I arrived home to find Sylvester sitting at my kitchen table looking more confused than a Trump supporter who had recently learned that he’d won a months free food at Hooters, only to discover that he had to complete a skill testing question asking him to calculate the area of a square measuring 2 inches by 2 inches, before being eligible to collect his prize. I asked Sylvester what could possibly be wrong.

“It’s this business with North Korea. My dad was out there years ago, and that didn’t go so well,” said Sylvester.

Now, in case you’ve been living under a rock – which might be the safest place to be under the circumstances – then you might be unaware that people are talking about the possibility of nuclear war. At times like this one is forced to ask the big questions. ‘What’s it all for?’, and ‘Isn’t there hope for humanity?’, and ‘What does one really wear for Armageddon?’.

As I looked down at my troubled friend, I was forced to conclude that one should always look on the bright side, and dress up for the occasion. Seeing Sylvester’s legs, also brought something else to mind, and consider that this is a man who looks like a gorilla and a fridge got together and created a baby.
I am of course talking about the need to deal with body hair when one crossdresses. The need to look one’s best supersedes all other considerations as the nuclear clock ticks toward midnight. Sylvester’s legs are very hairy, and if one is to meet one’s end looking fabulous either waxing it off, or at least disguising the body hair is a great place to start.

Not all of my members are able to shave their legs. For those who discretely dress without the knowledge of their partners, suddenly appearing without leg hair may be something of a give away. One member did successfully claim that their new swimming regime required them to remove as much body hair as possible, but this isn’t going to fly for some members.

In the quest to disguise body hair the fishnet pantyhose are your friends. Better still, try a fishnet body stocking. No one should be without one, in my opinion. If you’re unable to find one locally, you can follow this link and order one on my website.

So, the question remains, faced with the unpleasant eventuality of nuclear annihilation, what would your outfit be? Personally, I think nice summer dress and some heels, pretty pink bra and panties. Feel free to let me know.

Now don’t forget, you can now join My Little Black Book for just $2.95 a month by using this link – https://gumroad.com/l/mMgcZ.  Be sure to let me know once you’ve paid and I’ll get you set up.

😊

Fiona

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Bernard goes beyond.

Hi,

Well, I’m sure you’re aware of the latest events around Bernard being shot in the chest with a carrot – if not you can catch up here – which has left us all very worried about his health.

To get you up to date, it wasn’t until several hours after he’d been carted off in the ambulance, following Max getting so upset about what he described as Sebastian and I doing yoga ‘doggy style’in my garden, that I managed to get through to the emergency department. The head nurse left me on hold as she went to see what had happened to poor Bernard.

Now, as you likely know, Bernard recently had a heart transplant following a Tazering incident, and we were all most concerned that he may have been severely hurt by the flying vegetable. Additionally, Max was getting increasingly worried about the idea that he may have committed a crime.

I had the phone in my kitchen on speaker, as Max and I waited to be transferred. I remember the moment in some detail, as I had just finished freshening my nail polish and I couldn’t very well hold the cell. Really, though, that scarlet color is simply to die for!

I asked Max to paint my toe nails, as I waited on hold. I was standing there on one leg, my other foot on a bar stool, my tight leggings showing the well defined shape of my legs, as Max painted my toes. You know, you might think me a little cruel, but I do get a little thrill from the fact that his eyes would drift up my leg from time to time. Torturing the puppies is a secret pleasure of mine!

“Is that Fiona Dobson,” came the nurses voice.

“It most certainly is,” I replied.

“Yes, Ms. Dobson. Bernard has you listed as his primary contact.”

“Of course he does!” I said, attempting to keep the frustration from my voice.

“Well, Ms. Dobson, I’m sorry to tell you this
”

At that moment Max’s hand shakily managed to paint one of my toes.

“Just a moment,” I said, then turning to Max, “for goodness sake, Max. Please be more attentive!”

I turned back to the phone, “Go on, dear,” I said.

“Yes,” she continued, “I’m sorry but I have to tell you
”

“Max!” I shouted, as he slipped once more. “Do be careful!”

The nurse continued, “I’m sorry but Bernard is no longer with us.”

There was a pause, and Max fell pale. I took the phone off speaker mode, and said to the nurse, “But 
 How?”

“He’s no longer in the emergency department,” continued the nurse. “He’s been transferred to the Intensive Care Unit, he’s scheduled for heart surgery later today.”

Now, I am sure you know I am not an unkind individual. However, I do confess I thought briefly about leaving Max in his growing sense of panic. Mentally, he was already gathering a few things and ready to head to Mexico.

I arranged to visit in the morning, and hung up the phone.

“Don’t worry, Max. Bernard’s having surgery. I’m sure he’s got a good chance of a full recovery.  It was a nasty accident, that’s all. We can go to see him in the morning.”

With that, Sebastian entered the kitchen, doing his very best to be helpful. “I feel I should come, too. After all, it was my exhaust pipe from which he was hurt. I feel a kind of karmic obligation.”

“How thoughtful you are,” I said. “Max, my nails aren’t going to paint themselves!”

“Perhaps I could take him one of my nice recordings of relaxing sounds. That’s sure to make him feel better. Fiona, what’s the most relaxing sound you can think of. Whale song? The sound of the wind through a forest?”

“I think the sound of the door closing as Amanda leaves my house following one of her visits. That always leaves me feeling better,” I said.

“I think whale song might be more relaxing,” murmured Sebastian.

With that we did our best to put our fears for Bernard to rest. Max continued to do my toe nails and we resolved to visit the hospital the following morning.

And so it was that we decided to visit the following morning, Max and Sebastian bringing both guilt and karmic balance, and I some perfectly painted nails and a rather smart pleated skirt.

I shall let you know how things went next week.

Fiona

Posted on

Max, we appreciate your service.

Before I go any further I would like to say that like my valued members I stand with all our brave people serving in the military regardless of color, gender or race. I strongly believe that anyone who has ever been exposed to the realities of conflict knows very well, we have other more important things to get on with, rather than focusing on distractions that do nothing but further the questionable agenda of one sad old man. Our servicemen protect our rights and freedoms – which is kind of the point, isn’t it?

I’ve received several emails from members of the services who are members of FionaDobson.com. All I can do is reassure them that their service is appreciated and that this will pass. Calmer heads will prevail.

Now, let me see if I can give you the short strokes to get you caught up with the exciting happenings here in Montreal. You may remember last week, Bernard, my photographer, had been shot in the chest with a nefarious carrot. Unknown to me at the time Max had pushed the offending vegetable  up Sebastians exhaust pipe after becoming agitated while watching Sebastian and I doing yoga.

As the ambulance raced off Max sidled up to me, looking the picture of guilt ridden youth, and said “Fiona, there’s something you should know.”

I bent  down and picked up the carrot and frowned.

“What on earth is a carrot doing here?” I said, as the ambulance siren faded in the distance.

“Actually, I might know something about that…” said Max, where upon he told me the whole grissly story.

“But what on earth possessed you to put it there?” I asked.

“It was seeing the two of you in the garden. Seeing you do yoga, doggy style!”

“I think you mean downward dog. Well, these leggings don’t leave much to the imagination,” I mused.

At this point Sebastian, who had been inspecting his motorcycle for damage, wandered over.

“Pretty bad luck, that. You don’t often hear of someone being carroted to death.”

Several years ago a young man I was acquainted with had a nasty incident with a squash (that’s a marrow if you’re in the UK), but I thought it better not to mention it.

“You don’t think he’ll die, do you?” Asked Max.

“He was doing a pretty good impression of it, when he was choking here in the driveway, three minutes ago,” said Sebastian. “I always told him he should eat more vegetables.”

“He’s only just recovered from a heart transplant. I think the sooner we dispose of the evidence the better. Max, why don’t you get rid of that carrot and if anybody asks, the bike just backfired,  ok?”

“Why?” Said Max, looking genuinely niaive.

“Because, Max, if the wrong people ask questions, someone might get the idea you accidently murdered poor Bernard.”

“Urgh! Murdered?” Gasped Max.

Sebastian interjected at this point, “I’m not sure you can ‘accidentally’ murder someone.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Stammered Max.

“Of course you didn’t. But anyone dumb enough to believe that Bernard was shot in the chest with a carrot is dumb enough to believe it was murder. It’s better all round just to say there was a bang and Bernard collapsed.”

I handed Max the carrot. “I suggest you feed the evidence to your rabbit.”

😊

Fiona
Posted on

Max shoved his carrot up Sebastian’s exhaust pipe!

What an extraordinary week it has been, with the most exciting things happening about the place.  But before I get into that, I will first answer a couple of quick questions from my valued members.

Yes, Ellie in Texas, when you have a costume party to celebrate your ten years NRA membership a piñata is a very suitable idea for a game, though we do not generally feel that putting ammunition in it as prizes is a very good idea. Perhaps crystal wine goblets or a decanter would be better.

Olive, in Halifax in Yorkshire, we find the best remedy is to plunge your plums in boiling water. Both Julie and I enjoy making jam, too! What a small world it is.

As we revel in a beautiful summer here in North America it’s definitely time to delve into your wardrobe and find a mini skirt. Whether it’s to do a private set of selfies, or get out in the park and brave going out in public, the summer gives us all a great excuse to expose our legs to sunshine and get a beautiful tan. You’ll find one of my very popular self hypnosis recordings that so many of you love right HERE.  Of course, in the Premium Program there’s many to help you along. If you’re already a member I hope you’re getting the most out of these. If you’re thinking about joining the Premium Program enjoy the self hypnosis filehere and see how you feel. It’s likely to harden your resolve to getting into a lovely skirt.

And speaking of hardening my resolve, Sebastian my personal trainer was over at my place just yesterday. He came over to give me a yoga class, and afterwards he gave me a very enjoyable massage. I was out in the sun, in the back garden, with Sebastian rubbing some oils into my aching muscles, when I noticed Max, my neighbours 20 year old son, watching us from his bedroom window, which overlooks my garden.

I should point out that Max has shown growing curiosity about me in recent months.  He’s not quite sure what to make of me, I think. Either way, seeing Sebastian rubbing my thighs so intimately seemed most disturbing for him. Whilst Sebastian was hard at work, as it were, Max was suffering.

Unknown to me at the time, Max was indeed so agitated that he went downstairs to his mother’s kitchen, took a large carrot, and then went out into my driveway, and pushed it right up Sebastian’s exhaust pipe! Sebastian, I should say, rides a little Honda scooter. It’s very cute. Not as big as Sylvester’schopper, of course,  but that’s another story.

Nothing good ever comes from jamming vegetables places they shouldn’t be. Believe me, I should know, my cousin works in an emergency room at the hospital. Anyway, after inserting his nefarious carrot, Max returned to his bedroom.

Sebastian was just finishing me off, (phrasing), and our yoga session was coming to a very happy ending.  It was not a minute too soon, as Bernard, my photographer, was due at my place to discuss a shoot we have next week for one of the advertising agency clients. I like to work from home, and Bernard often drops by.

I was just seeing Sebastian off, when Bernard arrived. Sebastian straddled his scooter and hit the starter, just as Bernard was walking up my driveway. There was a phut, phut, BANG!

Next thing I knew Bernard was lying on the ground gasping and clutching his heart. You may remember he had a heart transplant just about a year ago, after an unfortunate Tazering incident at O’Hare.

At first I thought the shock of the backfire had given him a heart attack. Then I saw the carrot, fallen to the ground, beside Bernard, who was by now convulsing and looking decidedly peeky.

“Hold on, Bernard,” I said as calmly as I could. “I’ll call an ambulance!”

He gurgled as first Sebastian and then Max, appearing from next door ran to him to help.

As I rushed inside Sebastian was telling Bernard that he wished he’d brought his homeopathic first aid kit. This didn’t seem to comfort Bernard, who was gurgling and coughing up blood.

I called the ambulance from the phone I’d left in my kitchen, and then hurried back to the increasingly pale form of Bernard lying in the driveway. He was reaching out in front of him, clutching at the air.

“It’s OK,” I said as calmly as I could. “The ambulance is coming.”

“I can see a light,” said Bernard, his eyes glazed over.

“Go toward the light,” said Sebastian. “Go toward the light!”

“Are you sure?” I said. “I thought you were supposed to go away from the light.”

“They’re calling me,” babbled Bernard, still clutching his chest, but fading from pale to a blue color. With that he seemed to go limp and give a final sigh.

A moment later the ambulance pulled into my driveway. The ambulance service here really is very good, and they have such very nice uniforms.

They loaded Bernard into the ambulance. Max was flapping around like an old woman, fawning over Bernard, and looking terribly distraught. As the ambulance pulled away and headed toward the hospital, I thought he was going to run and get his bicycle and follow it. Even then, I realised something was amiss.

As the ambulance siren faded Max turned to me and said, “Fiona, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Now, I’m going to tell you exactly what happened next in my next newsletter, because it really was so extraordinary. Let’s just say that the truth really does set you free, but at what price?

I hope you’re having a better weekend than we are!

😊

Fiona
THE MIXTURES : "THE PUSHBIKE SONG" (1970)
Sebastian’s Health Tip For The Week: There’s no better way to get out and about and keep in shape than on a bike.
Posted on

We’re firming up our members.

First of all, I feel I should address a matter of concern to many of my members. Angela in Arkansas asks, ‘Is it possible that White House spokesperson Sean Spicer and Sarah Huckabee Sanders are the same person? I have never seen them appear on camera together.’

I am so glad you asked me that. Naturally I am a keen commentator on political matters – my views being held in very high regard in some circles. I have several sources close to this matter and let’s just say that you’ll be seeing a lot less of ‘Sean’ in the coming months. I protect the confidentiality of my members very diligently as you know, so I am precluded from saying more. Suffice to say that Sean may be accepting himself as he is, and creating himself as he wishes. I can neither confirm or deny whether he is a member of my programs.

This weekend I have organised a barbeque for my friends. Sadly, my wife is travelling, leaving me to entertain myself. As I slipped into a new bikini and tiny pink skirt today, I found myself considering how very lucky I am.

I have such an eccclectic group of friends. Sylvester with his unusual tattoos and enormous chopper. Bernard, my photographer always wanting to expose himself. Sebastian, my personal trainer, who incidentally has just taken up pole vault. I very unusual choice of sport.

And of course, who could forget Max and Ali – still rummaging about in the arboretum looking for his hoe. This weekend I am also playing host to Katia Thornwood and Julie, who’s been hard at work (literally) stimulating new male members.

Perhaps I should explain that. We had a special promotion last week, for father’s day. This resulted in some wonderful new men joining my Little Black Book as admirers. I am thrilled to see the list of members growing and firming up all the time.

I said to Julie just the other day, “Julie, you need to take the members in hand, firm them up and make them grow!” She’s been breathlessly applying herself.

As my friends started to arrive for the barbecue and Sylvester busied himself at the grill, I joined the boys in conversation.

“But, Sebastian, darling! Why pole vaulting. It seems so… I don’t know, suggestive.”

“Not at all!” He insisted, turning his sausage on the grill. “Personally, I think it shows great self coonfidencel”

“Well, if you say so,” I said. “Mind you, it’s all a little dangerous, if you ask me. Plunging your great pole in a slot and getting up like that. It reeks of over compensation!”

“Its all about keeping it stiff,” said Sylvester, ever helpfull

Sebastian glanced at him, doubtfully.

“We’ve got pills for that,” chimed in Ali, from where he was showing Max the difference between a Chrysanthemum and Chlamydia.

Ali has been doing rather well with his English classes. One would never guess he arrived from Syria just six months ago.

 

“Sebastian ,” he called over toward the grill. “You’re obviously overcompensating, my young friend. I have some friends who can help you with that.”

I sometimes wonder what they teach him at that English class. Nonetheless, his integration seems to be coming along nicely.

I’m watching as Max tries to engage Katia in polite conversation. Now that really is the lamb attempting to lie down with the lion. I think I should go and interpose myself between them before Max ends up being served up on a skewer.

For those of you who don’t know Katia, she is a somewhat stern woman. Statuesque and beautiful, but very commanding. Her wonderful travelogue is being published on my website at http://FionaDobson.com in episodes – look for The Travelogue Of Katia Thornwood. You’ll be hearing more from her. Suffice to say that her holiday entertainments went far beyond looking at temples in Cambodia.

I hope you have a lively weekend and enjoy the summer weather. By the way, as I mentioned, we’ve had an influx of male  members (phrasing) in My Little Black Book. Now’s a great time to join, if you’re not already a member.

We have a major expansion of our website underway. My objective is that there should be something new almost daily for you to check into and occupy yourself with. Check it out and come back whenever you feel a little femme. You’ll love what I’m doing!

😊

Fiona
Imagine if some of your graduating class could see you dressed. What might they think?
Are you reading the exciting adventures of Andy in “Clothes Maketh The Man”?

Manipulated and taken advantage of by the evil Devina, Andy finds himself compromised into dressing. You’ll never believe what follows!
If you haven’t yet dived into the extraordinary serialised feminization adventure you can find it here:

Read the story – Clothes Maketh The Man https://fionadobson.com/clothes-maketh-the-man-part-1/
Not yet signed up for the Premium Program? Take your time, but when you’re ready jump in and join the fun.  You can sign up for full membership – US$ 35 a year – here: https://fionadobson.com/premium-program/
Posted on

You’ll be surprised what we squeezed in this week!

I was talking to Bernard, my photographer, earlier today. He’s been helping me select a few of our ‘Pink’ girls photo’s.
“Fiona,” he said, “I feel there’s something growing here
 developing.”
“I’m sure there is, Bernard,” I replied. He spends a lot of time looking at photographs on his computer.

“I feel a great thrust forward coming,” he went on.

“Really?” I replied.

“Oh, yes.  I think there’s more members than ever and they’re all getting so comfortable here. We’ve seen over 400 join your Little Black Book, and over 25,000 now on Tumblr. And these photographs, they’re lovely.”

I suggested he calm down and control himself, though I totally understand his enthusiasm. Today’s pictures are from girls getting ready from summer and trying to find some pink themed summer wear.
Ashley sent this delightful image. Ashley clearly puts a great deal of effort into her appearance and has a natural sense of style. Bernard tells me the secret to great studio shots is the forethought and preparation. “Given the opportunity,” he said, “I’d love to get her in and see what I could get her into. And vice versa.”
Nora brings a sporty elegence to everything she does, reflecting calm and quiet confidence. Checkout those legs and her posture. As I remarked to Sebastian, just now, “She looks like she’s prepared to get on top of almost any situation and handle it.”

Polly Maid has the perfect corset – a must have for all serious CDs. Just look at the wonderful materials and work that have gone into this sexy outfit!

Now, what do you think Polly should be polishing, now that she so rpoperly dressed for the task?

I can’t help thinking there’s a caption for this picture that just needs to be written. Do you have a suggestion for a caption for this image?

Marielle looks like she’s getting ready to leave that bedroom in a hurry. I think we’ve all been there once or twice.

Got a great caption idea? Email me and I’ll see if we can get it into an upcoming email.
Now, I have to run out and help Sebastian, my personal trainer. He’s preparing his sailing boat. He has a little Albacore – a lovely 16 foot sailing boat. However, at the start of the season he has to get his mast properly installed. He always has difficulty getting it up. I think it’s because he gets too excited. Next thing you know he’s out of breath and all self conscious. It’s very frustrating for him.

This week I’m looking for more photos from all my gurls who want to show how much they love nylons. If you have a great pic that you’d like to send – for use in my email or on the website, I’ll see what I can do to squeeze it in. As Bernard said to me just the other day, it’s surprising what we can squeeze in if we give it a try!

Have a wonderful weekend.

🙂

Fiona
Are you reading the exciting adventures of Andy in “Clothes Maketh The Man”?

Manipulated and taken advantage of by the evil Devina, Andy finds himself compromised into dressing. You’ll never believe what follows!
If you haven’t yet dived into the extraordinary serialised feminization adventure you can find it here:

Read the story – Clothes Maketh The Man