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Fiona Dobson's Crossdressing Blog.
Accept yourself as you are – create yourself as you desire.
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The awful truth about the nefarious vegetable emerges.
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Max shoved a carrot up Max’s exhaust pipe!
Hi,
This morning, just as I was emerging from my morning yoga session, I was surprised to see Max (my neighbourâs son), huffing and puffing and coming in my rear entrance, a bundle of excited youthful anticipation. He was hurrying up the garden path, as I pulled up my yoga pants, and adjusted my hair.
Sebastian, my personal trainer, was as surprised as I was myself. He likes to come early to stretch me, as Iâm sure my regular members are aware.
âFiona,â said Max, bursting into my kitchen. âCan I take a look at your beaver?â
As you probably know, today is Canada Day. Itâs a tradition in Huckleberry Close, to come over to my house on Canada Day, and look at my beaver – a beautiful piece of taxidermy – the centrepiece of the Canada Day party I always throw on the Canada Day Weekend, to celebrate us throwing off the shackles of oppressive colonialism before Canada declared itself free of tyrannical rule from London. Actually, thatâs not really true. We just all sort of agreed that weâd have a new flag and continue to be the friends we’ve always been. No one was being either tyrannical or oppressive, but itâs a good excuse for a party. And the centre piece of the party is my beaver, a stuffed animal that has become something of a mascot over the years. Itâs traditional for us to enjoy some lovely Canadian Wines, from British Columbia (a place that is neither British nor Columbian), swap hockey stories and talk about Zamboniâs while apologizing to one another. We all eat poutine and make fun of people we love from Newfoundland, and generally act in an understated but quietly superior way, while listening to The Tragically Hip, 54 40, Five Man Electrical Band, Rush and many other great Canadian bands.
I told Max, âDarling, calm down. My beaver is open to everyone, just give me a moment to prepare it! Youâll get your turn. Just donât get too excited. Itâs Canada Day, youâll have to pace yourself.â
We have so many wonderful traditions in Canada. Being Canadian means so many wonderful things to all the peoples of our country. We love our diversity, our first nations people and our democracy, which we value enough to protect.
If Max gets over excited, of course, it will be over before itâs really started. It can happen to us all. I handed him a pot of maple syrup and suggested he put it out on the garden table while I went down to get the noble beast, and then he could examine my beaver to his hearts content.
This yearâs wine of choice is Quill, a distinctive Rose from Vancouver Island, which is quite delightful and goes rather well with the short skirt Iâm wearing. Itâs light, a little cheeky and subtly stimulating. The wineâs not bad either. I know weâll be toasting Sylvester, who has decided to commit to a course learning to drive a Zamboni at the local hockey arena. I must get things ready for the party shortly, so this will be a short email.
It may come as a surprise to some of you, but Marjory (my delightful lesbian neighbor) got her hand stuck in my beaver recently while trying to replace some of the stuffing. She was wedged right in there! I know what youâre thinking, what was she of all people doing, jammed up there? Well, she does fancy herself as something of an amateur taxidermist. Strange woman. Sheâs from Alaska, you know. Eventually we got her hand out, but ever since sheâs been acting most strangely. Sheâs said on more than one occasion that she wishes her hands were a little smaller. I canât think why! Itâs almost as though sheâs never heard of lube. I understand it softens the skin nicely and taxidermists swear by it.
I hurried down to the basement and found my beaver, then carried it up to my garden table, already bathed in warm summer sunshine. In the sunlight I could see it has begun to look a little tired. I suppose one can not be surprised. After all, my beaver has been fingered by many over the passing years. And yet, surprisingly it continues to put a contented smile on many of my friends faces. However, I do believe a beaver should be well groomed and well presented. I will speak to my local taxidermist and have him restuff it later this month.
With this in mind I resolved to make a Canada Day offer to all my friends and members. Anyone who emails me with the words in the subject line âFiona, Iâll stuff your beaver!â before the end of Canada Day weekend, July 3rd, can have a free membership to My Little Black Book. This is worth $2.95 a month for crossdressing gurls, and $4.95 a month to Admirers. So, get your digits moving and I can help get some more members in there.
Have a wonderful Canada day weekend.
😊
Fiona
At last, the weekend. It was very busy this week at the advertising agency, and Max, my next door neighbors 19 year old son, joined me to ‘job shadow’. He’s been following me around (no change there!) to see what I get up to and see if perhaps after he finishes college he should consider a career in the world of advertising.
Unfortunately, he chose to job shadow the week we are moving offices. All the same he made himself very useful, his muscly arms being put to good use helping pack up my office. I have some lovely plants in the office, and made sure they were all packed nicely in a big chest, so they would survive the move.
âWould you like me to drill your box?â Asked Max, as I was stretching over the desk, reaching to unplug a phone.
âI’m sorry?â I said, a little perplexed. Max has always had what might be described as a healthy curiosity about my body, but this seemed uncharacteristically forward.
âDrill your box? Holes,â he said.
I looked very puzzled at him.
âYou know, so the plants get more air.â
I realised he was talking about the big box I was using to move the plants. Better air flow would indeed help them.
âMax, you are such a good boy. You go right ahead and drill what ever you need to,â I told him.
That, however is not the main reason I decided to send this message. I decided to send a quick note to tell you about a great BBC radio broadcast I think you may enjoy. It’s an investigation into the idea of gender. I think you may find it every bit as fascinating as I did. It touches on the idea of gender not only being more complex but actually completely fluid.
You can listen to it here: Do We Have Enough Genders? http://bbc.in/23v0LRz
Let me know what you think of it.
Fiona
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What a wonderful day to remember our lovers and our past lovers. On a lovely day like this such thoughts are top of mind.
I have always taken a keen interest in medical and biological research. For example, when in 2010 UCLA researchers announced that they had proof that Neanderthals mated with homo sapiens it came as no surprise to me. But then it wouldnât. As anyone who has met Sylvester, my mechanic, would realise, the evidence has always been there right before our eyes.Â
But thatâs not the main reason Iâm writing today. Itâs Valentineâs Day, and the time we celebrate our relationships. Max, my neighbors son, attempted to deliver a Valentine card secretly, but was picked up on my security cameras. He has no idea I know it was from him. Poor boy is only a breath over twenty years old. Iâll probably have some fun with that.
Sadly my wife is travelling at present. However, although I may have to battle the sadness of solitude and isolation, I wouldnât want my members to suffer. With this in mind you might be interested in checking out My Little Black Book. Itâs a pretty cool system, in which you contact three people a day until you build up a network of crossdressing friends and admirers. Anyway, you can read all about it here. Itâs one of the benefits in my Unicorn Tier on Patreon, though you can by it as a stand alone product for as little as $2.95 if you wish.
So, sign up for My Little Black Book today and you can be sure youâll not die alone, as Sylvester put it. Quite a few members have formed long and meaningful relationships in My Little Black Book. If youâd like to connect with other crossdressers itâs a great way to do so.
Have a lovely Valentineâs Day.
😊
Fiona
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Now, I know what youâre thinking. Itâs true though, eight inches is my torso measurement. You know, most of us are completely unaware of what our true measurements are. However, because I simply have to get a new corset I need to measure myself correctly.
You know, it can be wonderful fun to have a friend measure you. I always suggest having someone you enjoy being with come and help. With this in mind I called Sylvester to get him to come over to help me. Unfortunately he was busy. Honestly, heâs a slave to his business. Heâs never happier than when heâs got his hands on someoneâs exhaust pipe.
Sebastian is out climbing this weekend. Heâs going up the Devilâs Danglers he tells me. They are a challenging climb, I understand, but itâs remarkable what Sebastian can get up when he puts his mind to it.
I would have asked Amanda or Marjory to help with the measurements, but this is Marjoryâs busy season in the competitive eating circuit. Sheâs apparently excelling in the sausage category this year, which is surprisingly ironic considering the blossoming of her relationship with Amanda.
Now, as you know, my next door neighbors son Max has at times been a little jealous of Sebastian, my personal trainer, when he comes over and helps me with yoga. Max has been noticed spying on us from his upstairs window while Iâm getting my downward dog on in the garden. Well, in the interests of humanity I felt I simply had to ask Max to come over and help me measure myself properly for a new corset. I felt this might help ease his tension a little.
I stood in the kitchen as Max placed the measuring tape first under my breasts, to get an accurate underbust measurement, and then standing behind me he wrapped the tape around at my waist. Now, this is very important. Getting these measurements is essential to get just the right fit in a corset. You may want to take notes.
âMax,â I said as his breath quickened. âI feel size is very important. Be sure to get it just right.â
Next he placed his strong young hands on my hips as I stretched, and measured very carefully. FInally he took my torso measurement. This is most important. This is from the underbust point to the hip crease of when you are sitting in Maxâs lap. Poor boy was struggling quite hard at this point. I think all this measuring was wearing poor Max out. He seemed very red faced and was breathing heavily.
âAnd now the final part, Max,â I said. âWe have to decide if my belly is âsoft and squishyâ or âleanâ. What do you think?â
I placed his hand on my belly.
âItâs sort of firm,â he said.
âYes, and I expect you are too!â
And the final thing you need to have a note of when ordering a corset is your height. Itâs most important to let your corsetier know. I had found a delightful denim corset from https://glamorouscorset.com/ which was perfect to wear either with a pair of nice jeans, or a nice skirt. Itâs so good to find truly versatile clothes. You can see the one I chose here: https://glamorouscorset.com/product-category/material/denim/ I chose this one specifically because I knew I could rely on the product quality coming from Glamorouscorset.com and also the stylish look that Iâd be able to make good use of year round.
These are important details, because a corset can do so much for your look. While thereâs a range of price points with corset manufacturers, like most things, itâs wise not to go down market. A good corset can serve for years when well looked after and really grows to your needs. Donât just go for the cheapest supplier you can find â look for quality and sound reputation. I knew I was on solid ground with glamorouscorset.com .
Sure enough a few days later I received a package from my friends there. The first thing I noticed was the beautiful presentation of the corset. It comes in a presentation bag that suggests this is a product of quality. My friends included a detailed handbook about care for the corset and how to season it. These things are very important as the investment in effort pays off as you continue to use their product. I was particularly impressed by the attention to detail that had been made. On inspection the corset was perfect. Iâve bought corsets before and Iâve had them hand made. This corset was without doubt one of the nicest and best fitting Iâve ever had. I look forward to years of service with it.
Now, Max is looking forward to years of service too, I think. I suppose I should ask him to help me put it on sometime. Teasing the puppies can be such fun!
If youâre interested in getting into a great corset I have a special surprise for you. If you use this code â FIONA15 – you will get a special discount from GlamorousCorset.com Be sure to have a good look around their website. Itâs very comprehensive and youâll quickly realise that your dealing with a company that is proud of doing the job right. Send them proper measurements as Iâve described above, and be sure to mention I sent you!
Have a wonderful week.
😊
Fiona
Hi,
The sun is blazing down on my garden, and I can hear Ali moving about in the distance, his hand tools musically clinking as he cleans up the flower beds. He has recently declared a Jihad on the weeds in the north border.
As he arrived this afternoon in his Smartcar, equipped with the rifle rack that Sylvester gave him, re-purposed to carry his rakes and spades, I was dancing – in my kitchen to the sounds of my childhood –https://youtu.be/v16CwfkppeI â getting carried away in my own little world. I had put together a big pitcher of sangria, a nice zinfandel with pineapple chunks and oranges, for myself, Ali while he worked, Max who was climbing a tree and trying to get to my pussy (don’t ask), and Bernard who will be over later this afternoon with some proofs from our latest photoshoot.
My garden is one of my favorite places in the summer. It’s a hive of activity. I still don’t know exactly what Max is doing climbing that tree, though. Shirtless and tanned he is, well, an entertaining diversion. He’s trying so hard, but I don’t think he’s ever going to get my pussy. All the same it’s fun to watch.
The summer here in Vancouver is in full swing, and I am thrilled to say that we’re welcoming new members to my Premium Program all the time. I have been thrilled to see so many new members recently, it quite takes my breath away. I’ve also been getting a lot of mail â my inbox has been quite literally pounded with interesting mail. I do enjoy a good pounding!
So, I thought I’d include a couple of things in today’s message. One is something I am constantly asked about. Breasts. Yes, always something we like to give our attention. But, if you don’t want to go on a hormone therapy treatment, what can you do to stimulate a little breast growth? I am so glad you asked!
There’s a few soy drinks out there, including ‘So Good’, that are quite rich in phytoestrogens that mimic the female hormone estrogen. If you drink a moderate amount daily you will experience a small increase in breast size. Women have known of this trick for years, and can lift their breast size by one or two cup sizes quite easily. So can you. If you’re not in North America (and I have members from all over the globe now) then finding another milk like soy drink will likely have the same effect.
Gosh, you learn some useful things from me! You can also use one of my breast enlargement self-hypnosis files here: https://youtu.be/15v1usMJAXg Self hypnosis for breast enlargement has been around since the sixties, and is well documented to be successful. I have many gurls who have experienced great results with this.
Have fun, and enjoy your weekend.
đ
Fiona
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So many of my members go through their lives suppressing this part of themselves. And yet in many ways it’s the most creative part of them.
Is it any wonder that they are frustrated and tired. So, to brighten your day, I have put together the Fiona Dobson playlist. Young Max helped me, fine young man, leaning over me from behind as worked on my laptop. We selected some songs, and I think he found some of them quite moving.
Breathlessly he said, “these are some great hits, we should get them out and give them an airing.”
“Music really is the best way to lift someone’s mood,” I said enjoying the selection.
“Oh yes,” he replied. “This will get them swinging.”
Young Max is such a puppy. Of course, he doesn’t remember when it was all vinyl. You might find this hard to believe, but I’ve had my hands on a huge number of 7 inchers over the years!
Enjoy the playlist below whenever you need to lift your mood. I add to it regularly.
Fiona
Join as a Good Gurl today!
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Hi,
I have been treating myself to a few enjoyable gifts to myself lately. Victoriaâs Secret, and one or two other places have been benefiting from my self indulgence.
On Wednesday, this week I asked Max, my neighbours twenty-year old son, to come with me to a lingerie store. This was admittedly partly to tease him, and partly to teach him a little lesson. Heâs been hanging around a lot lately, and seems to spend way too much time at my place. When I am doing yoga he seems to get extremely agitated. When I am working up a sweat he seems unable to stop watching at me.
âMax,â I said to him, âsometimes I donât know whatâs got into you. You spend so much time over here! You might as well help me with some shopping.â
I drove down to the lingerie store with him, and explained, âThings have been so hard lately,â as I smoothed down the skirt I was wearing.
âDonât you ever feel like,â I searched for words, ââŠsplashing out on some new underwear?â
Max seemed quite overcome by the thought. He carried my bags back to my car once I had bought some new items of hosiery.
Once at home, I took out several boxes of my underwear and asked him to help me sort them into colors and fold them nicely. He seemed very happily engaged in this task when there came a knock on the door downstairs. I asked him to go down and see who it could be.
Max took himself off and some minutes later, when he didnât return I glanced out of the window to see him clutching at his stomach and heaving into a flowerbed in my garden. This wasnât going to help the petunias. After all his efforts to keep them looking full and flowery, Ali, my gardener was not going to like that at all.
I opened the window of my bedroom and called down, âMax, are you all right?â
In reply he pointed toward the kitchen and called back âAmanda,â And then staggered off toward the gate to his parentâs house.
I groaned inwardly. Amanda, my wifeâs obnoxious friend, had obviously slipped through the perimeter defences. I decided to go downstairs and see what the unbearable woman wanted. I slipped into pair of gender neutral yoga pants and descended the stairs.
âI donât know whatâs wrong with that boy,â Amanda blurted out as I entered the kitchen. Apparently she had got away from work editing Pig and Pig Farmer Weekly a little early today.
âWhat did you do to the poor lamb, Amanda?â
âI just asked him to help me with something. You see, Iâm taking some pain medication for my back. Anyway Iâm supposed to,â and at this point she lowered her voice, âuse these.â She pulled a package from her sac like handbag.
âAnd what are these,â I asked not wishing to get too close.
âSuppositories,â she relied, and my stomach turned over.
âAnd you wanted Max to help you with them?â
âYes, of course,â she replied in a matter of fact voice. âTheyâre supposed to bring my temperature down. Itâs a side effect of the medication, you see.â
âYou donât think thatâs a little odd?â I said, my mind reeling as I stared at the pack on my kitchen counter.
âIs that even a thing?â I made a note to Google suppositories and temperature.
âYou donât understand,â she stammered as though suddenly realising sheâd made a horrendous mistake.
âAmanda, I really donât think you can ask young Max toâŠâ
âItâs the packaging. I canât get it out of the blister pack,â she protested.
âThere are some things, Amanda, you just canât ask people to do!â
âI canât open the packaging, itâs my fingers. Not with my arthritis!â she protested.
âAll the same,â I said doubtfully. âI think you may have scarred Max permanently. He looks pretty traumatised.â
âOh, my goodness,â she gasped. âYou donât think he thought I wanted him toâŠâ Amanda looked horrified.
âYes, I do, Amanda. I think you may have left a very damaging and lasting impression on his fragile young mind.â
However, all this is not the main reason I am writing to you this evening. Weâve got some great new content on the website here: http://FionaDobson.com and Iâd love to see your comments and questions about it. Go right ahead and make comments on the site, and Iâm thrilled to answer them.
Have a great week and remember not to let your temperature get too high.
Fiona
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.
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.
Have a lovely week,
đ
Fiona
This summer it’s all about pink! |
It’s a season for your best color! |
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 |
Yes, I know. It seems incredible. However, it is true. The iconic serial about poor Andy, a man who stumbles from disaster to crossdressing disaster, all the time under the tender gaze of Davina, is now available free.
I was just getting ready to go out this afternoon, when a very distraught Max came and pleaded with me. I had my favorite heels on, and Hannibal was staring at me looking forward to his walk.
“You can’t make it all free,” protested Max, who has been handling our site rebuild.
“But my members love Andrea, and Davina,” I said. “We can’t just take it offline.”
“I don’t think I can separate it out,” he said pouring over some code. “At least not in a way that’s going to be easy to work with.”
“Then we’ll give it to our members free,” I said, and applied a little more lipstick. I have a spectacular crimson shade on today.
Enjoy the very best in crossdressing stories. There’s a new episode of Clothes Maketh The Man out later this week. Maybe Andrea is going to get a lucky break. Or not. Be sure to enjoy it when I post it later this week, free.
Fiona
The other morning I walked into my kitchen and immediately knew something was wrong. I should explain that my morning yoga is a sacred time for me, and I let nothing interrupt it. Iâm only ready to start the day once I feel grounded and settled.
I usually follow my morning yoga with some tea, and a piece of toast, so I was surprised to find a deputation of some of my team waiting for me as I entered the kitchen.
Max, Katia and Mistress Meg fell silent as I entered. I glanced at them, and walked over to the kettle and put it on. To say the atmosphere was tense was an understatement.
âWell,â I said. âWhat are you all looking so worried about? Has someone died?â
Max, who was backed up against the wall looking a little scared, was the first to speak.
âMeg wants to hang me up by myâŠâ he faltered.
Then Mistress Meg cut in, âI want to hang him by his wrists and have Stacy give him a damned good strapping.â
Katia just looked angry.
âWhat on earthâs going on,â I asked. âMax, tell me whatâs the matter.â
Now, perhaps you remember that Max is my neighbourâs twenty year old son, and looks after much of the technology side of the work I do. Thereâs a surprising amount of work running the blog. He also manages my Patreon and a few other things, including entering Auntie Kittieâs content. Heâs our tame techie.
âItâs Patreon,â he said and everyone fell silent.
âOh yes. They recently named me as one of their top adult writing creators, didnât they?â
âYes, theyâve done very well from your Patrons. Youâd think theyâŠâ
âTell her what theyâve done, Max. Stop blabbering,â said Meg.
Max, who by now was close to tears, turned to Mistress Meg and said, âYouâre not the boss of me! Iâm just doing my best. You canât tell me what to do!â
Mistress Meg picked up a breadknife, rubbed her thumb against the blade and then said menacingly, âOdd choice of last words, Max.â
âI think perhaps we should all calm down,â I said gently. âNow, Max letâs sit in my study and see whatâs the matter.â
I took Max through to my study, usually my sanctuary away from others, and sat him down on the couch. His eyes were brimming over, and a tear ran down his cheek.
âItâs ok, Max. Just tell me what the trouble is.â
âWeâve been kicked off Patreon. They say our content is too adult.â
âWhat? Make up tips and hypnosis?â I said looking a little shocked. âOr was it that joke you said I should take out?â
âYou mean the one about stuttering?â
âYes, where I said that jokes about speech impediments were a big big âno noâ?â
âNo,â he replied. âI pulled that out before we posted that piece. Itâs more Mistress Meg and Katiaâs content. They say itâs too adult and they donât want it on their servers. But thatâs not the worst of it.â
âReally? What else is there?â
âWe have hundreds of members there. And theyâre not going to be happy. And Mistress Meg and Katia depend on the revenue from there,â he said clearly upset. âIâve let them down. And I think Mistress Meg might want to do something horrible to me.â
âMistress Meg does horrible tings to people all the time. Itâs sort of her thing,â I said softly. âI wonât let her do anything to you, donât you worry. She just want’s to look after the Seahorses.â
âI didnât mean to get us kicked. Really. I thought we were ok, but theyâve just clamped down.â
âDonât worry, Max,â I said soothingly. âWeâll take care of Patreon. If we have to be off it then Iâm sure our members will understand. We got along just fine without Patreon before, remember? Weâll just have to accommodate the members on the website.â
I thought about it for a moment and then said to Max, âMistress Meg is just concerned because her writing is more edgy. She probably thinks it really her fault. None of this is anyoneâs fault. Patreon are just trying to be careful.â
Max looked a little awkward for a moment and then added, âWell, thereâs more to it than that. I was thinking of saying we should get off it anyway. Some people feel itâs a bit of a scam. You should see the review of it.â
âWell, if thatâs the case then we should get off it anyway. Theyâve done us a favor. I want the best for my members,â I said.
Max stared into he distance and then said, âI can build a membership system on the site. We can ask Patrons to switch over. That way you can chat to them when they visit the site, using that chat window you use some evenings.â
âI love chatting with them,â I said. âNow, Iâd better go and calm down Meg and Katia. Donât you worry about a thing. Itâs not your fault.â
And with that I left and went out to the kitchen. It didnât take long to calm down Meg and Katia.
âWeâre just going to build a membership system on the blog instead,â I told them. âBesides that way we can service them much better. Patreon has never been that great. I know people canât find half the content you write, because their navigation is so outdated.â
Katia cut in, âYouâre right. Someone wrote to me the other day saying they couldnât navigate properly in their app. Half the time it doesnât work properly.â
âNow, letâs not be unkind to Max. Heâs going to have our website updated in a few days with a bunch more content for our members and weâll let everyone know exactly how to switch over to our website,â I said. âBesides, it gives us an opportunity to do more on the website itself, rather than someone elseâs platform. We can do even more cool things for our members.â
And thatâs why Iâm writing to you today. This has given us the great opportunity to improve the way we serve up content. Itâs also a heads up that Clothes Maketh The Man is soon going to be served entirely free. You probably know that the first 24 episodes are currently free, but that subsequent episodes have only been available on Patreon. Well, Iâll be making them freely available on FionaDobson.com in the next couple of days.
Now, if youâre a Patron youâll need to subscribe to one of the services here to continue your membership â and I want you to know how very much I appreciate each of you that does so. And if youâd just like to support the work my little team and I do then you can simply join for $1 a month in my Good Gurls membership here. You know how very much I appreciate each and every one of my members, and over the years weâve overcome hurdles like this plenty of times.
If youâd like to tell Patreon what you think of their decision to throw us off their platform, donât let me stop you. You can email them here: platform-support+id1217903@patreon.zendesk.com – It wonât change their decision but it might remind them that theyâre a bunch of homophobic self righteous dicks.
Donât worry. This isnât going to stop us delivering the very best crossdressing content, just as I always have. Now, I have to hide the cooking sherry. I can see Auntie Kittie coming up the drive, and if I donât sheâll be here all night.
Have a lovely week.
😊
Fiona
What a strange time it’s been. Today in Vancouver we have the strangest light, as smoke from forest fires up and down the west coast fills the air. Visibility here is really quite terrible.
With Covid, and forest fires one can only think that a plague of frogs might be next. It does leave one wondering why more people don’t take climate change seriously. It’s going to get hotter and drier in the coming years, and if we don’t want this every summer we might as well get used to reducing carbon emissions.
Sylvester, my mechanic friend, swung by earlier, and told me how his week’s been going. Not much better than mine I think.
âIt took three of use, heaving and panting and sweating to get my erection up,â said Sylvester, my mechanic, sitting at my kitchen table and sipping tea from my finest bone china. Like many of my best friends he just appears in my kitchen sometimes. Like a big sweaty mechanic genie.
âIâm sure it did,â I said sympathetically. âNow, just tell me again, this âerectionâ, what is that again?â