A fun task now that spring is here.

I was trying to explain to Rainbow that she was mistaken about Australia having been annexed by Germany in 1938, when her brother Sebastian arrived to join me before breakfast for a yoga class. I do enjoy the early morning yoga classes. Having a personal trainer so committed to my body is something I feel great gratitude for.

Sebastian is a wonderful trainer. How can I best describe his teaching style? I suppose it’s best to call it ‘deeply penetrative’.

I poured a glass of orange juice for each of us, before we started the class. Now, you may remember that Rainbow is studying to be a therapist. When I had suggested to her that therapy might be a good option for her, I had meant participation, rather than training, but she had grasped the wrong end of the stick, and here we are.

“We’ve been learning about Freud,” she told me. “I’m fascinated by Australia.”

I was confused.

“You know,” she said. “Where the marsupials come from.”

Gradually I realised she’d confused Austria with Australia. I thought I should explain a little about European history and things went down hill from there. When she pointed out that Europeans were so much more cultured than those of us here in North America I took issue with her. That was the point that she started on about how Leonardo was so multitalented, with the whole painting, mathematics and engineering, and making all those films, too! Apparently she loved Titanic.

Rainbow has recently started dating Epiphany. While her heart may have swelled the same can’t be said for her intellect, I fear.

But that’s not the main reason I am writing. As spring rushes in and we prepare for summer I have a fun task for you. It’s thrift store time. Yes, it’s time to go out and scan the thrift stores for something fun to wear. But this time I’d like you to do it a little differently. I’d like you to try and buy something that is fairly androgynous. Feminine, but just safe enough for you to wear around without being obviously crossdressing. Yes, this is part of your gradual move to a more androgynous look. Pastel colors, a little feminine but not so very much that you feel uncomfortable around people you know. Push your boundaries, but not too far.

Have fun out there, and remember, ‘recycle, reuse and reduce’. You’ll be doing your bit to save the planet.

🙂

Fiona

PS. Enjoy the song below.  If you’re a member of my Behind The Scenes group you’ll know why this is a special one for me.

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A bit of luck and a nice package!

When I got an urgent call this morning asking me to stand in as Master of Ceremonies for a charity event, I was caught short completely. It was really quite tragic, their own MC having met with an unusual accident involving a hamster, a length of pipe and a lighter.  I’m told they should be out of hospital in a week or so, though the hamster was less fortunate. The situation was made doubly dramatic as I had just sent several of my favorite dresses to the dry cleaners as I have a string of events to attend in the coming weeks, and I had nothing to wear. However, as luck would have it I received a delivery when I got to work directly from my friends at Glamour Boutique.

What a stroke of fortune, a beautiful purple lace sleeve dress delivered in their usual discrete packaging.  Now, there’s a number of excellent reasons you should buy from a supplier like Glamour Boutique, rather than off the shelf.  I will go into that shortly, but first, let me tell you exactly how this evening played out.

I called Sylvester who, while he does look like a gorilla that has been strategically shaved when he wears a suit, can be quite fun at these events. He agreed to join me at home at Huckleberry Close and we would then go on from there.

He pulled into my drive right behind me as I arrived home from work, and then waited in the living room as I hurried upstairs to change. As I did so I called down, saying “You’ll have to give me a moment to slip into something.”

I pulled on some fishnets, slipped into a pair of patent leather black heels, and then stepped into the dress. A moment spent on make up, and then I descended the stairs.  Sylvester was gawping at me as I walked into the hallway.

I turned and inspected myself in the full length mirror, Sylvester looming behind me like a great henge.

I watched his reflection as I adjusted my hair, and saw how his gaze fell to my behind, framed nicely by the cut of this particular dress.

“Yes,” he muttered. “Slipping into that seems a good idea…”

“Sylvester,” I said sharply and he averted his gaze.  He really can be most coarse at times.

Moments later we were off to the event, Sylvester driving and I feeling quite excited. A new dress always makes me feel coquettish. Particularly this one. The lace sleeves are so perfect for crossdressers, as they hide a multitude of sins, such as unsightly arm hair. Additionally, the cut of this particular dress is perfect for so many of us. The Empire waist really is a good choice for those of us in the gender fluid space. Most of us don’t have a very pronounced waist, but this style really does lend us a little more shape.

I’ve said before that buying from a company like Glamour Boutique is a good idea. These dresses are synthetic and almost impossible to crease. This is important to me as there are times I have to fling something in a bag without much preparation, and I may not be able to hang it as precisely as a silk or cotton dress might need. Wearing creased clothing is always awkward and a sign of very poor taste. This comfortably sized synthetic dress fits easily to the curves of my body, while still giving a little in those areas I need it to. The fabric has enough stretch to work for a male body shape, and for those of us who occasionally like to add a few body form accessories.  After all, don’t we all have moments where adding a little extra presence to our bust measurement can be done to good effect?

Well made crossdressing dresses will work with or without such accessories, and stretch to accommodate either option. This is why I generally go with clothing from Glamour Boutique, rather than from local stores. I know I will get clothes specifically chosen to be good for a crossdresser, rather than something that might look great in the store but really doesn’t work so well in front of the mirror at home while Sylvester stares at my ass.

And on the subject of my ass, I have to tell you I love this empire waist.  It’s not usually my first choice of dress shape, but it really does work well. Coupled with a high heel the effect is to give just the right flare to the dress, as my ass is slightly exaggerated by the cut of the dress combined with a nice heel. The effect is a dress that has a nice swing to it, looks smooth and well fitted and is really comfortable to wear. So, you can see, I was pretty happy to get to the event, stand up in front of the crowd and enjoy a moment in the spotlight looking great.

I know you will have the same sense of satisfaction if you get in touch with my friends at Glamour Boutique.  Be sure to tell them I sent you.

Fiona

Auntie Kittie is riding ‘the cycle of abuse’.

Sylvester looked skeptically at the newspaper. He is one of the holdouts that do still read the physical paper, and his heavy knotted brow was twisted in concentration. His Neanderthal roots were showing.

“Did you see this?” he asked, while I was grinding the coffee.

“What’s that, Sylvester. The picture of Auntie Kittie’s niece in the Girl Scouts?” I replied.

“I don’t think that would make the pages of the New York Times,” he replied.

“Oh, I thought you were reading the local paper. Auntie Kittie’s niece Emma was in it. She got another badge. I think it was for fire starting, or gender awareness. Something like that.”

“She’s very proud of those girls,” said Sylvester. “But no. It’s this story. It says here that they’re making children have babies in Texas.”

“I hope the Girl Scouts down there are giving them a badge for teenage pregnancy,” I muttered.

“It’s this whole abortion issue,” he continued. “I can’t believe this is happening in the 21st century.”

“I can’t understand why anyone with either a daughter, a sister or a mother could possibly accept giving up the right to an abortion,” I said. “It’s like the whole world has gone mad.”

At that very moment I spied Auntie Kittie cycling up the road toward my house.

Sylvester glanced round and seeing her said, “Here she comes. She’s riding ‘the cycle of abuse’.”

“Why do you call her bicycle that,” I asked.

“Have you heard how it squeaks? She never oils it,” replied Sylvester, who is indeed of a mechanical bent.  He went on to say, “The last time that thing was lubricated they were still using whale oil.”

“Well,” I said taken aback. “I don’t think that’s a very nice way to talk about Auntie Kittie, Sylvester!”

You know Sylvester really can be quite coarse at times.

On a serious note, just keep in mind anyone who is aligning themselves with the denial of a woman’s right to choose, will be coming for us, too. It starts to make political decisions very simple. Whatever your past voting pattern, don’t be fooled into thinking this is your grand dad’s political environment. There’s already trans people out there fighting for their lives and loosing. Just ask Brianna Ghey or Nex Benedict.

I do hope you’re having a good week.  I am taking the time to catch up on a few things having been away for a little in Europe. A little what, you may well ask.  I won’t be answering that anytime soon! Let’s just say my body is feeling particularly tired, and like Auntie Kittie’s bicycle could indeed use a little lubrication.

🙂

Fiona.

PS. Don’t forget you can follow Auntie Kittie‘s misadventures by becoming a Good Gurl today, if you’re not already in that wonderful group.

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Max is teabagging Sebastian in my basement!

I arrived home on Saturday morning to a house full of guests. Max, my next door neighbours 20 year old son, had let himself in as he often does these days, Sebastian had arrived early for my yoga session, and as I walked into the kitchen, there was Sylvester clutching a twelve incher in his hand.

“That looks very meaty,” I said as Sylvester stood there looking proud.

“You know how much I love a good sub,” replied Sylvester. “Salami, tomato, olives… this is twelve inches of perfection.

If I had a quarter for every time I’d heard that, I thought quietly to myself. Actually, I’d only have a dollar twenty five, but all the same…

I slipped into a light skirt and a tee shirt, to be ready for yoga, and then asked Sylvester if he’d like to join Sebastian and I on the yoga mats. I should say that it’s rather like watching a fridge try to do a downward dog, when Sylvester does yoga. The will is there, though.

“Where on earth are Max and Sebastian,” I asked Sylvester wondering if perhaps Max would be joining us on the yoga mats.

“Max is teabagging in the basement,” said Sylvester.

“Really,” I said a little surprised.

“Yes. I had no idea Max knew so much about tea. He’s showing Sebastian how to mix a few different tea types and make a few tea bags. He has some black tea, oil of bergamot, vanilla and all sorts of things.”

“Oh,” I said, somewhat relieved. “How creative. We should see if they want to do yoga with us.”

However, that’s not the main reason I am writing to you. I’m sure that you have experienced, the same as many of us, feelings of embarrassment following dressing. Well, you’ll be pleased to know you don’t need to. In the video above I have prepared a short hypnosis for you that will help relieve those feelings. Have a listen and see how you get along.

Have a great week, and remember – “Accept yourself as you are, and create yourself as you you desire.”

🙂

Fiona

 
 

You won’t believe what came across my desk!

I was a little late into my office this morning. I washed my hair after a particularly strenuous yoga workout this morning, and I simply had to let it dry before coming to the office.   I have a delightful black blouse on, and a black and white skirt. Very Kate Spade. The cool weather demands some nice stockings, too.

As you know, I prefer to work from home, but do show up to the office now and then.  This is mostly to annoy Brenda in the human resources department, but you know, one has to show willing. By the way, have you read ‘Getting To No – Telling Clients and co-workers to sod off without offending them’? It’s an interesting look at the modern workplace and something that is becoming required reading in some business groups and gender studies groups. That sounds really boring, but give it a try.

I wandered into the office a little after 11, and to my surprise was met by an unfamiliar voice saying, “Hello, big boy.”

I froze and immediately checked my reflection in the full length mirror I insisted the facilities boys install in my office. That was when I noticed the parrot sitting on my desk.

At that very moment Sylvester entered my office behind me and said, “I see you’ve met Captain.”

I can only assume Sylvester had dropped by to annoy the girls in accounting. He really can be quite coarse, you know.

“You have a parrot?” I said.

“I inherited him,” replied Sylvester. “He’s a macaw.”

“Well, I don’t appreciate being misgendered first thing in the morning,” I said and sat down at my desk. “Who did you inherit him from?”

“My uncle,” said Sylvester as he put out his arm and the brightly colored creature stepped up on the outstretched limb and then languidly sidled up to Sylvester’s shoulder.

“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had an uncle. Or that he died.”

“Oh, it was a while back. I didn’t really know him very well. He left me a few hundred dollars,” explained Sylvester.

“And a parrot?” I asked.

“Well, sort of. Captain’s been passed around since my uncle died. He’s been to practically everyone in the family, and now it’s my turn. I think I’m going to hang on to him,” said Sylvester, stroking the bird under his chin.

“Show us your tits,” said Captain. “Show us your tits.”

“I think I see the problem,” I said. “Perhaps you should close my door. I’m not sure the staff share Captain’s permissive conversation style.”

“My uncle was a doctor,” said Sylvester by way of explanation as he closed the door.

“I see.  You know how old Captain is?” I asked.

“Not really,” said Sylvester.

“Do you have any idea how long parrots live?” I pressed on.

“No. It’s not really something I’ve looked into.”

I looked at Sylvester skeptically. However, on the desk before me was a catalogue of products which I have to examine for the advertising agency. We are pitching for a new account and the first step is to thoroughly understand their product line. And that brings me to the reason for this email.

I am often asked to help members who feel they are unable to dress, because their spouse is not entirely on board with the whole ‘crossdressing thing’. Many times I remind them that the best approach is not to inform their significant other that, ‘darling it doesn’t matter what you do, I just look better in your panties than you do!’

To totally suppress these desires doesn’t work very well. And furtive dressing sessions can be very unfulfilling. A more successful approach is to gently introduce the shift toward a more feminine approach. And that’s what I am going to talk about today.

There are many ways to dress in a more androgynous way, without completely going over to crossdress in public. A good start is to reconsider colors. Hard contrasty colors are very masculine. Hard blacks and reds are quire aggressive. Instead, selecting a softer palette of pastel colors where possible is a wonderful first step. A pastel blue or lemon sweater or shirt can be quite femme looking.

Something else to give some thought to is the fabrics that you wear.  I prefer lambswool or angora to cottons or nylons when it comes to sweaters. I avoid brand names and always wear soft colors. It telegraphs my own softness and sensitivities. It’s also perfectly acceptable in most office environments. And keep in mind, a touch of lipstick or putting on heels and you’re crossdressing if you choose to go that far. Super femme.

When it comes to jeans, if I’m out sanding my boat, or helping Sylvester get to grips with his half shaft, I’m wearing the 501’s. But when I’m casually dressing I always go for a femme cut pair of jeans, preferably with a bit of stretch. Mavi is a good place to start with this.

So, without going full on femme, this will help and even if you’re unable to dress as much as you’d like, this gives you a more androgynous look without overtly crossdressing. You can learn much more about this in my Premium Program. I have some other wonderful ideas for when you’re unable to dress as you wish in there under the title “The Empresses New Clothes”.

Now, I am going to have to go and get ready for some work – well, lunch at any rate – and I have to get this obscene creature out of my office. I should eject the parrot, too.

Have a wonderful week,

Fiona.

PS. Surrounded by energy stealing assholes? Crank up the volume and listen to the video below. Then come and join my Patreon for as little as $1. https://www.patreon.com/fionadobsonCD

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My hand on your flies.

My good friend Sylvester was looking very concerned.

“I really think I ought to get my junk out,” he said, sounding very distracted.

“Well,” I replied. “If you must!”

“I mean, some of these lures are very old. They’re junk really,” said Sylvester.

We were standing around a table in the greenhouse, in my garden. The smell of ripening tomatoes filled the summer evening air.  On the table was a neat little pine box, containing some beautiful lures which Sylvester has made, as he is such a keen fisherman.

I inspected his flies, and I must say it did make me think I should keep my hand in. You may not think this to look at me, but I really do love outdoor sports, including hunting and fishing. I find the gentle rhythm of fly fishing very calming. Helping Sylvester sort out his fly fishing lures, and discarding those that are damaged or ineffective, is a periodic task I help my friend with.

I shall be writing before the end of the week. Now, let me help Sylvester sort out his flies. I’m sure he’ll appreciate my attention.

Fiona

Sylvester slammed his tackle roughly in from behind!

As perhaps you know I am enjoying a little time away from the hard weather and have slipped of to the Baja, in Mexico. Such a delightful place. However, you can imagine the surprise when I received an excited phone call from Ali, my gardener.

“You should have seen it, Miss Fiona. Sylvester slammed his tackle roughly in from behind. I’ve not seen anything like it!”

As you’ve likely guessed, Ali has discovered ice hockey. Well, it had to happen. You can’t be in Canada for very long without being affected by this the national sport.

“It was wonderful,” said Ali. “He’s been on the game for some years, I hear.”

“I think you mean, ‘he’s been on the team’, Ali,” I corrected him. I really do worry about Ali’s English at times. I really must speak to his teacher.

Ali went on to tell me that Sebastian’s been going out with a new girl and is very taken with her. Apparently she’s very pretty but she has a squint. Unfortunately she’s unable to see him any more. Poor Sebastian.

I do like to keep up with the news at home as you can tell, but that’s not the main reason I’m writing. I thought I’d share some news with you.  I have added a new $1 level to my Patreon page. This allows you to penetrate just a little deeper without going to the full expense of the other programs.  I realise there are many things out there at present competing for your attention, and at such a difficult time it’s sometimes a little hard to justify the expense of a full program like the Premium Program for some of us. It’s important to me to be available to all my members, so I talked to Max about this and asked for his ideas.

He said, “You need to give people a different option. Some way to have a relationship without too much expense. You need some kind of ‘Back Door’. So, with this in mind I am inviting you to join my Patreon and use my ‘back door’ for just $1 a month. I think you’re going to like it. It’s exclusively on Patreon. Join here – https://www.patreon.com/fionadobsonCD

🙂

Fiona

Become a member!

PS. Just click any of the hotlinked names in the post to get more stories about that particular person. It’s a fun way to learn about my friends.

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There’s thrush in Marjorie’s bush.

I was a little surprised to see Ali in my garden this morning, spying over the fence in Marjorie’s direction, looking through an enormous pair of binoculars.  Now, you’ll remember Marjorie is Amanda’s lover.

It’s very cold at this time of year and much of the wildlife of the garden retreats into the foliage where it’s warmer. Ali takes a keen interest in such things.

I quietly crept up beside Ali and tried to see what he was looking at so intently.

“What on earth are you looking at, Ali?” I asked quietly, pulling my robe tightly around my body.

“It’s Marjorie’s pussy,” he whispered back.

A moment later Marjorie’s back door swung out and she came striding across the garden towards us, her impressive physique sailing toward us like a battle ship with sixteen inch guns primed and being brought to bare directly at Ali.

“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, arms crossed across her thinly veiled breasts and looking like thunder.

“I was watching your pussy,” said Ali.

Thinking I’d better diffuse the situation before the chill air exposed any of us further I invited Marjorie in for a cup of tea, and Ali joined us in the kitchen.

“I don’t much like being spied upon,” said Marjorie, as I poured the tea.  At that very moment Sylvester arrived and joined us in the kitchen. He placed hi enormous mug on the table beside our delicate tea cups, and smiled expectantly.

Ali piped up, “I’m not spying on you.  I was just checking out your pussy.” I do wonder about Ali’s language skills at times.

Sylvester smiled, and I shot him a glance hoping he’d get the message to behave.

Ali continued, “it was about to get the thrush.”

Marjorie looked livid.

“I’ve noticed they’ve been getting into your bush in this cool weather,” he added not helping himself very much.

I managed to calm Marjorie down, and assured her Ali meant no disrespect. It’s so easy to offend when dealing with such sensitivities. I suppose I have learned to be more careful in my language recently. Especially with all the talk about pronouns we hear these days. I do find that the best approach is to try and be as sensitive to others needs as possible. After all, in the end we are all just trying to get along as nicely and with as much kindness as possible. I do feel that is the approach that brings the best in good taste to our friendships and our relationships.

Indeed, I was feeling rather pleased with myself as we all enjoyed some Danish pastries and a lovely cup of tea and chatted. You’ll probably appreciate that this is one of my great skills. Bringing calm where there was agitation and disruption, before I arrived.

As I walked Marjorie to the back door when it was time to go she smiled at me and squeezed my hand.

“I’m sorry if I’m over sensitive, Fiona,” she said.

“Oh, don’t be so silly,” I said. I added, “Besides, it’s nearly spring – I can hardly wait to see your tits in the garden myself,” and closed the door behind her.

Have a lovely week.

Fiona

My knob is terribly stiff!

“This knob is very stiff,” I said to Sylvester, as I relaxed in the seat.

Oh, I should explain, he’s been installing a new sound system in my car.

“I can loosen it a little,” said Sylvester, “but you don’t want it so loose that someone ends up jerking it off. You wouldn’t want that.”

“Speak for yourself,” I replied.

However, that’s not the reason I’m writing to you. Mildred, from Colorado Springs writes:

“Fiona, I’d like to be reminded of you every morning when I have my first cup of coffee of the day. And I’d also like to discretely show my support for trans people and those of us that are of a gender non-conforming bent. What can you do to help?

Love from Mildred, Colorado Springs.

PS. Why do I get so much mail that starts out “Dear Sir or Madam’? Is there something I should know?”

OK. One thing at a time.

Yes, of course I have something to help you first thing in the morning. And a discrete way to show your support to all our members and friends. I was in a conversation with Sebastian about this just yesterday. I can see him in my minds eye right now, sitting on my right hand after we’d finished yoga, while I enjoyed a soothing cup of Earl Grey Tea.

“Those nice boys and girls at Patreon can help you. They can make a cup and give it to any member who joins as a Unicorn and stays on for three months,” he told me while pulling his yoga pants back on.

“That’s a curiously random piece of information to have,” I replied.

It’s true, though. If you join my Patreon as a Unicorn after three months you will receive this lovely mug, complete with the image here. This will be recognizable to anyone interested in gender issues, though won’t really mean much to anyone else. I’m told it’s really a good idea. It is also a great conversation starter.

Keep in in this is my first venture into the world of ‘Merch’. It all sounds so very sordid. Anyway, Max will oversee the tech side of it. He’s recovered from the last flogging he had. I think that was for something to do with us being kicked off Tumblr. Again! Either way I will see it’s done well.

So, pound my button as hard as you can and sign up as a Unicorn Member and in three months you’ll get a cool cup to help you enjoy me every morning. Wait. That’s not what I meant.

🙂

Fiona.

Become a Patron!

When you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go.

Sylvester informs me that should I ever be caught in an avalanche, I should make a point of peeing myself, so I can figure out which way the gravity takes the pee, and then I will know which way is up, and which down.  As you know, Canada has been having some quite hard weather recently, and such pieces of information are very helpful to know.  However, I do have a problem with this.

First of all, I don’t think I’ll need any reminding to piss myself if I’m caught in an avalanche. I really don’t! Second, I’m not sure knowing which way is up is going to make a great deal of difference if I’m under a hundred tons of snow at the time.

Sylvester tells me there was one man who was caught in an avalanche in his car, and drank 48 beers while he was trapped in his vehicle which had been rolled over and buried under the snow. He arrived home later covered in urine and told his wife the whole story. Frankly I think he probably made the whole thing up. It sounds to me like a pretty good Friday night out after work at the advertising agency.

I am currently working on a very interesting report for the advertising agency called “Understanding Women Who Love to Feminize Their Men. The Dobson Report.” This will soon be available to my Seahorse members.  For those who join my Patreon at the $1 a month level I will make it available as well just for the next 6 weeks.  I should be complete with that report in about a week. So, there’s a great reason for you to either join my seahorse level, or my Patreon if you haven’t already done so.  In the meantime I want to thank all my Good Gurls, and my Seahorse, Unicorn and Premium Members. I couldn’t do what I do without your support.

And speaking of support, I have recently shelled out for a new phone for Auntie Kittie. She has one those fancy phones that are tethered to the wall to prevent them being stolen. She asked me to buy her a new one because something called ‘the rotary dial’ broke on hers. It all sounds far too technical for me.

Have a lovely week.

Fiona.

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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

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

Join as a Good Gurl for 4.99 a month.

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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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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Have you seen the Christmas flasher?

Preparations for Christmas festivities are creating an air of expectation and excitement around Huckleberry Close this morning, and I couldn’t help noticing that next door people seemed to be stopping by at my neighbor, Marjory’s house looking at the rather imposing Christmas decorations in front of her house. A truly excited sense of seasonal cheer has developed in our little community.

The children have had their last day of school, and inspite of the unseasonably warm weather they are playing in the street and throwing snowballs at one another and laughing. Indeed the festivities this morning spilled over in a rather unusual incident worth recalling. It all started with Auntie Kittie rolling into my kitchen at 9 am, a little bleary eyed, looking for coffee and advice.

“Fiona,” she said a little groggily.  “I think I may be experiencing hallucinations.”

I did my best to calm her down, as she sat looking worried.

“I swear that Santa Claus in Marjory’s garden just flashed me,” she groaned as she shakily took the coffee I offered her.

Continue reading “Have you seen the Christmas flasher?”

I’ve laid the table, now what’s next?

I really do enjoy having a few friends over in the evening. So it was that I found myself, just the other day, hosting a small party with Sylvester, Auntie Kittie, Sebastian, Rainbow and her new friend, Epiphany. Just use those links if you’d like to explore a little more detail of each of these great friends.

I’d prepared a small variety of dishes. You know how it is when you are taking into account the various dietary needs of people, I’m sure. When I had asked Epiphany what sort of foods she enjoyed she had informed me that she ‘preferred not to feast on the flesh of murdered animals.’

Epiphany is a very slight girl. I am sure she’ll become Rainbow’s lover. She has very small hands.

As Sylvester was listening to Rainbow talking about a flasher who has been frightening people in a local park, I put out the tofu drizzled with a peanut satay sauce.

“He was about average height and had a big coat. And I think he was right handed,” said Rainbow who didn’t seem the slightest concerned that she’d been exposed to in such a manner, when out for her evening run.

“How exciting,” I said. “And with all this cold weather, too!”

Epiphany and Rainbow, both choosing not to eat meat, were extolling the virtues of a vegetarian diet.

“I have often thought I should become vegetarian,” I said. “Though I really do enjoy seafood.”

Sylvester decided to chime in and added, “Fiona does love a winkle in cider now and then.”

I told Sylvester to shut up, you know he really can be quite coarse at times.

At this point Auntie Kittie chimed in that she thought everybody loves a well prepared bird on the table, “and honestly, girls, who doesn’t love a good stuffing?”

I gave Sylvester a sharp kick under the table as I saw his mouth open, but before he could make some crude comment. He muttered something about everyone loving a good sausage.

It’s such a good thing I always prepare a variety delights for my guests. I served the various dishes but not before suggesting to my assembled guests that they should be sure to leave a little room for desert. What a surprise it was for them when, after I cleared away the main course Auntie emerged from the kitchen and whipped out her dumplings covered in cream!

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you today. I am trying to build up my Patreon following. It’s an up hill struggle, but the more members I can grow there, the more content I can release. Your support is greatly appreciated, especially in these tough times. In case you don’t know you can support me there by subscribing for as little as $5, or if you choose to become one of my Unicorn level members you can get one of my famous ‘You want me to use which bathroom’ mugs. Who could resist such an offering!

Have a lovely evening,

Fiona

PS. Enjoy the video with Annie Lennox, Hugh Laurie and John Malkovich below.

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Help! There’s a bunch of fascists at my Thanksgiving Dinner!

I hope you’re ready for the thanksgiving celebrations, where we turn to look at one another and count our blessings. A time when every self respecting crossdresser looks about at their closest family and wonders “Oh my god! Who the hell are these people!”

Yes, many of my members have said to me that this is one of the most challenging times of year for them. It ranks right along with Christmas, when friends and family wear their bad taste sweaters and we can barely find the time or space to slip into a nice pair of frilly panties or a simple skirt and blouse.

And, of course, there’s the family get together. That joyful time when our distant relatives become our nearest and not so dearest, reminding us that there’s a reason we don’t invite Uncle Billy Bob and his revolting offspring to visit every other weekend of the year. As they pull up, parking in the bike lane outside the apartment, in their Dodge Asshole Wagon, complete with confederate flag licence plate, we are can only reflect that it is sometimes our differences that make us strong. And that as they unload their arsenal of concealed carry weaponry, it sometimes isn’t.

As Sylvester told me just the other day, “My brother in law arrived, and I said to him to make himself at home.”

“Well, that’s very courteous of you, Sylvester. Well done,” I replied. I like to encourage any evidence of humanity in Sylvester.

He went on to say that his brother said, ‘I always do. Wherever I hang my hat is home!’”

His brother in law then took off his MAGA hat, hung it on the spare room door and went on to spend most of the weekend banging Sylvester’s long suffering sister while poor Sylvester ended up baby sitting their three revolting children. The weekend was only brought to a hurried close when one of their neighbours called to tell him that their landlord was loading their belongings onto a truck and they were being evicted.

Worried that he might have taken the whole ‘make yourself at home’ thing a little too literally, Sylvester waited till they’d hurriedly rushed home four hours away, and then packed his own place up, locked it securely, turned off his cell phone and went on an extended four day fishing trip with Bernard.

As much as we do love our families, many of us feel we don’t need to expose them to this particular side of our nature. As such, and I know this is hard, we sometimes have to smile and bite our tongue as we listen to their insane rhetoric and political views, and quietly remind ourselves, ‘it’s only once or twice a year.’ There are some arguments that there is no point engaging in.

In all seriousness, I do urge you as we go into this Thanksgiving holiday, when a family member bursts forth with some offensive views, ask yourself, ‘Is this an argument I can possibly win? Will Uncle Billy Bob really turn round later and say, ‘Gee, you know you’re right!’. If the answer is ‘no’, then I suggest you to learn the words that every good husband learns at some point in a marriage:

“You’re probably right, dear.”

One can learn to say those treasured words in such a way that everyone else around the Thanksgiving table knows damned well that what you’re really saying is, “You’re an uninformed bigoted idiot and you’re wrong”. We save our energy for the battles that can be won. They are more often subtle, the evidence of our own kindness, and the way we lead by example, allowing our sensitive more loving nature to lead our actions. We are, after all, the living proof of our worthiness.

So, how does one strike back? One does so quietly, with grace and calm. One way is to make sure you vote in all elections for people that share your values. Obviously today I am speaking mainly to my US audience, but these words are equally true wherever you are. For US members, understanding that many of the values presented by the Republican party are resulting in our sisters being targeted and abused is something we simply cannot ignore. While we may not change much by getting in an argument with Uncle Billy Bob, we can use our vote to instigate wider change.

Another way to help is, if you’re feeling strongly about these issues, back a politician who is making a difference for our community with a donation, even if it’s only a few dollars. I am not generally a fan of politicians, but these are trying times. I can wholeheartedly recommend Zooey Zephyr, who is doing great work in Montana. Even if you don’t live in Montana, helping Zooey is a good way to move our agenda forward. If we can make headway there, we will encourage people to come forward elsewhere.

And finally, if all else fails, you can become a member with me and support my work. I say that as, in my own small way, I do my best to be supportive to the trans community and many of my crossdressing members who cannot openly show themselves, by providing supportive content. I’m currently trying to rebuild my Patreon base, so even joining as a Good Gurl for just $5 goes a long way to delivering quality supportive material to your sisters.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and know that as one of my members, I give thanks for you.

Below is some good advice from Natalie Wynn, Contrapoints. Have a wonderful weekend.

Fiona

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I think Sylvester took that whole ‘dance as if no one is watching’ thing a little too seriously.

I am sure you know, I work at an advertising agency. More accurately, I attend. Fortunately the partners seem to enjoy having me around.

As luck would have it I was invited to a party being thrown by one of the partner’s wives, and against my better judgement decided to bring Sylvester as my plus one. I should have realised this was a bad idea, but all the same Sylvester lurched his way into the beach front condo and mingled with the various guests. I knew a few of those invited, but to be honest I think I was only invited to bump the numbers up a little.

Across the room Sylvester quaffed his beer heartily and started in on another bawdy story to the poor man he was cornering.

“So, this priest, a hooker and a dwarf go into a bar,” said Sylvester. I decided to withdraw to the other side of the room. You know, Sylvester can be really quite coarse at times.

Instead I reluctantly listened to one of the guests walking me through her organic method of vaginal hygiene, and asking me if I thought it might have commercial potential. This is an occupational hazard when one is in marketing. One has to look interested and nod a great deal.

Chantelle, the partner’s wife, eventually collared me and to my surprise told me that they were so pleased I’d brought Sylvester, still talking to the pale looking man he’d cornered earlier.

“Really,” I said, quite puzzled. “Sylvester is a little,” and here I searched for words, “…a little fundamental for most polite company.”

“It’s so good to see someone getting on so well with my brother,” said Chantelle. “He finds it so hard to connect with people since he was ordained.”

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing today.

I thought I’d just remind you how very well received some of my hypnosis MP3’s have been. You can see a few HERE. Be sure to check them out. By using them in the evenings before you go to sleep you can enjoy the effect of hypnosis. Let me know how you get along.

🙂

Fiona

Become a member!

A little something to help you through the daily grind.

“You know,” I said to Sylvester as he got ready with some lube, “I feel I need to give my gurls a little bit of a hand from time to time.”

Sylvester looked up at me, applying the shiny liquid to his shaft.

“You’re so thoughtful, Fiona.”

You will remember that Sylvester is a mechanic. He’s restoring an old engine at present. He knows the value of making sure all the parts are well lubricated.

“Are you sure it’s going to fit,” I asked as he slid the shaft into a tight fitting sleeve.

“You’d be amazed what a good amount of lubrication can do,” he said concentrating on the job in hand.

The shaft slid home with a satisfying metallic sigh.

“Goodness,” I said with a slight gasp. “You’re really very good at this.”

“Yes,” he said with a look of studied concentration. “Lubrication is the key to so many things.”

“You know you’re right!” I replied. “I just feel I want to help my members feel a sense of satisfaction. So many of them put up with so much.”

It was as I thought about this that I decided to post a few pictures that might elevate your mood. You know, if you’re on this site then I am like a sister to you. And any good sister would be prepared to bend over backwards to help you feel good about yourself.

Do you think I should bend over backwards for you? Well, register and see what I have as you slip inside the website. You know the deeper and deeper you go into it the more satisfying it can be. Come on. Register here, and go really deep. Just the way I like it.

🙂

Fiona

PS – be sure to sign up for one of my programs to experience the deep satisfaction we both crave.

Getting Astride Sylvester’s Boner.

What a creative group of people I surround myself with, I thought to myself as I sat on Sylvester’s boner. It was shaking this way and that, the vibrations rising up through my body in a very unsettling manner.

Sylvester’s workshop has all manner of strange things in it. He is quite the amateur inventor. He’d called me earlier that day, excited about his new development. Naturally, I hurried over to his workshop to see what the fuss was all about.

As I arrived Bernard, my photographer, was pulling up.

“He want’s me to photograph it,” he said as we entered the workshop. “Say’s it’s an historical moment.”

As we arrived Sylvester stood beside a large cube shaped object. I thought it might be a washing machine, though it was covered with a sheet. Suddenly, with a great flourish, Sylvester swept away the sheet revealing a strange device with the words “The Boner” skillfully painted over the front of it.

“Let me demonstrate my new invention,” he said, clearly expecting our excitement to match his.

I clutched my hands before me, teetered to and fro on my heels, and said, “How exciting!”

With that Sylvester brought a small basket of frozen chickens, probably about five, and emptied them into the chamber in the centre of the cube. He then released a valve and I could hear water filling the chamber and see steam rising.

Bernard started snapping off pictures, and I began to smell chicken cooking as Sylvester closed the chamber. There were spurting sounds, and something that looked like a cappuccino machine released steam from the side of the contraption. In a few moments a bell ran, and chicken broth was pumped from a pipe at the foot of the machine.

Then the device started vibrating and shaking, and a burst of super heated steam was released. It looked ok for a moment and then I noticed the look of panic on Sylvester’s face.

“Quick, Fiona, climb on the Boner. You sit on it while I get out my tool.”

“Sylvester…” I said uncertainly. “I’m not sure about this.” It seemed to be shaking and rattling quite dangerously.

“Climb on it or it may shake itself to destruction.” Sylvester was reaching into one of the colorful tool chests, trying to find his special tool.

I carefully climbed on to the Boner, the shaking going through my whole body. As I sat there I thought it was going to explode, and I must say my breath was quite taken away.

And then, quite suddenly Sylvester was there, between my legs with his tool. He jerked it this way and that and before long the shaking began to subside. At last there was a gurgling sound and a hatch popped open revealing two draws. Sylvester opened one, and brought out some perfectly cooked chicken meat. The smell filled the workshop with a delicious aroma.

From the second draw he drew out a tray containing all the chicken bones, completely cleaned of meat.

“It’s perfect,” he cried out. “Every bone has been extracted and the meat remains undamaged.”

“Goodness,” I said, feeling quite out of breath. “What a remarkable invention. I can imagine everyone will want a Boner.”

Sylvester said, “Imagine, a Boner in every kitchen!”

Bernard chimed in “People will be asking what on earth they did before they had a Boner!”

“Imagine, if you could find a way to extract the dark meat,” I said.

“I should think that would make it much bigger,” mused Sylvester. “Do you think there’d be a market for such a thing? It would be a much larger and more powerful Boner.”

“I can’t see that being a bad thing,” I replied.

So you can see it’s been a very eventful few days. Have a wonderful weekend!

🙂

Fiona

When was the last time you played around? Dressed? That’s got to be a good one for Playtime With Fiona! My good friend and member of our Whatapp Group, Daphanie, loves to play a round of golf fully dressed.  What’s your secret pleasure?

 

Don’t forget, I’ve got many free videos for you on Youtube.

Did you know?

When you sign up for my Premium Program, you get a series of exercises, as well as the self hypnosis and educational information for Julie and myself, that’s sure to make all your crossdressing activities way more fun. One recent member wrote: “Your program changed my life))) especially the initial encounter with the man who is now my bf)) thank you!!!”

Whether you want to just occasionally slip on some panties, or whether you’d like to pass, my Premium Program prepares you psychologically, physically and educationally for all you need to know. You can sign up today for just $14.99 a month. Join the many members who are finding more acceptance and happiness in this wonderful part of their life.

Become a member!