Preparations for Christmas festivities are creating an air of expectation and excitement around Huckleberry Close this morning, and I couldnât help noticing that next door people seemed to be stopping by at my neighbor, Marjoryâs 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.
âFiona,â she said a little groggily. âI think I may be experiencing hallucinations.â
I did my best to calm her down, as she sat looking worried.
âI swear that Santa Claus in Marjoryâs garden just flashed me,â she groaned as she shakily took the coffee I offered her.
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.
Iâd prepared a small variety of dishes. You know how it is when you are taking into account the various dietary needs of people, Iâm 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.â
Epiphany is a very slight girl. I am sure sheâll become Rainbowâs 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.
âHe was about average height and had a big coat. And I think he was right handed,â said Rainbow who didnât seem the slightest concerned that sheâd been exposed to in such a manner, when out for her evening run.
âHow exciting,â I said. âAnd with all this cold weather, too!â
Epiphany and Rainbow, both choosing not to eat meat, were extolling the virtues of a vegetarian diet.
âI have often thought I should become vegetarian,â I said. âThough I really do enjoy seafood.â
Sylvester decided to chime in and added, âFiona does love a winkle in cider now and then.â
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, âand honestly, girls, who doesnât love a good stuffing?â
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.
Itâs 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 thatâs not the main reason Iâm 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 donât 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 âYou want me to use which bathroomâ 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.
I hope youâre 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 âOh my god! Who the hell are these people!â
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, thereâs the family get together. That joyful time when our distant relatives become our nearest and not so dearest, reminding us that thereâs a reason we donât 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 isnât.
As Sylvester told me just the other day, âMy brother in law arrived, and I said to him to make himself at home.â
âWell, thatâs very courteous of you, Sylvester. Well done,â I replied. I like to encourage any evidence of humanity in Sylvester.
He went on to say that his brother said, âI always do. Wherever I hang my hat is home!ââ
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 Sylvesterâs 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 âmake yourself at homeâ thing a little too literally, Sylvester waited till theyâd 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 donât 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, âitâs only once or twice a year.â 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, âIs this an argument I can possibly win? Will Uncle Billy Bob really turn round later and say, âGee, you know youâre right!â. If the answer is ânoâ, then I suggest you to learn the words that every good husband learns at some point in a marriage:
âYouâre probably right, dear.â
One can learn to say those treasured words in such a way that everyone else around the Thanksgiving table knows damned well that what youâre really saying is, âYouâre an uninformed bigoted idiot and youâre wrongâ. 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 youâre feeling strongly about these issues, back a politician who is making a difference for our community with a donation, even if itâs 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 donât 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. Iâm 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.
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 partnerâs 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.
âSo, this priest, a hooker and a dwarf go into a bar,â 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 partnerâs wife, eventually collared me and to my surprise told me that they were so pleased Iâd brought Sylvester, still talking to the pale looking man heâd cornered earlier.
âReally,â I said, quite puzzled. âSylvester is a little,â and here I searched for words, ââŠa little fundamental for most polite company.â
âItâs so good to see someone getting on so well with my brother,â said Chantelle. âHe finds it so hard to connect with people since he was ordained.â
But thatâs not the main reason Iâm writing today.
I thought Iâd just remind you how very well received some of my hypnosis MP3âs 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.
What a creative group of people I surround myself with, I thought to myself as I sat on Sylvesterâs boner. It was shaking this way and that, the vibrations rising up through my body in a very unsettling manner.
Sylvesterâs workshop has all manner of strange things in it. He is quite the amateur inventor. Heâd 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.
âHe wantâs me to photograph it,â he said as we entered the workshop. âSayâs itâs an historical moment.â
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 âThe Bonerâ skillfully painted over the front of it.
âLet me demonstrate my new invention,â he said, clearly expecting our excitement to match his.
I clutched my hands before me, teetered to and fro on my heels, and said, âHow exciting!â
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.
âQuick, Fiona, climb on the Boner. You sit on it while I get out my tool.â
âSylvesterâŠâ I said uncertainly. âIâm not sure about this.â It seemed to be shaking and rattling quite dangerously.
âClimb on it or it may shake itself to destruction.â 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.
âItâs perfect,â he cried out. âEvery bone has been extracted and the meat remains undamaged.â
âGoodness,â I said, feeling quite out of breath. âWhat a remarkable invention. I can imagine everyone will want a Boner.â
Sylvester said, “Imagine, a Boner in every kitchen!”
Bernard chimed in âPeople will be asking what on earth they did before they had a Boner!â
âImagine, if you could find a way to extract the dark meat,â I said.
âI should think that would make it much bigger,â mused Sylvester. âDo you think thereâd be a market for such a thing? It would be a much larger and more powerful Boner.â
âI canât see that being a bad thing,â I replied.
So you can see itâs been a very eventful few days. Have a wonderful weekend!
đ
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?
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Don’t forget, I’ve got many free videos for you on Youtube.
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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.
As summer gently shimmys toward the exit door, and fall gets in the queue to get into the club of the passing year, weâre slowly seeing the weather change. Even Auntie Kittie has started wearing a sweater now and then, a matter of considerable relief to Max, who types up her material.
Auntie Kittie is often surprised how quickly Max gets it up.
âMax is such a dear,â she said the other day. âIâm so grateful heâs so good at putting it in. Heâs so thorough.â and then added as an after thought,â⊠and so quick.â
The poor 20 year old lamb goes the color of a beetroot when heâs embarrassed, and Auntie Kittie will say such things in front of Sylvester and Mistress Meg. And it was Sylvester and Meg who were sitting at my kitchen table this very morning. Sylvester was telling us how in these troubled times we should all be finding ways to lift our spirits. Instead of worrying about the Corona Virus we should be reaching deeply within ourselves and fostering our creativity. Meg was a little skeptical.
Iâve been doing that very thing myself. Iâve been doing a little embroidery, making some of my jeans look a little more feminine by adding a few little designs. Itâs really very simple and gives even the most masculine of trousers a nice feminine touch. If youâd like to change your favorite dungarees from the farm yard, or even the ones you wear when cleaning out the slag from the iron foundry this will do just the trick. Even your most stylish denim pants can be personalised and uplifted â and we could all use a personalised uplifting of our denim clad butts, Iâm sure youâll agree.
I leaned over the kitchen table and turned to Sylvester and said, âWhat do you think of this?â
Sylvester looked at my jeans as I did so, and said, âThatâs really very impressive. I think I should enter you.â
âSylvester, IâŠâ but before I could speak he went on, as Meg looked on, arms folded and unimpressed.
âI should enter you in the embroidery competition. Itâs part of the end of summer cultural fair at the recreation center.â
âOh, really I donât think so,â I said. âMost of the people entering are really rather older than I am. Theyâre quite a conservative lot. Iâm really not sure what theyâd make of me. I can imagine it would be like that poor South African athlete who they didnât believe was a woman.â
Sexy jeans – just add heels.
Sylvester looked a little doubtful. âNo, I donât think it would be like that.â
Anyway thatâs what Iâm doing. Sylvester tells me heâs working on a book. The Complete Idiotâs Guide To Being A Complete Idiot. A catchy title.
âAre you writing it or reading it?â muttered Meg, ever the acerbic wit.
It turns out that half the people in this competition Iâm now entered in are young arts students. I thought theyâd all be doddery old buffers like Auntie Kittieâs father, whoâs staying with her rather than going into a care home. These days that seems a rather good idea. The old fellow is about 150 years old and sits smiling looking into the far horizon. He seems a kindly old fellow, though the dementia is quite complete and he has little idea of whatâs going on. He seems cheerful, though.
I said to Auntie Kittie, the other day when I was round there, âHe looks like heâs fondly remembering the things he used to do when he was a young man.â
She frowned and agreed.
âYes, youâre probably right. Heâs remembering flying aeroplanes and bombing Germany. Heâs always been a belligerent old bugger.â
Well, itâs been a lovely week already. Here in Canada we have just celebrated Thanksgiving.
Amanda, who hails from the Midwest and is the esteemed editor of Pig And Pig Farmer Weekly, recently asked Sylvester why we celebrate Thanksgiving at a different time to our dear friends to the south, in the US. Sylvester cryptically replied, âThatâs one of those climate change things, Amanda,â which appeared to satisfy her.
I have to draw attention to a slight correction on the website, where some confusion arose among readers. As you know people ask my advice for all kinds of things. When Mildred, from Colorado Springs recently enquired about how to help her niece house train her new puppy, naturally I replied on the site with what I felt was very good advice.
âPick the puppy up, and take it around the house, saying ânoâ at each location, before carefully putting it down on a piece of old newspaper.â
A surprising number of readers thought I meant shoot it through the head. Well, itâs an understandable mistake.
To compensate I am offering those members who mentioned this a booklet I have prepared on how to remove animal blood stains from curtains and soft furnishings.
But thatâs not the main reason Iâm writing to you tonight. I thought I might mention to you a rather sweet gesture made by one of the ladies who are members of my feminization program for wives. You can find it here. What a thoughtful sweetheart she is.
Be sure to join my Patreon to show your support for my programs HERE.
Iâm so sorry Iâve not been available much this week. Iâve just got back from a brief expedition with Bernard my photographer. He had me out in his boat this week. What a salty little sea dog he is, whipping out his equipment at the least expected moment. He likes to do a little wildlife photography on the water.
For those of you who read my messages regularly, youâll know that my wifeâs childhood friend Amanda, is something of an unfortunately regular visitor to my house in Huckleberry Close. My wife, who is regrettably travelling at present in Bulgaria, or Belgravia⊠or was it Bolivia, insists I treat Amanda with kindness.
âIf you love me,â she said before leaving last time, âyouâll be nice to Amanda.â
I understand that doesnât include pretending not to be home when Amanda visits, telling her the party is at an obscure address in Poughkeepsie, or creating fake profiles with her picture on Grinder. So, I have to watch my step. All that said, when I arrived home the other day only to put down my bags and hear a knocking on the door I was surprised to see a very upset Amanda on the doorstep, swathed in her usual tweed.
Seeing she was clearly upset I invited her in.
âWhat on earth is the matter, darling,â I asked as I poured her a large glass of wine, and an appletini for myself.
For those of you who wish to learn more about the various people in my life, just drill down using the hotlinks in these emails. I usually put a link to all the tags mentioning them early in the email, so itâs not hard to learn more about any given person. Amanda appears a great deal, as does Sylvester and Sebastian. Youâll find itâs quite a rich world of personalities and situations.
Amanda, as you possibly know, is the editor of Pig and Pig Farmer. This pillar of the journalistic establishment has been described as the fourteenth most influential publication in the sphere of Pig and Pork production monthly periodicals. As you can imagine, this makes Amanda quite an influential voice in the world of pork.
âItâs work,â she said. âI just feel so⊠so⊠so overlooked.â
âWhy on earth is that,â I asked.
âItâs these bloody men! Theyâve passed me over once more. I was hoping to be made group editor this year. I just feel I have so much more to offer,â she said between sobs. âAnd now they made Jed Richardson group editor and heâs barely been with the company three years.â
âDonât worry,â I said trying to hug her and keep socially distanced. To do so Iâd have to be an orangutan, I suppose, but I tried to show some human kindness. I know what youâre thinking. I give too much of myself to others â I know. Well, itâs just who I am, I suppose.
âI know it must seem terribly unfair,â I said. âThese things happen. Donât worry. Perhaps heâll have an unfortunate accident, or something. You never know when fate is going to play a hand.â
âBut itâs such an insult, being passed over again. Itâs like Iâve hit a glass ceiling,â she said between sobs, pushing her face between my breasts.
I have to say the estrogen regime has done a great deal to help me comforting those that lean on me. You just canât beat breasts!
âThe workplace is a very unfair place,â I said to Amanda. âIf it doesnât feel right, you should just tell them where to shove their job.â
âIn this economy?â she replied. And she did have a point.
âI remember all the trouble Sylvester had years ago when he was looking for a career in healthcare,â I said. âHe got fired from that centre where they do the long term care for people with leprosy.â
âHe worked in a leper colony?â said Amanda perking up a little.
âWell, they donât call it that now,â I replied. âItâs some sort of long term care facility. Anyway, he started a poker school for some of the patients and ended up getting fired over it. Apparently someone threw their hand in, and lost their head. It was all very distasteful. Anyway, you know what a sweetheart he is. Employers are usually completely insensitive and out of touch. You just have to learn to take their money and keep on smiling.â
Amanda looked at me doubtfully.
âI suppose I do get some good perks,â she replied. âThe bacon, and stuff. And I get to go to Porkers every year.â
âPorkers?â I said.
âItâs the Pig farming convention,â she explained. I should add that there is an irony here. Amanda is currently in a relationship with our next door neighbor, Marjory, who is quite a big noise on the competitive eating scene. https://majorleagueeating.com/ She is apparently accomplished in the sausage category, which seems unusual, with her being a lesbian and everything. Anyway, thereâs Amanda growing the stuff, and Marjory wolfing it down. I canât help thinking thereâs a joke somewhere in there about Amanda firming it up and Marjory swallowing⊠well, you get the idea.
âLook,â I said comforting Amanda. âYou have to remember, thereâs a lot of people down at that paper who look at you with admiration. Theyâve watched you from behind their desks as youâve climbed higher and higher, and eventually burst through that glass ceiling, in a shower of glass and workplace discrimination. I mean, come on! Youâre the first women to edit Pig and Pig Farmer in the history of pig journalism. And all those other people are left below in a pile of glass, looking up at⊠at⊠your crack. The crack you left in the ceiling.â
Amandaâs shoulderâs heaved and she sobbed again.
âReally, Amanda,â I said. âYou know itâs no measure of who you are. We all admire your crack. The way youâve opened things up.â
I had the distinct feeling I wasnât helping. At that moment Marjorieâs F150 pulled up next door and I heard her boots on the gravel path. I let out a sigh of relief and Amanda pulled away and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.
âIâd better go,â she said. âI donât want Marjory to see me like this.â
So, this week as we move further into a difficult time in the workplace for many of us, Iâd like to take the opportunity to remind all my lovely friends that you are not defined by your work. Itâs good to remind ourselves from time to time that our work is only a small part of who we are. We work to support our life, we donât live to support our work.
Many of my friends canât work dressed as they wish, or even being the person they really are. When one is fortunate enough to live as one desires life gets a whole lot better, but many of us donât have that opportunity. If youâd like to explore this idea further you may want to read this – https://fionadobson.com/can-i-be-femme-behind-closed-doors-but-masculine-in-public/
I should say, Iâve been very fortunate. Having worked in the press, I can honestly say Iâve been fired by some of the finest papers in the world. To be honest, when I was in the press world that was practically a recommendation, and no one was considered very serious if they hadnât been fired from one or two papers. Iâve even been hired back by a few, too. I think things are a lot different today, though not particularly better. Times change. For those of us who are gender fluid, keeping things in perspective is important. Workplace discrimination is a pretty serious and massively prevalent issue. We have to learn to laugh, and have patience. Being trans sure teaches us that. But weâre still here. And we arenât going anywhere.
Have a lovely week, and donât let Covid get you down. I must say, my good friend and Prime Minister of Canada, Justin was on the news today. Which reminds me, I think heâs still got my copy of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. He always leaves the pages of books I lend him with the corners turned down. Iâve given him no end of bookmarks, but what can you do!
Itâs almost June, and I made a foray into the office, something I rarely do these days. To be quite honest, and between you and I, Iâve avoided going into the office since Sylvester crashed the virtual office Christmas party, pulled the pockets out of his pants and did his impression of an elephant. One just never knows when a mark may have been overstepped.
To make things still more unpredictable, we have a new human resources director. Colin, the last HR director was rather eccentric. He had tattoos all over his body, including a Canadian flag over his heart and a map of Canada on his face. He may have been a little odd, but at least with Colin you always knew where you were.
I was intercepted by the new HR director, Debra, as I entered the deserted reception area. A large woman, she approached me and asked who I was, not having been introduced to me before. She wore a ski jacket, which seemed a little odd in late May here in Vancouver. I also noticed she seemed to be well acquainted with my personnel file, which did not inspire confidence. Personally I prefer to keep a low profile when it comes to HR people.
I glanced around the reception area, noticing that the walls were adorned with new paintings.
âGeoffâs drawn up a corporate revitalization plan,â she said, referring to the CEO, while noticing I was looking around at the artwork on the office walls.
âWhatâs that?â I asked.
âOh, weâre going to be brightening up the office and moving toward a greener profile,â replied Debra. âHe says we have to pay more attention to our green footprint.â
I glanced at my shoes. I decided that while in town I should stop by that Italian shoe shop.
I find it a good practice to bend over backewards to help clients at the agency.
âWhat does that really mean,â I asked.
âIt means heâs turned off the heating,â came her reply. Well, at least that explained the ski jacket. I immediately noticed that the office was a lot cooler than it used to be.
âI see,â I replied trying not to show my disappointment.
âAnd that we have this,â and at this moment she paused, â⊠this art on the walls.â
âOh,â I said, âthatâs what it is.â
She smirked at me. I felt a little more encouraged. Could Debra be an ally? She looked at a large piece positioned behind where our receptionist would generally sit.
âWhat does it say to you, Fiona?â she asked.
âIt says to me that the artist has a pet cat with severe gastric distress,â I replied.
âYes,â she agreed doubtfully. âYou obviously have a keen eye. Actually, it says that Geoffâs daughter is out of rehab again and heâs bought a load of her art to put a few dollars in her pocket.â
âOur receptionist may need counselling if sheâs exposed to these for too long,â I replied.
That however is not the main reason Iâm writing to you today. As we get into summer itâs time to reach for that miniskirt and get into it. If you donât have one, either finding one in a store, or even going to a good quality thrift store and hunting down a bargain is a great idea. If youâre on my Patreon why not post a pic in the community section. Thereâs a challenge for you Daphanie! Daphanie is one of my favorite members and very active on our Whatsapp Group. To help you along the way try this little self hypnosis file. It may encourage you.
It seems like I spend half my time on texts these days. And then Sylvester will send something stupid like the text heâs just sent me.
Really, Iâm running between meetings, trying to keep my hair nice, checking out the new boy in the post room (yes, we still have one) and helping one of the senior partners arrange his meat and two veg. Oh, I should explain Bernard is doing a shoot for a client who has a string of restaurants, and we have to photograph some of the food for the advertisement. I canâtâ tell you much about it as itâs not yet been released, but jeez, you should see the size of the clientâs sausage.
And then I get a string of texts from Sylvester.
Sylvester: âŠby the way Fiona, I want to tell you something.
Myself: ?
Sylvester: Did you hear about the explosion?
Myself: What?
Sylvester: Yes. Iâve been showered in letters.
Myself: What are you blabbering about?
Sylvester: Since the explosion at the Scrabble factory.
Myself: I suppose you think thatâs funny.
Really, I have to put up with the most annoying things at times, and Sylvester is one of them. If heâs not moping around and looking doe eyed at Amanda, heâs out trying to teach Rainbow how to drive. He came in to the kitchen yesterday after taking her for a driving lesson. He was shaking so much I had to comment.
âSylvester, if thatâs not early onset Parkinsonâs, Iâd say youâre looking a little shaken up,â I said as I poured the tea.
He gave that thousand mile stare he sometimes has, and while clutching a traffic citation in his hand he said softly, âHow can you break the speed limit doing a three point turn in a cul-de sac? How did she do that?â
âGoodness me,â I said, adjusting my tartan three quarter length skirt. âJust what is it youâre teaching her to do?â
âItâs for her driving test,â he replied sounding quite dazed. ââNineth time luckyâ she said. Ninth time.â
âOh yes,â I replied. âNinth time is always a charm.â
But thatâs not the main reason I am writing to you.
I thought Iâd just remind you that this is Pride Month, and inspite of what a few Neanderthals would have you believe, in most of the civilized world Pride is being celebrated with joy.
If youâve not done so already, take a moment to find an appropriate way to support Pride in your neighborhood.
When Sylvester suggested I paint breasts on the back of my life jacket, thereby giving him something interesting to look at as he paddled in the double kayak, I refrained from the desire to beat him in the head with the paddle in my hands. Weâve taken to getting out and about on beautiful English Bay.
We’ve been doing so many chores at home recently I think we deserve a bi of a break. Just yesterday afternoon we were cleaning up an old chest of draws that had been neglected. Some candles had burned down and damaged the surface. Weâre taking the finish back to the wood. Iâve been stripping while Sylvester scrapes the varnish and wax off.
I enjoy doing outdoor activities to keep my body in shape. One activity Iâve found that works very well is sea kayaking. There are a couple of things worthy of pointing out about this activity. First of all, you can crossdress, wear a wig and anything else you want, once youâre out on the water no one is going to be able to either do or say anything about it. Another great advantage to be gained from this activity is the wonderful grounded feeling one has when surrounded with this much nature.
Sylvester was in my garden this morning enjoying a glass of my freshly made lemonade, hand squeezed and made from a recipe I enjoy.
“I do hope you’re like this, Sylvester, I juiced my lemons this morning especially for you,” I said.
Sylvester stared at my chest and then took another sip. You know he really can be quite coarse.
I do find fresh lemonade is a great way to refresh myself on these warm west coast days. Here’s a useful recipe if you have yet to make lemonade yourself. Now, I’m not saying Auntie Kittie has a problem with alcohol, but the moment I added a little gin to the mix her head appeared over the back gate to my garden and she gave a dainty wave.
“Is any body home,” she called out staring at the gin bottle.
And then she was in. Really, what can I do!
Not to be derailed from the job at hand, I sat the two of them down and told them of something that’s been on my mind of late. I am often asked by members and their wives, ‘does crossdressing mean Iâm going to be a worse husband?’ I had one such discussion this morning with a member whose husband was, ironically, a veterinarian.
Auntie Kittie topped up her lemonade with a healthy belt of gin and turned to me and said, “Of course it doesn’t.”
Sylvester glanced at Auntie Kittie and thankfully kept quiet. She is an expert on marriage having had two husbands. Widowed twice by the age of sixty is by some measures, quite an achievement.
“My poor Willard used to love to wear a nice frock from time to time,” she went on. “Of course, he was a slave to his prostate…”
She left that one hanging in the air. I wasn’t quite sure how to go on from there.
Surprisingly, Sylvester chimed in, “didn’t I see some statistics recently saying that people who are in the non-binary category are 23% more likely than the other adults to own a dog or cat?”
“Yes, ” I said. “Max pulled up those stats the other day.”
“Well, that suggests they’d be more likely to be sympathetic. You know, having a slightly more gentle nature,” mused Sylvester.
I stared at him, and said, “Well, done Sylvester. I think you just made your first emotionally intelligent observation. I do believe you’re becoming more sensitive. There’s hope for you and all other Neanderthal men out there. Next you’ll stop trying to light your farts at the church picnic.”
Sylvester looked a little morose at this and muttered something about that only happening on the one occasion.
You know how it is. You all get ready, make sure you’re prepared. Everyone takes the proper precautions â you know what I’m saying.
And then it always goes like this. One person just always, always finishes too soon. They’re way out there on their own having so much fun and then they’re done. Yes, it’s the same every time.
That’s why I never like playing threesomes at my local golf course. Sylvester and I are out there trying to find our balls, and Sebastian, my personal trainer, has already finished and is left polishing the shaft of his 9 iron. As you can doubtless tell, Sylvester, Sebastian and I are out having a round of golf now that spring s here.
Bernard is recovering from his heart transplant at home in his bed, though I have noticed since he got the heart of a middle aged African American woman he has started behaving very strangely. He’s made an appointment to meet Amanda, the queen of tweed, and show her his ‘Mamma’s recipe for apple pie,’ and he’s joined the local Baptist church choir. They were very confused when he said he wanted to sing in the soprano section.
I’ve always found teeing off in a group of four very much more satisfying. I also like to get off first, so I can feel them all coming up behind me. I’m sure you know what I mean.
But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you tonight. It’s just to tell you I’ve recently added a new feature to my Premium Program. I’ve always had a great collection of tasks and hypnosis files for my CD friends and members. Now I have added some great new material to the Premium Program for those crossdressers who have a partner who you’d like to bring into your CD activities.
Yes, I’ve put together a special short empowerment course to help your wife or partner (of any gender) take a more dominant role. This fun series of self hypnosis recordings stimulates a more dominant aspect of the subject to emerge. Over the course of several nights they listen to hypnotic instructions that are sure to engage their more dominant self. This, coupled with a powerful set of ‘subservience’ instructions for you â and it’s a powerful tool for anyone wanting to engage their partner in some of their crossdressing.
I know you’ll love it. It’s yet another great reason to upgrade to Premium Program if you haven’t already.
Iâve been travelling a great deal lately, which is quite ironic as my wife has arrived home in Vancouver for a few days. I hope youâve been enjoying yourself. Sylvester and I spent a few days in England recently and visited a delightful theme park called âSalisburyâ. So cute. We also went into something called âStonehengeâ. Itâs a conceptual art installation in a field. Very modern!
Naturally I was interested in the local fashions and styles, and I have a suspicion some of the locals around Stonehenge were definitely crossdressing on the quiet. The whole druid thing, with the robes and the paint, seems pretty femme to me. And of course, throughout the countryside thereâs that delightful aroma of history and dry rot, and confused looking locals wearing 1950âs clothes. Itâs all very lovely.
I have to say that this part of England is the most delightful place. It’s almost as though the modern era has passed it by, particularly in the fields of architecture and dentistry. So it was that Sylvester and I strolled along through the countryside in the footsteps of our neolithic ancestors. That’s no mean feat, by the way, when you’re wearing four inch heels.
We stayed at a delightful pub in Salisbury, called The Red Lion. It was built in 1220, which is substantially before North America was invented! I would thoroughly recommend the menu, and the rather cute little dark eyed waiter. Itâs fair to say that the food was wonderful, and the waiter was no slouch either.
Later that day I noticed Sylvester eyeing my pork pies as we rode in the taxi up to Stonehenge. Heâs quite enamored with the place. The landscape is so delightful here, and hardly any people. For a small island with 70 million people in it, I am left thinking they must have a mine somewhere in the north where they shove the other 60 million. Itâs probably near NorthallertonâŠ
While on the road Iâve been managing to keep up with the flood of email. I received a heartfelt message from a member this morning and felt I should share it. Linda is a sweetheart and lives in Australia.
My member said:
âHi Fiona,
Well here I go once again. I tried to stop CDâing and, well, that didn’t last long! l finally received a pair of black satin lace panties through the mail and I tried them on and they feel amazing. That’s what sent me right back to CDâing lm sure you have been told this by many others. This has been on-going for me as long as I can remember!
Linda
I responded with a reply below:
Hi Linda,
I know it can feel as though this is something to which you are a slave. That’s not really true though. It’s a part of who you are, just as your eye colour or your sense of humor is just a component of who you are.
For many crossdressers there really is a cycle that repeats and revolves throughout there adult life. If you are a crossdresser, you’ve likely been at this place before. You probably question, ‘why does this happen to me?’ This is one of the most difficult parts of dealing with this phenomenon.
As these cycles play through there’s a sense of desperation and likely shame, none of which feels very good. However, my take is rather different. I believe that rather than fighting something that is not going to just go away, I suggest you embrace it and manage it. It’s a deeply engrained part of who you are and you can never really ‘master’ it. Instead I encourage you to face it, move with it, and own it.
Instead of fighting the urge to dress, now and then go with it. My program teaches you to dress when you wish, to sometimes dress in a manner that’s more androgynous, and to accept who you are. I always counsel my members to do this in an appropriate way, and not to jeopardize their friendships and partnerships.
Sometimes dressing can be as simple as putting a little eye makeup on. Other times it might mean putting on a dress and heels, and occasionally it might simply mean wearing a pair of discrete panties beneath one’s work-wear. It may even play out as something that’s barely feminine at all, and yet satisfies your own desire to feel just a little more gently intentioned.
As you work with it, instead of fighting it, your crossdressing becomes a source of joy, not shame. Likely no one will notice much difference in you. And over time you start to shift a little. And then a little more. That part of you so long suppressed begins to become simply part of who you are – as it should.
So, don’t worry. Naturally I’d suggest you join my Premium Program, but you can also manage it yourself with care and discretion. You see, there’s a reason that thousands of people have joined my program over the years. Crossdressing can become a celebration of your own creativity.
I sincerely hope this helps.
đ
Fiona
Itâs quite normal for us to experience cycles with crossdressing, leading to a binge/purge experience with buying clothes. My Premium Program helps get rid of this destructive behaviour. Are you ready? If youâre not already in it, perhaps today is a good day to join.
Here I am getting this post ready for you in the hotel, on a hot evening here in Chicago. I hardly know where to start, so much has been going on. I suppose I should start by telling you all about Sylvester and the other night.
I wiped my chin and said to Sylvester, âOh, my goodness!â
It took me a moment to catch my breath. âIt wasn’t as salty as I expected. I can hardly believe the quantity!â
âMy tool is almost worn out!â Said Sylvester. He held the pliers, and dabbed his face with the napkin. Eating east coast lobster at a fish restaurant in Chicago is a great pleasure, but a very messy one. What did you think we were doing?
Sylvester was wrestling the last bit of lobster meat from within the claw. What a character he his. Always with a tool in his hand! As I am sure you know, he’s my mechanic and friend. We flew down together to visit Bernard in the hospital who was recovering in hospital..
I should explain. If you followed last weeks email you’ll know that Bernard managed to get himself Tazered in the arrivals lounge of O’Hare airport. That is far from where the drama ended.
He was rushed through to the hospital, and there â to my horror â they found that Bernard, who had become so excited by certain aspects of my physique, was in the middle of a heart attack. I had thought he looked rather like a freshly landed trout as he convulsed following his Tazering, but not being familiar with how one generally responds to a Tazer, I thought this quite normal.
Fiona’s Crossdressing Blog
Even the police officer who gave Bernard the jolt looked quite concerned. He even showed up in the hospital as Sylvester and I were visiting. Bernard was still unconscious, and here we were three days later.
The police officer walked into the private room I arranged for Bernard, and held out his hand. âOfficer Speltman,â he said. âYou can call me Sparky.â
âSparky,â said Sylvester. âAre you serious?â
âYeah… They gave me that nickname at the academy. It kinda stuck…â
âWell, Sparky,â I said, âI’m Bernard’s friend. I’m sure he would be grateful you came and visited. If he were, you know… conscious.â
âI’m sorry he got the jolt. I didn’t really have a choice in the circumstances.â
I took the business card Officer Speltman offered and said I would call him when we had further news. Then Sylvester and I went and found a hotel, and a fish restaurant at which to have some dinner.
âI still don’t quite understand why Bernard didn’t get up when the cop told him to,â said Sylvester.
âI think he was concerned about his clothing being… disarranged. He was in a state of some excitement.â I felt awkward telling Sylvester that Bernard had a prominent erection and was concerned about embarrassing himself when he stood up. âLet’s just say he was hard at work, when it happened.â
The following morning I had a call from the hospital with the worrying news that Bernard was extremely ill and that the hospital was doing it’s best to locate a heart for a transplant. I am, of course, quite shocked â as I am sure you are. I will keep you informed. (See what happened next by going here: https://fionadobson.com/bernard/zipper-job/)
In the meantime, I have a very special self hypnosis file for you tonight.
This file is all about identity, so join me in a lovely relaxing self hypnosis exercise and have a listen. And of course, I will be sure to let you know about developments with Bernard.
Rainbow sat clutching her gentle brow at my kitchen table, pale and effete as ever. That girl could well be a vampire.
âNo, Rainbow. I donât think anyone rufied your kombucha,â I said. âI think you drank half a bottle of gin on your own. And thatâs what it does.â
âBut, my head,â she moaned.
Sylvester shifted awkwardly. Like most men, the delivery of unearned sympathy is something he struggles with. Instead he sensibly kept his mouth shut.
âYou need a nice cleanse,â I said as I fried an egg in a heavy iron frying pan. âA sauna, perhaps and then a seaweed wrap.â
âSushi?â she said, turning a little green.
âNo, a seaweed wrap, where they wrap your body into the healing energy of seaweed. Itâs lovely. I had one with Sebastian last week at the spa.â
âYou realise I am basically an unemployed student?â retorted Rainbow.
âWell, Iâm just saying, with all that yoga and healthy livingâŠâ I adopted my most forgiving manner.
âAre you saying I canât go out and drink till I canât feel my face from time to time?â she replied.
Rainbow seemed to be a little tense, as well as being in the midst of a severe hangover.
âWhere on earth were you?â asked Sylvester.
âSome of the girls from the yoga studio and I went out to celebrate at Trannie Annies,â replied Rainbow.
âThey donât let me in that place anymore,â grumbled Sylvester.
âShut up, Sylvester,â I said. âMay I ask what you were celebrating last night, Rainbow. And, I mean, darling⊠was it really worth it?â I asked in an attempt to mollify her.
There was a long sigh, and then as I handed a high electrolyte orange drink to Rainbow she shared her latest news.
âand then ⊠Yadayadayada, so now I realise Iâm poly,â she concluded.
I stared at her.
I pride myself in being a crossdresser of taste and style, even if I do hang around with coarse oafs like Sylvester from time to time, but this was shocking news to me.
âReally,â I said stifling my bewildered emotions. âYouâre into polyester?â
I couldnât sanction such perversion.
âDonât be ridiculous,â said Sylvester. âIt means sheâs got a thing for parrots.â
âYou two are the limit,â said the poor suffering girl as I placed a perfectly fried egg on wholegrain toast before her.
âReally, Rainbow, darling, I can prepare a nice cleanse for you. An elixir of dandelion root, sage, kayle and Labrador tea leaves. I think of it as a very healthy cleanse.â
Sylvester piped up, âSort of an ‘ethnic cleanse’. Youâll feel like an entirely new person. I always say “When you feel like the bottoms fallen out of your world, Fiona can make a cleanse that will make the world fall out of…â
“Sylvester, belt up!” I interjected.
Sylvester really can be quite coarse you know. I sometimes wonder why I let him in. Still he does like to come and join me for breakfast after driving the Zamboni to prepare the ice for our hockey players for their early morning practice.
Now, Iâm sure you know this, but if you want to drill down and learn more about some of my people youâll see that the first mention of them is generally highlighted and a hot link. Through the wonders of technology, if you click on that youâll get a list of all the stories in which they feature. So you can drill down on any of the people and get more of their story. After 7 years of writing youâll find the well is indeed quite deep. It can keep you uselessly employed for hours!
Have a wonderful day.
đ
Fiona
PS. I recently rebuilt my Patreon presence. They’d kicked me off before but have let me back now on the condition that I keep my panties pulled up. If you’re enjoying these messages be sure to join me at any level on Patreon to build up my presence there. I include some fun content there. I am always grateful to my members. xxx
I stepped out of the warm stream of the shower knowing Sebastian and Sylvester were downstairs waiting for me in the breakfast room. After pulling on some panties, a robe and my pink fluffy slippers I hurried down the stairs.
Sebastian and Sylvester were at the table. Iâd completed a particularly rigorous dawn yoga session with Sebastian. If my hips were any more open you could have driven a train up there. As luck would have it Sylvester had offered to make us breakfast. While usually a coarse oaf, Sylvester has the capacity to be quite sweet at times.
As I glided into the kitchen Sylvester was serving up a delightful grilled breakfast, the sausages sizzling fresh off the skillet. A good start to the day is a lot easier with a breakfast like this. And breakfast is really the most important meal of the day. The bacon was glistening with flavor and the tomatoes came from Aliâs own garden. Quite lovely.
âItâs the damndest thing,â I said staring at the plate.
Sylvester looked at my plate and said âwhatâs wrong with it?â
âNo, not the food. Itâs just I had the weirdest dream last night.â
Sebastian asked, âWhat did you dream?â
I closed my eyes and tried to remember how it all went.
âThere were a few of us downtown. And there was this guy who had died.â
âWho was he?â asked Sylvester.
âI donât know. Itâs not important. Just some stiff,â I replied.
âAnyway they wouldnât let him in the graveyard because the church said they didnât have room. But everyone knew it was because he was queer. So, there was this drag queen. She was lovely. Letâs call her âCarlottaâ.., and I. And we stole the body and buried her up in the church yard anyway.â
âYou know they donât let you do that,â said Sylvester.
âIt was a dream,â I protested. âAnd we went up there and buried this guy. And then we did other stuff. Loads of stuff⊠And I had this lovely long velvet riding dress, like in that English serial. And Carlotta had these sequins on her pants and a gold cowboy hat and these huge guns with pearl inlays and a smoked blue gunmetal finish. A pair of 44s. Matching nails. Did I say we were on horses?â
âI know all about Carlottaâs 44s. How many of you were there,â asked Sylvester, a canny look in his eye.
âI believe it was seven. Seven trannies and drag queens. And one was bald. Iâm not quite sure what her deal was. Yes, that sounds about right. You have no idea how much glitter that is.â I replied.
âYes, you just dreamed The Magnificent Seven. Thatâs one of the best movies ever made,â said Sylvester.
âI thought it was a fantasy about masculinity and white privilege wrapped up in a self righteous superior message, all avoiding the whole gun thing, and how itâs a penis substitute and actually theyâd all rather be playing with their wieners. Except Yul Brynner. No, If he was coming after me with that huge weapon of his. Well, letâs just say I wouldnât be running away all that fast.â I replied. âCan you imagine,â I said my thoughts drifting off. ââŠfalling, and Yul leaning over you and reaching down and pulling you to your feet, and grabbing a great handful of ass and rippingâŠ.â My voice tailed off. Sometimes I do forget not to speak my thoughts.
I continued, âBut, yes, still one of the best movies ever made.â
Bringing a note of levity to the conversation Sebastian chimed in, âTheyâre all gone nowâŠâ
And what a time it would be to have a magnificent seven. With trans rights, and democracy itself on the ropes, we see so many hard won advances in decline. Things will turn around again soon. And in the meantime I think we have to support our trans sisters, regardless of what stage they are at, wherever we find them. Remember, youâre not alone. There are many of us here.
I had just got off the phone with Sylvester. I called him because, being a quarter Italian, I thought heâd be able to tell me which was better, the Heinz ravioli or the Chef Boyardee one.
Really, itâs so easy to yank some peopleâs chain. Donât worry, I only do it because I love him!
Itâs all that, âMamma used to make pasta by hand,â and âItâs not real cheese if itâs not from Italy.â
Honestly, they think they are the only people who know anything about culinary expertise. Why, I was making a lemming meringue pie just this week, but it fell of the table. Make of that what you will.
All that said I canât deny that the Italians really do know how to seduce you through your mouth. The sensuality of linguine and the rugged honesty of meat balls, I mean really. What kind of pervert do you have to be not to love that?
All of which has nothing to do with the real reason Iâm writing to you. Part 61 of Clothes Maketh The Man is out. So many people have been waiting with baited breath to see what disaster is about to befall poor Andy next. All I can tell you is, âyou really wouldnât want to be Andy!â.
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.
I was relaxing in my garden this afternoon when I got a distraught call from Rainbow, Sebastianâs sister, asking to come round immediately. Of course, I said yes, always supportive of my friends. Besides, Sylvester had just left, having got my asphalt. Heâs doing some work resurfacing the driveway.
âYouâd better drop by, now Iâve got my asphalt,â I said down the phone.
Rainbow has just got back from a few days at what she calls a âretreatâ. She does this once in a while, escaping to the Grin And Bare It Nudist Colony on a nearby island, in the southern Gulf Islands in British Columbia. Itâs a rather strange sort of escape, involving naturists engaged in yoga and improv comedy. I suspect thereâs a certain number of them that also become engaged in open sea swimming in an attempt to escape, or at least they would be if I found myself confined on an island in such circumstances.
One of the regulars at this particular location is a man who has turned to unusual street performance for his living. Rainbow, who sometimes teaches yoga on the island, has been encouraging this gentleman, assuring him that street performance could be a great way to gain a small income for the rest of his life.
Did you know?
