My Dream Domme Dates #3: A dream Domme Life (FTT, spirituality, forced-feminisation, sissy, forced-bi)

I've been journaling a lot lately, first thing in the morning, a quick stream of consciousness. I keep coming back to a particular fantasy; a vision of my future. I see it so clearly now that I thought I’d share it here. Not a date this time, but a dream life…

PART 1 (MORNING)

I wake up early, to the sound of absolute silence. The first sound I hear is the little antique bell I ring to let her know I’m ready. My favourite sissy maid comes into my room with my morning coffee. She’s been waiting patiently for the bell. I wake up whenever I please so she must be up at the crack of dawn, ready for me. She’s fully dressed at all times to my high standards. Silicone mask, pink wig and a slutty outfit I picked for her the night before. She hands me the coffee and bends over for a little slap on the bottom.

“Thank you, Princess” she says. “You’re very welcome, Daphne”

It’s her proudest moment each day and I know she’d be so excited if it wasn’t for the tiniest clitty-cage keeping her pointless member restrained. She turns back around all red in the face, looking down at the floor. They all know not to look me in the eyes in the morning. I love to see her flustered. She takes my breakfast order, gives me a little curtsey and scurries off to get it ready for me. She knows I’m meanest when I’m hungry. I mentally note that she didn’t open the curtains for me and my brain ticks through a series of suitable punishments.

I go to the window and draw them myself. From my Princess’s turret all I can see for miles is a lake and then woodland. Completely secluded. Not a single outsider to upset the delicate balance I have carefully crafted here. As I go down to the dining room, the house is still silent. They all know if they make a peep I will not be pleased. In the kitchen the lesser sissy maids are working on my breakfast request. I sit down at the head of the table where Daphne is waiting on her knees for my next instruction. I tell her it’s time to unlock the rooms, to let them out. She answers a simple “Yes, Princess” and heads off to dutifully release the rest of my followers. Their bedrooms are in the basement, obviously. They’re four to a room, bunkbeds, cold stone walls. No personal effects allowed. Drawers filled with simple clothes, socks and underwear - all in pink. After their rooms are unlocked they have exactly ten minutes to jump in the shower, get dressed and join me in the dining room. There is no hot water in the basement and they cram together in the group showers. All their pink cages knocking against one another is a mental image that makes me giggle. Some of my followers are sissies; but I also have pets, slaves and any other kind of pervert you could imagine. What unites them is that they’re all toilets. All my toilets.

Daphne brings them into the room in a neat, single file line and they gather in rows around the big table. I started with just four and now I scan the faces of over 50 human toilets. Of course, they’re all obediently looking down at the ground. One glance up before I allow it will result in the worst of punishments. Disqualification from The Choice.

The table is laid with all the food items I’ve requested. Pastries, eggs, toast, cheeses, beans. More coffee, fruit juice and plenty of water. Next to my plate is a pink silk pouch that I keep their keys in. I ring the bell for Morning Devotion from my followers, in unison they chant until I hold my hand up to stop them:

“Princess is God.

Princess provides.

We believe, we receive,

With Her waste, we’re sanctified”

Then I direct them to watch as I eat. They may look at the table, my plate, my fork and my mouth only. I have a ginormous appetite and an even bigger perversion for making them watch me eat. They know where it’s going and they’re programmed to want it so badly. Sometimes I swear I look up to see their eyes mesmerised and their mouths drooling. I eat until I’m full and then I ring the bell: it’s time for The Choice. I look across the table to my hungry sea of bodies in pink cotton. I like to take my time deciding. My followers are numbered, Daphne is the only one to have earned a name (decided by me). I stand up and walk amongst them, I can feel them collectively holding their breath, straining in their cages. Today it’s number 9. When I announce this I can sense the disappointment in the other toilets but they know better than to make any audible sound. As I leave the room the lesser sissy maids are clearing the table; they take all my leftovers from breakfast, blend them up and serve them to the unchosen toilets.

Daphne takes the arm of 9 and leads him to our special Toilet Room. It’s covered in baby pink tiles from floor to ceiling. A beautiful chandelier hangs in the centre. My favourite room in the house. I tell Daphne to leave. I take my time stripping 9 of his pink clothes until he is completely naked, except the cage. He lays down in the middle of the room, head in the queening chair designed to look like a throne. I slip my knickers off and sit on my throne, first piss and then shit. Number 9 knows not to miss a single drop of it. I watch from above as his body shakes with pleasure and fear. Eat it all and then clean me up. That’s how it goes, every day like clockwork. Meanwhile, the rest of the followers go to sit cross-legged in the Learning Room for their morning programming.

After I’ve finished, I ring the bell for Daphne. When she enters the Toilet Room I instruct her to take her clothes off. She looks at me confused - this isn’t the normal protocol. But, of course, she does it. I tell her to get on her hands and knees. I search in my pink silk pouch for number 9’s key and I hand it to Daphne to unlock him from her position on the floor.

“What did you forget to do today Daphne?” She looks confused.

“I said… what did you forget to do?”

“I’m sorry Princes, I don’t know”

“You didn’t open the curtains this morning, you stupid little slut”

Her eyes widen as she realises her mistake. Before she can apologise I tell her to start sucking 9’s cock. I didn’t randomly choose 9. I never do anything randomly. Number 9 has the largest cock of all my followers and Daphne knows she’s about to take it in her arse. I push her mouth down onto it until she gags. Over and over again until her eyes water. I instruct 9 to put it in her arse now; and don’t be gentle about it! She won’t be making the same mistake tomorrow morning.

Part 2 cumming soon...