My first Findom Dream

When you learn another language, they say you are fluent when you dream in your new language. Last night I had my first Findom dream, so perhaps I am now finally fluent.

A peak into my subconscious....

I stand a Charring Cross Station. I am wearing a tailored black blazer dress which just covers my bottom, jet black tights and two inch black court shoes which put me just under 5'11 in stature. My long brown hair falls just beneath my breast and I'm holding a black leather bound folder. I make my way to the lavatories and begin to queue. In my peripheral I see a man coming towards me. He's late 50's/early 60's. He wears a a pin stripe suit and red tie, clean but dated, and has a wire moustache. At first I feel uncomfortable, there is no reason for him to be here near the ladies toilets, but then I catch his eye. And we see each other, clearly for the people we both are, the people we are at our debase level. He fumbles into his pocket and pulls out a slightly worn black leather wallet. He opens it fully and exerts a thick pile of crisp twenty pound notes and places it into my hand. From touch alone I can feel there is almost two thousand pounds here. I place the money in my pocket while onlookers stare with confusion and bedazzlement. 

The man turns to talk walk away. He has performed his duty and expects nothing more. I however, now fully validated in my female embodiment, wish to reward this passerby. Before he is out of reach and I take his arm and walk into the ladies cubical. I gently push on his back to direct him on to an all fours position onto the toilet floor. I pull down my tights, sit on the toilet and relieve myself while resting my long slender legs on his back. After urinating I stand up and wipe my vagina with toilet roll before crumpling it up and dropping it onto the floor. Still on all fours, he scrambles to grab the toilet paper and thrusts it into his pocket. 

I pull my tights back over my bottom and up to my waist, straighten my clothes, meanwhile he climbs to his feet and opens the cubical door for me, like the gentleman he is. We walk back into the main station to be greeted with the noise of the hustle and bustle, and changing lights from timetable boards. We pause for the briefest of moments before heading to our respective platforms, the whole interaction having taken place without a single word being spoken.