"Beautiful view. The skyline, also."
It was just like my mistress to be cheeky while I was so worked up. Four days now. Four days into my visit to Austin to see friends. Four days of mistress sending me requests to take sneaky photos of myself being naughty in public. Four days of tension, of not being allowed to touch myself.
This side of me was largely kept hidden from anyone. On the outside, I was an unassuming woman with a completely unremarkable life. My work as an IT technician at an accountant agency kept the lights on while being the sort of thing that nobody wanted to hear about at parties. My interests weren't anything outside the norm. I liked mini-golf and Bruno Mars. The most out-there of my tastes was trying to get my friends to watch Republic of Doyle, a procedural detective show that was...Canadian. Wild stuff.
When I was with her, though, that all changed.
She'd introduced me to so much. To beautiful fear. To sweet pain. To a boldness that I never knew I had in me. My sex life before her was completely unrecognizable. Making efforts to please others, being only occasionally rewarded in return. The word "sex" should not refer to both activities, they were so far removed from each other.
This trip, my Austin friends had been given the briefest glimpse of the me that she had made. The renaissance faire that we annually attended was no stranger to women showing cleavage. Neckline-enhancing corsets were so ubiquitous they should have had a listing on the event's website. I'd never participated before, but, this year, on mistress's orders, I showed up wearing an outfit skimpy enough to attract attention. My friends were even more shocked when, after a few samples of ale and my queen's encouragement, I found myself making out with a bard we'd just met that afternoon.
Now, here I was, on the last day of my trip, as the sun began to set, taking a picture of myself, the beautiful river and city skyline, a jeweled butt plug visibly inserted. One of many photos of me exposing myself requested by my mistress.
I waited for her response, fingers tapping nervously on the park bench on which I'd sat to take my selfie. Eventually, the distinctive tone she'd selected to signify her texts rang out, and I fumbled for my phone.
"Good girl. Now remove the plug."
My eyes darted back and forth. It was late on a weekday. The park was fairly low-traffic, but I was still nervous about the request. Hands shaking, I leaned over just enough to gain access, before drawing the toy out inch by agonizing inch. The small plug slipped free, and I hastily threw it into the pocket of my purse. Looking around again to make sure I was still in the clear, I took a picture of the plug, still wet with lube, in my bag, sending it to my mistress.
A text followed shortly. "Very good."
My heart fluttered with anxious pride as my core pulsed with lustful need. The trip was almost over. Tomorrow we would be reunited, and, hopefully, she would finally allow me to have the release I craved.
The familiar text tone. "One more photo, my kitten."
Finally. Anything, at this point. She could ask me to finger myself there and then, and I wouldn't hesitate.
"I want to see your pretty cunt..." the text message read. "...dripping with cum."
Every other sound in the park was drowned out by the thumping of my pulse in my ears. She couldn't be serious, could she? Shaking fingers texted back. "My cum, mistress?"
"No," a curt reply, followed by further explanation. "I want you to find someone. And I want them to fuck you."
The phone nearly fell to the ground, my hands were shaking so bad. This was new. This was...more. I was no stranger to being shared by my mistress. The town we lived in wasn't the largest, but there were enough people for there to be a scene of like-minded BDSM enthusiasts. Plus, on some particular evenings, a few of mistress's more select friends had been invited into our play. A stranger was something else, however.
Another text message. "You select the person. Any gender. As long as they have a cock that can fill you."
At least I had agency in the choice of partner. The whole of me vibrated with shock and, underneath, thrill. This was so much more than I'd ever thought myself capable. My trust in her was absolute, but, no matter how much we'd done, I was still that unassuming person underneath, right? How could that person do something so wanton. So...slutty. My mind reeled, but my worked-up cunt flushed with excitement and need.
The text notification rang out again. "After they have released inside you, you may cum."
That was the tipping point. My typing fingers were a blur. "Yes, mistress."
Two hours later, I was downtown. The restaurant was nice. Not the sort of fancy that kept ordinary people like myself out, but fancy enough that being there was a special occasion. My trip was short, but I had packed one Nice Dress just in case. Predictably, I wore nothing underneath, the fabric clutching to my curves and leaving little to the imagination. On top, a simple but elegant open jacket. My old self would have never permitted such a revealing outfit to ever touch my plus-sized frame, but the need to please my mistress had overwritten petty concerns about my body long ago.
A host approached as I lingered in the entranceway of the building. He was cute, and I briefly considered trying to make him my pick of the evening. All dark skin and curls. For a moment, I could very, very vividly picture him beneath me as I rode him. My face flushed as I did my best to appear friendly and nonchalant.
"Party of one?" he asked me.
"Yes, just me tonight," I smiled, putting not a little bit of flirtation behind it.
"Right this way," he gestured into the restaurant proper and began to walk inside. I followed. As I sat down at the table to which he had led me, I caught a glimpse of his eyes, wandering over my body. Good.
"Here you go," he stammered. "Your server will be with you shortly."
"Thank you," I cooed. He speedily walked off, presumably not wanting to get caught checking out a customer. A shame that the logistics of his position prevented us from going further. It would have been nice to surprise him.
Classy, understated lighting illuminated the dining area. Tonight was evidently not a popular date night, as the place was only home to a few scattered individuals besides myself. Some looked like couples. Some looked like business associates. And then there was me. Sitting alone with what felt like a spotlight shining down. I knew it was only in my head, but, knowing why I was there and knowing my mistress's desires, I felt like I was practically glowing.
Preoccupied with my visibility, I'd completely missed my waiter approaching. "Hello! Welcome!" he greeted, causing me to jump in my seat.
I looked up, only to be met by a pair of beautiful green eyes. Taking in the rest of him, I was impressed. He had an incredibly charming smile, with the sort of easy confidence that set me at ease. He was quite the cutie. I couldn't help but think that he'd be perfect for my needs tonight.
"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked.
I smiled back. "You can," I gave him my order, and he walked away. Nerves electric, I pulled out my phone to text my mistress.