I was looking forward for the holiday; a nice mid-week respite from the bustle of the daily grind. I figured I’d head downtown, eat out for lunch, stroll, and window shop a bit.
My Lord had a full day, but he still ran mine. A detailed-oriented man, he oversaw and approved my outfit the night before; the requirements were a dress and a g-string. I picked out a casual dress and a semi-transparent mauve lilac g-string. Animal print pointed flats, a bra in a matching color, and a black leather bag finished out the rest.
And so I left, off to wander and relax.
*Where was I?* He asked while I stepped into the Uber. *On my way to lunch*, I said. Once I’d arrived, he had me show him where I’d gone. *Has anyone checked you out?* And so I told him of the looks I’d received, even right then at lunch, the men staring at me. And stare they did, as the dress showed off my legs.
*Take your panties off*, he said. *I can’t, not here*, I said. There were too many people eating out, some looking at me. I could never manage. My heart raced at the idea, a knot of nerves.