Turnabout Chapter 4 - A Morning in the Garden

[lockedforfun]

I was naked Saturday morning. The kids were all out of the house for the weekend again, so my wife ordered me to remain nude. She already had a rule that I always sleep nude, had been enforcing that – along with the no pubic hair, for some months already. So as I stripped for bed Friday night and slid into bed beside her, she began playing roughly with my trapped balls – the cage held them out for her quite nicely – she pointed out all the kids were away until Sunday night, and so I was not to put on any clothes when I got up in the morning. She kept talking about how fun it would be to have me “scampering around the house naked” and that it would make it much easier to spank me, which she planned to do with no kids around to hear the noise.

This kept up for a while until I said “Your Highness, you have me very close.”

She stopped, her hand came away from by balls, and she said “Good night, Honey.”
“Good night.” My cock throbbed. I was getting better at falling asleep after being edged, but it still took a little while.

I had gotten up around 7 – we tend to sleep in a bit on weekends – and made coffee. I was dealing with the dishes – I didn’t have a chance to do them the night before as she’d kept me occupied as her sex toy - when she walked into the kitchen wearing a kimono-like satin robe and some satin pajama bottoms. The robe wasn’t tied closed and as she walked, it floated open to show me her bare breasts. My cock twitched and lifted the heavy metal cage a little.

“Good morning,” she said and I quickly poured her a cup of coffee.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the cup from me and running her hand over my bare ass. “My, my, don’t you look cute?” She squeezed my butt cheek and we kissed.

“So do you,” I said. “Er, Your Majesty, that is.” I was used to calling her that in the bedroom, but still not used to doing it elsewhere when we were alone.

“Mmmm. Your Queen is going to check her socials and drink a cup of coffee out on the patio. Finish cleaning up the kitchen and then join me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

She walked out onto the back yard patio. We have several acres surrounded by trees. Occasionally in winter, when the leaves were off the maples, you could see the roof of one of our neighbor’s houses, but now, in summer, most of our yard, and especially the garden, was very private. I finished loading the dishwasher, refilled my coffee and started out onto the patio. I quickly stopped, grabbed the coffee pot, and walked out onto the terrace.

“Would Your Highness like a refill?” I asked.

“Yes, that would be nice.”

I walked over to the other side of the outdoor sofa she was reclining on to get her cup. I picked it up and she began fondling me while I refilled her cup. She let go when I set the cup down. I returned to the kitchen to put the coffee pot back on its warmer and came back outside with my cup. I put it down and was about to sit on one of the chairs when my wife barked out “Inspection Position!”

I snapped into position, facing her spread open. She gave me a brief glance just to be sure I was obeying, then went back to her phone. I remained in place, conscious of my nudity, feeling a little breeze drifting over my exposed balls.
After a minute or so, she looked up and said “Turn around, face the other way, let me see your butt.”

I turned. I was standing, legs spread, looking out over the garden. It looked to be nice weather. The sky was clear blue, the morning sun glinted over the garden. After a couple of more minutes, I heard my wife lightly chuckle.

“Okay, release. I won’t make you wait for your coffee to get cold.”

I sat down and took a sip of coffee. It was still warm.

“I imagine that I don’t have any plans of my own today,” I said.

“Mmmmm, no, no you don’t. But I have plenty for you. I need to get some gardening done today, and have some ideas to make you useful.”

I looked out over the garden again. “And I’ll be naked out there? The whole time?”

“The whole time,” she said. She looked up at the sky. “It’s going to be sunny. You might end up with some interesting tan lines underneath that cage.”

I took another sip of coffee.

We chatted for a while, mostly mundane things with an occasional reference to my nudity, or her teasing me with her breasts, but mostly non-sex related. Then she stood up.

“Well, time for us to get to work. Wait Position.” I stood up, spread my legs and folded my arms behind my back. “You’re already, ahem, ‘dressed’,” she said, giving my ass another squeeze as she picked up my empty coffee cup. “But I need to get changed into my gardening stuff. You wait here, I’ll be back.”

She turned and went back into the house, leaving me standing spread and exposed on the patio. I stood there and waited. I was in Wait Position after all. I was enjoying this position stuff. Of course on the surface it would seem to be so utterly boring, standing as still as a statue waiting for her to return, not even getting to see or smell her, let alone feel her teasing me. But it was intoxicating, to be commanded by her, used as an object, a decoration. My cage was comfortably tight.

I’m not sure how long I was there. It’s hard to keep track of time when you’re in position. A few minutes, maybe ten. I spent it thinking about what work she might have me doing in the garden. Weeding, certainly. And the garlic was probably ready to harvest. Shifting hoses to water the beds.
I’d put in a drip irrigation system for most of it, but it wasn’t connected directly to the water supply, you still had to haul hoses out to it.

She stepped back out onto the patio. She was dressed in a pair of jean shorts that made her ass look very nice, and an oversized T-shirt that hid her breasts pretty well. She was also carrying something in her hands. As she walked up to me, I realized she had our neoprene velcro cuffs. She stepped behind me and started putting them on my wrists. Quickly, my wrists were cuffed together behind my back. Then she put another pair on my ankles, but she didn’t cuff them together yet, just put them on.

Finally, she reached into her pocked and pulled out a chain leash. At one end was a loop with a snap hook, at the other was a buckling leather strap. She put the strap around my balls, beneath the cage and in front of the base ring, and buckled it very tight. My balls were now double-trapped, once by the cage, but even more tightly by the strap. She gave the leash a tug and I could see them, gathered, rounded, and very vulnerable.
She didn’t say anything, just smiled and began walking into the yard pulling my leashed balls behind her. Of course I followed, there was no way I wasn’t going wherever that leash pulled. She led me past the hot tub and through the gate into the orchard. Our yard was a mix of an orchard and a garden, raised beds with fruit trees, berry bushes, and regular vegetables spread out. Near the hot tub, the big garden hose, or hoses really, was coiled. Three of them hooked together to make it the nearly 300 feet to the far edge of the garden.

She led me over to the hose, then passed the leash through my legs and I heard the snap hook snap closed.

“There,” she said. “First job today is watering, and you’re going to haul the hose out for me. Come along now.” She began walking towards the far corner. I began to follow and realized she had hooked the leash to the garden hose. I felt the tug on my balls as I began to drag the hose behind me.

At first, it was easy, the hose uncoiled pretty smoothly. But as I got farther into the garden, as there was more and more hose dragging behind me, it got heavier and heavier with every step. Halfway there I was grunting, finding it hard to keep going. The pull on my balls was hard and painful.

Three quarters of the way there, I had to pause and catch my breath.

“Having trouble?” she asked, turning around and walking back to me. “Is the hose too heavy for your poor balls?” She reached between my legs and squeezed them.

“Yes, Your Majesty. It’s getting very heavy.” I looked at the end of the garden. It seemed so far away. “I don’t know if I can make it. It gets heavier with every step.”

“Are you at Yellow Light?” she asked. I nodded. Yellow Light was our “warn word.” Red Light was the safety word and meant stop, but Yellow was just me letting her know I was reaching a limit, but it was still her call to continue or not.

“It must be heavy, you hardly ever Yellow Light. Mmmmm, okay, take one more step for your Queen.”

I swallowed hard and willed my right foot forward. It landed on the ground and, grunting, I pulled myself forward, dragging the hose another two feet with just my balls.

“Very good,” she said, caressing my ass. “Now one more. For me.”

I repeated the same thing, the grunt turning into something of a growl at the end.

“Can you do one more? Just one more?”

I stepped forward, tried to pull my body even with my foot, got half way there, and had to step back. I shook my head. “It’s too heavy. Too heavy.”
She patted my naked ass. “It must be. You don’t like failing. Well, I suppose this is the first time you’ve ever dragged a garden hose by your balls, it will take some time to build up their strength. You made it pretty far! Here, I’ll help you make it the rest of the way.”

She picked up the hose behind me and instantly the weight was manageable.

“Okay, let’s go, over to the far beds.”

I began walking again. I was still dragging the hose, but not all of its weight now, she was taking up a lot of it. It still hurt some, but a much nicer, bearable pain. I wasn’t worrying about pulling my balls off any more.

We got to the beds and she unhooked the hose from my leash, ordered me into Wait Position, and went about hand-watering some blueberries we still had in pots. I’d meant to get those into the ground this spring, but missed my opportunity. I stood there, as still as a statue, spread and exposed, while she moved from pot to pot. When she finished, my wife smiled at me.

“You do make an adorable garden sculpture.” She slapped my ass hard as she walked past me to hook the hose up to the drip system. Once she had that going, she gave me another slap.

“Okay, now we’ll do some weeding while the water runs on this bed.” She grabbed the leash and started walking me back towards the garden shed.
When we got there, she opened it up and rolled out the garden cart. It was a medium-sized one, with big wheels that rolled easily. That was good for me, because once again, the leash went between my legs and was hooked to the handle of the cart. I was going to be a draft animal, pulling the cart with my balls.

“Okay, let’s go,” she said, dropping a rake and a hoe into the cart and slapping me again.

I followed her back towards the far part of the garden, pulling the cart attached to my balls. It wasn’t too bad, like I said the cart rolled freely. There were a few bumps here and there – damned gopher holes – that caught and provided a little extra pull, but it was no where near as bad as pulling the hose.

We got to the garden beds. I had trouble steering the cart, with my hands cuffed and only able to pull forward, not backing up. So she had to help get it straight between the beds. Then she stepped into one of the beds and began weeding along a row of beans. As she pulled up the weeds, she’d throw them into the cart, and as she moved down the row, I’d slowly pull it along to keep up with her.

“Are you enjoying being my garden pony?” she asked, tossing another batch of weeds into the cart.

“I am, Your Majesty.”

She shook her head and smiled. “I’m glad we can entertain each other. I thought about making you do the weeding while I lounged around, but I think this is more fun.”

“For both of us,” I agreed.

She reached over with the handle of the hoe and smacked the leash, pulling sharply on my balls.

“What did you forget?”

“Your Majesty. Fun for both of us, Your Majesty.”

She smiled and gave the leash a lighter tap. “That’s right.”

When she finished the bed, she pointed at the open lawn ahead of me.

“See if you can get the cart turned around by yourself and headed back up the other direction to do the next bed.” Then she busied herself moving the hose to another bed that needed watering.

I stepped forward, dragging the cart, and began a big circle. I misjudged it and didn’t have enough space to get straightened out.

“Go around again,” she said. “make a wider circle this time.”

I did as instructed and was able to line up the cart with the space between the rows, at the cost of a little extra tugging on my balls.

“Excellent,” she said, stepping across in front of me to the next bed. She stopped, reached down to grab my cage, and kissed me very deeply. Then she got back to work weeding and throwing the weeds into my cart.

We weeded four beds, and the cart was getting pretty full by the time we finished. The weeds weren’t really that heavy, but there were a lot of them and I was probably pulling an extra ten pounds with my balls by the end.

“That’s enough for today, Horsey,” she said, slapping my ass hard, then going on to grope and caress my cheeks. “Let’s go dump the weeds.”

I started pulling the cart to the compost bins a few yards away, but she stopped me.

“Those are weeds, they can’t go in the compost, they have to go in the weed pile.”

I felt my stomach do a somersault. Not only was the weed pile a lot farther away, but it was outside the fenced garden on the other side of the driveway. The garden was well-hidden from view, but the driveway had a clear line of sight to the road. Anyone driving – or walking – by would see me as I crossed it.

“Come on,” she said, pointing towards the gate that led out to the driveway.

I began towing the cart towards it with a combination of dread and excitement. When I got to it, I stopped far enough away for her to open it. My hands were still cuffed behind my back, so I couldn’t do it myself.

She walked past me towards it, turned, came up to me, and gave me another deep kiss.

“I wasn’t really going to make you walk across the driveway like this,” she said, smiling. “But I like that you were ready to do it.”

She kissed me again, then walked behind me, detached the cart from me, and took it across the driveway to dump the weeds out.

When she came back, she said “That’s enough work for this morning, I think I’m going to get a little sun. Set up the hammock over there,” she pointed at a sunny patch of lawn on the edge of the garden, “and fix me a glass of lemonade. And a bottle of water for yourself. Speaking of water, turn it off and coil the hose back up – you can use your hands this time, you don’t need to pull it by your poor balls.”

She released the cuffs and started off towards the house. “Wait for me by the hammock.”

I coiled the hose then got the hammock set up and fixed her lemonade. I filled a water bottle with cold water for myself, took a couple of big drinks, then walked back out to the hammock. I set my water bottle down on the grass and was about to assume Wait Position, but realized there wasn’t really any place to set her lemonade down. I was just about to fetch a small, round outdoor table when I heard the door open and my wife walked out. I stood with my legs spread and simply held her drink in front of me.

She was wearing a bikini. Not a super-skimpy one, rather a high-waisted full coverage type - she was a fifty year old mother of three after all - but she looked great in it and the top showed off fantastic cleavage. I was partially hard within the cage at the sight of her.

She was carrying her Kindle and a small pillow. She came up to me, set the pillow in the hammock and gave me another kiss while fondling my balls.

“They feeling okay?” she asked. “They got a workout this morning.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, very okay.”

“Well, now,” she said as she took the lemonade from my hands. “I’m going to need a table to set my drink on, aren’t I?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” I said, getting the hint and dropping onto my hands and knees in Table Position next to the hammock.
“A little bit to the right,” she said. I moved.

“Perfect,” she said, and I felt the cold glass and her Kindle both set down on my bare back. I heard her lay down in the hammock. Then I felt the Kindle and drink both lifted off my back, with the drink put back down a moment later.

I stayed there, hands and knees as my wife’s garden table while she read and sunned herself. I felt the sun too. It was close to noon and the rays were warming my naked back and bare buttocks. It felt nice. Even the cold drink sitting on my back felt good. I had to remain very still though, and couldn’t let my mind wander too much.

Every once in a while she would take another sip of her lemonade, and sometimes fondle my balls a bit afterwards. Twice I got close enough I had to warn her. I couldn’t really look at my caged cock for fear of spilling the drink, but I could feel precum flowing through it. I lost track of time.

“We’re both getting enough sun,” she said suddenly, standing up and taking the drink off my back. “Go fetch the patio umbrella and bring it over here for some shade.”

I stood up, a little stiff from so long in Table Position, maybe half an hour, and I could feel the skin on my back, and especially on my ass, was just on the verge of a sunburn. I walked quickly to the patio, closed the umbrella, then carried it and the base over to the hammock. I set it back up where it would shade the hammock and the ground next to it where I had been serving as her table. I finished, and then assumed Wait Position next to her, legs spread, arms folded behind my back.

She looked up at the umbrella, evaluated where the shadow was falling, and nodded.

“Very good. Now I need my table again, so get back down there, Darling. But have a little water yourself, first. I don’t want you dehydrated.”

I took a big slug from my water bottle, got back on all fours, and almost immediately felt the cold glass set down on the small of my back. She laid back down on the hammock and went back to her reading. I felt the precum flowing through my shaft. It wasn’t quite noon yet, I had a long day still ahead of me.