Our string of 60+ days of over 100F (38C) degree heat has finally broken. This past Monday (Labor day, the official end of summer) we awoke to a cool 60F morning and it only climbed to 95F over the course of the day.
This still sounds amazingly hot, and is, if you are in the sun, but Monday was so cool, I was out puttering around in our garden while Sir did some maintenance on the house in preparation for the coming wet season.
Puttering around in our garden means going out in the early morning before the sun rises over the house and weeding and moving some flowers around. It also, of course, means doing it in latex.
Monday morning I asked Sir if I could work in the garden and he said yes, but to wear my burqa while I did so. And, because it was so cool when he woke me and let me out of my vac bed, I put on my usual cooler weather attire.
So, after my morning bath, I dressed in a thin skinsuit of transparent red tinted latex, a red rubber ankle length, loose skirted dress with a Victorian bodice (all high collar and leg o'mutton sleeves), matching boots, gloves, and a hood covering the skinsuit's transparent one.
This was the first day I have been able (and required) to wear two layers of latex all day long in quite some time. For most of the summer Sir has relented on the skinsuit allowing me to just wear a dress or skirt and blouse and only one hood. Sometimes, I have not even had to wear a hood for the whole day unless we were going out and then only the burqa's hood.
So, I wandered downstairs after dressing, doubly covered and gloved and hooded, and asked Sir if I could do my gardening before the sun got too high. His response was, "yes, but wear your red burqa. And I will put you in hobbling chains, i think!"
I was a little disconcerted since our back yard is fully enclosed and not exposed to neighbors or anyone else. No one could see, even if I was chained, so why the burqa? But needs must when the devil rides, so I went to our play room and waited.
A few moments later Sir joined me, collected a set of hobbling chains from the wall and proceeded to severely limit my range of motion.
The steel chains he chose are not very heavy, are very silver, and have rubber manacles attached to them. They start with a pair of ankle manacles, chained together with a length of about 18 wide. This limits my stride, but since I was to be kneeling much of the time, it would not matter much. A vertical chain rises from the center of the hobble to a rubber waist belt which went around my dress. Attached to it are 'D' rings at the sides and front and back.
The side rings have short chains coming off them with arm cuffs attached. These fasten above my elbows and restrict my arm range of motion considerably.
The D rings in back and front have chains coming off them leading to a heavy rubber neck collar. Once fastened, at the specific length, I would be able to stand, but would be unable to stretch.
Then, Sir fastened my head into a bright red hood (my third) with a feeding gag and limited vision from pepperpot eyes, and fastened the collar around my throat before draping the bright red burqa over my head (he is SO enamored of monochromatic dressing). The outer hood has a built-in gag which has a tube passing through it for providing me with water. Both inner hoods have wide mouth openings. The tube from the gag can either be run under the burqa or actually passed through one of the perforations in the burqa's grill for attachment to a water bottle that I could suck from as I wished.
He had me feed my hands through the arm slits and then then manacled my wrists with an 18 inch length between them on the outside of the burqa. Another chain dropped from the one hobbling my wrists to the one hobbling my ankles, so I actually had two chains rising from my feet to my midsection, one beneath and one outside the burqa.
If this all seems a bit excessive, it is, but Sir enjoys having me bound like this. The chains are connected to each other with small padlocks, so he can configure them any way he wishes, including shortening my stride and reach.
By just removing the wrist to ankle hobble he then has me ready to go out in public, bound and hobbled under the burqa.
Next I went to the garage to retrieve my tools, a bucket, and a rubber padded kneeling board. I was able to move with some difficulty, but I have done this countless times before, so I was used to it. Thankfully, I have learned to place all my gardening tools at a fairly low height in our garage since I could not reach higher than my elbows at best.
Out into the back yard and around to the garden. I decided where to work first and placed the kneeler in front of a patch of flowers with some weeds growing out of it. Then I prepared to kneel and get to work.
This raises a question. How should a veiled lady kneel to work in a garden? Does one kneel on the burqa? Does one lift it and kneel on the dress beneath it? Or does one lift all the skirts and kneel on her skinsuit?
I recall Sister Justine at school kneeling on her apron which she wore over her habit. But my mother would typically raise her dress up and kneel on the garden kneeler with her bare knees.
I opted for the most conservative, kneeling on my burqa. This still required some fiddling, fluffing, and flouncing of both my skirt and the veil, all of which was limited in scope by my chains. But, ultimately, I managed to drop to my knees in an appropriate attitude of prayer to the vegetable gods.
As I worked, bent over my weeding and pruning, Sir took some inappropriate photos, mostly of my rear. But, he did capture a few of my red rubbered hands with their black rubber manacles, emerging from the red swirl of latex burqa to wield a small garden fork and the obligatory pair of secateurs. There is something slightly sinister about those pictures with red rubbered hands holding shiny steel bladed secateurs. Slowly, my bucket began to fill with unwanted grass, weeds, and stems.
My kneeler has upright handles on it and short spiky legs which bite into the soil on either side. This is important because I could twist and use one hand to rise when I needed to move to a different location. I could only reach the side with one hand at a time because of the manacles and chain, but I was fairly capable of independent movement.
Sir, dressed in a black rubber shorty catsuit (a one piece affair with short sleeves and bermuda length short legs), proceeded to work on his grill, paint the railing around our balcony and stairs, caulk some windows, and repair some cracks in the outer stucco of our house. It has been a very hot summer and the exterior of our home has suffered, but it is looking much better after his efforts.
He WAS kind enough to take my bucket away from me and empty it multiple times as I filled it. He kept an eye on me to be sure I did not overheat as well and made sure that I was drinking from the water bottle, through my gag.
We worked for about four hours before the sun crossed over the crown of our house and began to beat down on the back yard. It had been very breezy and was quite a pleasant temperature in the low 70's, but one certainly did not want to be working with any strenuousness once the sun was up and the air began to truly heat up in the afternoon.
About 1 pm, just as the sun was getting to be too much, Sir came over, raised me up and unhooked all my chains. He reached under the burqa and removed the collar and the burqa hood with its gag. The reduction in pressure was much appreciated. But I did not speak as we are in agreement that once un-gagged I will always wait to be told it is ok to talk.
He then proceeded to walk me over to a chaise, sat me down, and removed my red rubber boots then walked me gently down the steps into our pool. My burqa and my dress were still on and they floated out around me until I got them a bit more under control and under the surface. The water was still blood temperature. it will be several days before it loses an appreciable amount of heat.
We floated around a bit, my in bright red voluminous rubber veil and dress, he in tight black jumpsuit. Finally, he came over to me, slipped my burqa off and unzipped my dress and removed both, placing them on a patio lounger by the edge of the pool. Thank heaven he had specifically told me NOT to corset in the morning.
So here I was, after about 5 hours in multiple layers of total enclosure and encasement in soft, red latex and steel chain bondage, now virtually naked in just the red tinted transparent skinsuit, still technically covered head to foot in rubber, floating gently on my back in a cool swimming pool. At one point, Sir came over behind me and I floated on my back, eyes closed, while he stroked my bald head through the thin latex (as he still keeps my head shaved). I am not sure when the orgasms began, but they did not end for quite some time.
We stayed in the pool long enough to enjoy each other very, very well, then he took me inside and undressed me and put me in a cool shower and had me re-dress, this time in black for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Later, after sunset, we went out to a nearby Japanese restaurant for dinner.
All in all, a wonderful labor day spent in the garden!