Title: Her place in the Garden
Author: Phoenix Arrow
Part: 1 of 1
Keywords: F/F, public, object, humiliation
Redistribution: Only for personal, nonprofit use.
Short Summary: Career woman tries to show her doubtful 
neighbors that she can garden just as good as they can.


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Please, if you are under the age of 18, don't read this 
material. Just wait a few years and you'll be all good and 
legal for this kind of stuff. Now for the rest of you, Enjoy!

Phoenix Arrow - PhoenixArrow2000@yahoo.com

More Phoenix Arrow Stories Available at: 
/files/Authors/PhoenixArrow/
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"Her place in the Garden"
By Phoenix Arrow



The warm sun rained down on me as I knelt in my
garden. The fresh smell of flowers and bushes
combining with the peaceful tranquility of moving the
garden dirt around with my shovel.

As I squatted doing my daily morning chore, Cynthia
peered over her wood picket fence and gave a snort.

"Think she'll finish on time this go around?"

Florence looked me over, inspecting my progress before
checking her stop watch.

"Its gonna be close. She still hasn’t even put in the
Azalias."

Oh fuck I had almost forgotten about them. And the
rest of my gardening looked like shit!

"How much time has she got left before work?"

Florence giggled, "She'll never finish, she's only got
20 minutes."

Cynthia shook her head. "Definitely no time to shower
up. Good idea you gave her. Gardening in her work
cloths is efficient indeed." Both women gave out a big
laugh.

Well it was a good idea. Seeing how I don’t have time
to clean up and change it only makes sense to do my
gardening in my work cloths. And it was Florence's
suggestion, so why is it so funny?

"And she looks like just the little gardener all
dressed up! Well, ALMOST all dressed up!" Cynthia
chirped.

As the breeze flowed between my legs, cooling my
already wet puss I tried to ignore them. They both
knew dame well that not wearing my business pants only
made sense if your going to be working over dirt. 

I looked over to my suite pants, folded just where I
left them, beside Florence at the garden table, my
panties folded neatly beside them. Actually Florence
never did suggest I take my panties off as well, I
just assumed....

"17 minutes!"

Like an automation I turned my eyes away from Florence
and her stop watch and went back to work with renewed
fervor. I just HAD to finish this time.

"She doesn’t look like the big important business lady
kneeling in her blazer and heels now does she
Cynthia?"

"That big ass she's sticking out says otherwise."

Just then I could hear a far off distant french door
closing. I just knew who it was.

Margaret's head soon popped over the pink fence on the
other side. "Morning ladies! What a wonderful bright
day it is today."

A trickle of sweat rolled down my brow at the mention.
It was beginning to be bright, and hot.

"Hows our little house girl doing?"

Cynthia smirked, "Not good. She's only just begun
putting in the Azalias, and the rest of her work
leaves MUCH to be desired."

"Come on girl, you've got to really get in there and
get dirty. Show us house wives how 'simple and easy
we've got it!', as you put so eloquently." Margaret
berated as I took her advice and dug my knees into the
dirt.

"Its no use Marg," began Florence, "she's just not cut
for the domestic lifestyle. She's a big girl who
dresses up and gives orders all day. Isn’t that the
truth hun?"

I shook my head no while bitting my lower lip. I can
be both dammit. I can show them I can be an important
executive AND a house wife. I can tend to my garden AND
have a career. Just because these chatty domesticated
women missed out on a more important rewarding career
doesn’t mean I can't cut the hedges just as good as
them. Dame why are all these roots sticking out?

"Do you remember the attitude she gave us at tea two
weeks ago. As if we were nothing but throwbacks and
dimwits. Living out lives maintaining a house hold while
she makes a woman out of herself.", Florence
recounted.

Ok so I DID sound a little demeaning to them. But how
hard is it to tend to a garden? Try handling 6 digit
accounts. Owe, these things have thorns?

"Its been 10 days and she still cant even come
close to finishing her chore, let alone doing it
well!"

I looked up at my garden and wanted to cry. It was a
mess, a complete and utter mess. How can this be so
hard?

"And now look at her, scurrying around in the dirt
trying to prove herself. Its no use honey, you only
have 12 minutes left."

I tried to give Florence a stern look to leave me
alone but only managed to blush and quickly turned
away. How did she manage to talk me into this?

I welcomed a gust of wind, letting it roll between my
thighs just a bit to help cool off.

"And the funny thing is that she actually gets off on
it.", noted Florence.

Margaret craned her neck to get a better look, "Oh
thats nothing knew. She's been wet from the
beginning."

"But what I don’t get is why she does it?", Cynthia
wondered. "I mean sure she's an arrogant nose in the
air work alcoholic and am more than happy to watch her
humiliate herself like this but..."

"She knows she needs to be put in her place don’t you
honey?"

I clenched my wet inner thighs at the question. Dame
her.

"Did she just nod? She did didn’t she?" Chirped Cynthia
with glee.

"She knew dame well she cant garden for her life. Yet
here she is, every morning before work, dressed in her
high priced business suit, sans her pants and
scurrying around in her laugh of a garden as I time
her. She could leave any moment, but she's still
here."

My face was as red as my knees by now. Fuck her I can
get up and leave right now. I don’t have to put up with
these catty women.

I stuck my ass out further, hurriedly trying to put in
another Azalia.

"Come on girls, we must leave her be. She needs to
finish to show us how much better she is than us.
Maybe this time she wont give up and piss all
over...."

A roar of laughter erupted from the three watchful
women. My bright red face on full show.

"Go ahead house girl, water your garden again!"
Margaret hopefully commanded.

Not this time. I am so close to finishing. I can do
this. Screw them, I am a successful woman. I will
show them.

"7 minutes"

I feel my bladder swelling. No I cant. Don’t do this
again to yourself. Prove to them your better than they
are, instead of a complete and utter failure.

"Her husband doesn’t quite understand it all.",
continued Florence, "She even makes more money than
him don’t you?"

I nodded. But so what?

"She's such a ball buster at work he tell us. A real
tough cookie. Even after he put a picture of her
working half nude in the garden on her desk."

Oh the shame. 

"Its really such a cute pic, from behind, her turning
her head to the camera with the genuine of smiles as 
she squats over her plants, hand shovel in her hand, 
her naked tanned butt proudly on display. She looks 
even more ridiculous with all that natural hair 
sticking out. I guess such a busy business exec 
doesn’t have time for a trim."


I look down and acknowledged my hairy damp sex, pieces
of kicked up dirt clinging to it.

"4 minutes."

Margaret took a closer look at my progress, "You know I
think she might actually do it this time. She's almost
finished."

Cynthia had to agree, "Thats right, she on her last
Azalia. Come on girl, show us how its done!"

I felt a surge of pride. My audience was finally
beginning to see my worth. I can be a domestic just
like them. I am twice the woman they are. Four minutes
is plenty enough time to plant one silly flower.

Florence started to smirk as she watched me squat over
the last of the unplanted Azalia and as the other two
women giggled, let loose my full bladder. The women
began to applaud in mock laughter as I waddled around
my freshly planted flowers, watering them all the way,
tears of self sabotaging failure ruining my mascara.

Florence turned off the stop watch and leaned back to
observe the show.

When I finished I stood up, and small stepped my way
to Florence, who took my hand and patted it lightly.

"There there, its ok. Maybe you'll do better
tomorrow."

I nodded through my tears and let her remove the
shovel handle from my pussy, which I intentionally put
there, and then let her wipe off the two circular dirt
patches around my knees. Did she HAVE to clean them
with my panties?

My other two neighbors had long since gone, no doubt
off to do chores more successfully than I could ever
muster.

With my pants now back on, Florence lightly patted my
rump, wishing me good luck at the office.

"Now its time to go act like the big girl again, just
remember when you get back home that tonight is
laundry night."

As I walked out the door I groaned to myself. I'm just
sure she noted my knees slightly buckling.


"Her place in the Garden!"


The End!


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