The Christmas Fig

by Ava Sinclair

  He’d learned about the art of figging almost by accident. Edward was far from the only man in London who spanked his wife, and one evening in the washroom at the club he’d overheard a gentleman complaining to another that his wife “clenched her bum” during a spanking.

  “Figging’s the cure for that,” his friend said, and went on to extol the benefits of ginger root as a supplement to correction. Peeled and inserted into the miscreant’s bottom, he explained, the bite of it was not only a separate punishment within itself, but made clenching the cheeks nearly impossible.

  With the thick outer skin cut away, the carved and peeled orange cylinder in Edward’s hand looked deceptively benign. He dropped it in his pocket and headed upstairs, ready to give his unexpected surprise to a wife whose lack of patience had tested his.

  He found her sitting in the window seat, her hands folded in her lap. She looked so miserable that for a moment he reconsidered. Sadness shadowed her features, and Edward knew she felt guilty for what she had done. But he realized that only the sternest correction would alleviate her guilt in this case.

  “Are you ready for your surprise?” he asked.

  “I told you; I don’t deserve one.”

  “And I told you that you did.” Edward shut the door behind him and walked over to the bed. “Come here, Millie.” He began to roll up his right sleeve.

  She stood hesitantly, her eyes on his. For a moment she said nothing. When she finally did speak, her voice quavered. “You know, don’t you?”

  He glanced up as he started to roll up his left sleeve. “You weren’t very careful when you rewrapped the muff and hat. The bow was off center. It’s hard to express my disappointment, but it may be lessened to know you only peeked at one gift. Did you look at just one?”

  He waited to see if she would compound the error by lying about what he already knew. She was honest, at least, shaking her head as she kept her eyes on the floor. At the sound of his sigh, she began to sniffle.

  “Save your tears, Millie.” Edward reached out and pulled her over his lap. “You’re going to need them.”

  She did not fight him as he gently raised the hem of her dress. As he parted the seam of her open-backed bloomers to reveal her bare bottom, he wondered if she realized how severely she was about to be punished. Most likely she was just steeling herself for a sound spanking, and at first, that’s what he let her think was in store.

  Millicent whimpered as her husband brought his hand down on her bottom with a stinging smack. But she held her position as he laid a twin on the other cheek. He offered little buildup this time, instead spanking hard and fast until after a few moments he felt Millicent begin to lose control. She was crying out and rocking back and forth on his lap, her legs kicking. He spanked harder until she began to sob, her breath coming in gasps. The bottom beneath his punishing hand shone bright red through the gap in her bloomers.

  Then he stopped. Millicent, still crying, looked back with hopeful eyes. “Is it over?”

  “No,” he said. “Now the real punishment begins.”

  “Real punishment?” she asked through hitches of breath. “What do you mean?”

  Reaching into his pocket, Edward pulled out the ginger root. “Do you know what this is?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s from the kitchen,” he said. “It’s a piece of ginger. And I’m going to stick it in your bottom.”

  “You’re going to...?” She tried to lift herself from his lap. “You’ll do no such thing!”

  But Edward had trapped her one leg between his now, leaving the other to flail wildly. Millicent’s movements caused the gap in her bloomers to widen, revealing more of her punished cheeks and exposing both her pussy and dusky little rosette of her bottom hole.

  “I most certainly am,” Edward said calmly. “You like surprises, don’t you? Since you’ve denied me the chance to surprise you on Christmas morning, I’m going to surprise you here and now by introducing you to a quaint little practice known as figging.”

  Before she could react, Edward put his hand between her cheeks and pressed the tip of the root against her twitching bottom hole. He tightened his grip, preventing her from moving.

  “Edward, you can’t! What? Why? Please stop!”

  He ignored her cries, keeping the steady pressure on her tightly furled posy. He did not force the root into her, but continued to gently hold it until the ring of muscles gave way and he breached her virgin passage with the ginger. Amid her animated protests, he began to work it in.

  “Take it out!” she cried, as angry now as she was tearful. “This is obscene! What is the point of this?”

  “To keep you from clenching your pretty bottom cheeks when I cane you,” he said.

  “Cane me!” Now her eyes were wide with fear, and then something else as the ginger root began to have its desired effect. “Edward… my bottom…” She began to wriggle on his lap. “Edward, it… it stings on the inside!”

  “Yes. It’s quite unexpected, isn’t it?”

  “Edward, please!”

  His reaction was to smack her bottom—hard. Her reaction was to clench her cheeks. Edward was satisfied when she howled in surprised pain, for the action only served to squeeze her inner walls tighter against the ginger, increasing the sting. Fat tears rolled down her face as she erupted into an infantile bawl.

  Edward continued to spank, keeping the blows hard but slower than normal. It was not at all unpleasant, watching his wife’s delectable bottom cheeks flatten and spring back into shape with each smack as she struggled to keep from clenching. She was a fast learner, quickly realizing that each clench only increased the exquisite torture of the ginger root protruding obscenely from her bottom hole.

  “On your feet now,” he said, and caught Millicent’s hands as they flew back in an attempt to extricate the root. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he scolded. “It’s going to stay in a while yet.”

  Standing up, he pushed his whimpering wife over the bed and shoved her skirt above her waist as he stripped off her bloomers.

  “Spread your legs, Millicent.”

  “Oh, Edward. Please!”

  He smacked her bottom hard, his hand catching the underside of her cheek in an uppercut that raised her onto her toes.

  “Spread your legs,” he said again. This time she obeyed and he stood back to appreciate the view. Between her reddened cheeks, the root protruded from her bottom hole. Millicent was obeying his order to keep her legs spread, but also trembling slightly as she looked back to see him retrieve his father’s old cane from a stand by the dresser. Edward kept his eyes on hers as he whipped it through the air, the swishing sound eliciting a little cry of fear from his penitent wife.

  “You’re going to get six,” he said. “And you’re going to hold still and not clench your bottom. If you do, I’m going to start over. So unless you want a severely striped bottom to go with that burning bottom hole, I suggest you take your punishment like a big girl. Perhaps if you can exercise a little self-control now, it will prove to you that you can exercise that same self-control when I’m not around.”

  “Edward,” she said. “I really am so sorry.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” he said, tapping her bottom with the cane. As he lined the implement up with the center of her bottom, he tried not to think of the cock stand he was getting. It made him feel a bit guilty; here was his wife sobbing with a piece of ginger stuck in her bum and it was all he could do not to fuck her. Beneath her plugged and burning bottom hole, her sweet pussy was opened like a flower, the petals slick. She had no idea how delectable she looked. He planned to tell her later. But at that moment, her correction was forefront in his mind. He drew back the cane and brought it down. Edward knew that Millicent had not been any better prepared for the bite of the cane than she’d been for the bite of the ginger. She clenched her cheeks involuntary, the dual agony making her hop from one leg to the other. Remarkably, she held her position.
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  “That was one,” he said, and tapped her bottom again. Millicent began to plead for mercy. His answer was a second blow of the cane.

  “Eiiieeeee!” She dropped down nearly to her knees, but at a barked order to stand quickly complied, hiking her bottom back out with what Edward realized was amazing effort. He did not make her wait for the third blow of the cane, which caught the underside of her cheeks. The bedclothes absorbed her cries as she buried her face in their softness.

  Edward waited for his wife to calm down before landing the fourth blow. This was just below the first two, and she took it well, without clenching. He praised her for this, but doubted she heard him through her cries. The fifth blow criss-crossed the first three welts, the angular strike likely the most painful, given her reaction. There was only one left now and this one landed just above the one Edward had aimed at the crease between her buttocks and thighs.

  Now Millie did break her position, sinking to her knees. Edward stood over her, watching as she rocked back and forth, cupping her bottom in her hands. Her shoulders heaved with sobs.

  He could not help but feel a bit of pity for her. He knew that opening the gifts was not the worst thing a wife could do. But he also knew that in an odd way she would have been disappointed in him if he’d not punished her as severely as she was surely punishing herself, for her cries were not just from pain but a deep sadness.

  Reaching down, he helped her up. Keeping one hand on her shoulder, he tipped her face up with a finger under her chin.

  “From now on, I only want to surprise you with good things. Do you think you can control yourself so that I don’t fail in that task?”

  “Oh, Edward.” Her words were barely intelligible. “I’m so sorry. I’m wretchedly sorry. How can you forgive me?”

  He sighed as he turned her around. Leaning over, he gently pulled the root from between her red and welted cheeks.

  “Oh, my dear,” he said. “I already have.”

  Chapter Five: The Good Wife’s Gift

  Millicent lay on her side, watching the snow falling outside the bedroom window. It was Christmas morning, nearly a full three days since the most severe punishment of her marriage and her bottom was just now beginning to lose the last traces of soreness.

  But the full effects of her transgression still weighed heavily on her heart. Edward had forgiven her, but she could not forgive herself no matter how hard she tried.

  “Merry Christmas!” Edward entered the bedroom carrying a tray with a teapot, two cups, and a plate of holiday pastries. It had become a private custom between the two of them to start each Christmas morning in this way. Millicent forced a smile.

  “First tea, then presents,” her husband announced, and her heart gave a painful lurch in her chest. Were it not for her betrayal, she’d be looking forward to a magical moment of being surprised by two incredibly heartfelt gifts. As her face fell, Edward seemed to read her mind and reached out to put a hand to her cheek. “What’s done is done,” he said. “No need to fret. Let’s try to enjoy ourselves today.”

  She nodded. “I’ll try. I am just so sorry to have ruined the day.”

  “It’s not ruined,” he said. “We’re happy, healthy, warm, and together.”

  “Of course you’re right,” she said, sitting up to take her tea. “And here I am, once again thinking selfishly instead of counting my blessings.”

  In the parlor, Millicent had Edward open his presents first. He was delighted with the things she’d picked out for him, praising her good taste as he gently kissed her.

  Then it was her turn. Millicent unwrapped each gift, touched anew by her husband’s care and generosity, although unable to express surprise. If anything, it hurt to see the things now; they were reminders of her selfishness, and although she’d learned a lesson about listening to her husband, she realized, staring at the presents, that there were some things she had to fix on her own.

  When tears began to run down her face, she felt a gentle hand on her arm.

  “What is it?” Edward asked.

  “Oh, my dear,” she said. “You have taught me to be a better wife, but I want more than that. I want to be a better person. And I have a way to start; I just hope what I need to do won’t be too terribly upsetting to you.”

  ***

  An hour later they were sitting in a hired cab parked on the side of a London street not far from where she’d shopped with Caroline. Millicent was wearing a blue dress with black velvet trim, a black cloak, and her new ermine muff and hat. She clutched her new doll under one arm.

  “Are you sure about this?” Edward asked.

  “Yes, I am,” Millicent said, and smiled at her husband as he opened the door of the cab.

  There was a layer of ice and snow on the side of the street, and she felt her husband’s protective hand on her waist as he guided her across to where a group of people was huddled around a barrel fire. Tattered coats were clutched around thin bodies, and faces were chafed with cold. But even in the midst of their struggle to keep warm, the group exchanged pleasantries and nodded politely to the smartly dressed couple approaching them.

  Millicent’s eyes scanned the group, and she felt her heart leap when she spied those she was looking for. Handing her husband the doll, she approached the coatless woman she’d seen the day she’d been out with Caroline. Today the woman had a tattered shawl around her shoulders and Millicent realized that she was also pregnant, although just barely starting to show.

  “I’d like to give you something,” she said to the woman, and removed her velvet cloak. The other woman stood speechless as Millicent draped it over her shoulders. Her surprise deepened when Millicent removed the ermine hat and placed it on her head before handing her the muff.

  “Miss, these are far too lovely to give away,” the woman objected.

  “In this case, knowing they will provide deserved warmth makes them even lovelier,” Millie said. “Merry Christmas.”

  “You’re a kind lady, you are.” The woman’s eyes glittered with tears of gratitude. “Bless you.”

  Millicent felt as if a weight lifted from her heart. But there was more yet to do. Turning to take the doll from her husband, she headed over to a little girl. Kneeling, she looked into the child’s large blue eyes.

  “I’ve seen you before,” she said. “You were at the toy store, looking at a doll. When I was a little girl, I had a doll that I loved very much. She brought me comfort in my darkest hours.” Now Millicent held her doll out to the child. “Every little girl needs a doll to cuddle. I want to give this to you.”

  The little girl looked up, her guarded expression indicating she wasn’t sure of how to react. She looked up at her parents, a young couple clutching hands. The mother swallowed hard, mouthed “thank you” to Millicent and nodded to the child.

  Having gotten permission, the little girl reached out and Millicent put the doll in the cradle of her small arms.

  “I love her so much already,” the little girl said. “I’m going to name her Emma.”

  “That is a lovely name,” Millicent said. “Almost as lovely as her new mama.”

  She stood then and walked back to Edward. Her heart, now unburdened, soared, and flew only higher when she saw the man she loved looking at her with an expression of adoration and pride.

  “You are an amazing woman,” he said once they were back in the cab. “I thought to teach you a lesson last night, my sweet wife, but I believe today I have learned one as well. Watching you give possessions you loved to strangers made me wonder if I could do the same. I find myself inspired by you. You, my dear, are full of surprises.”

  But Millicent had one more unexpected surprise for Edward.

  Back in their warm home, she was serving them tea when she nervously decided to confide in him.

  “I have something to tell you,” she said as she put down the cup.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “A confession of sorts.�
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  He arched an elegant brow. “Not something naughty, I hope.”

  “Frightfully naughty,” Millicent said, folding her hands primly in her lap, but while her posture was demure, her gaze was bold.

  Edward placed his cup on the tray. “It can’t be that naughty,” he said.

  “Oh, I’m afraid it is.” Millicent flushed a little now. “Is it bad that I… well… it hurt badly when you spanked me and put that awful thing in my bottom… but…”

  “Go on,” Edward said.

  “But last night I woke up. I was still sore, and reflected on it. And when I did, I felt such a need…”

  Edward was quiet for a moment. “What kind of need?”

  “An aching need.” She lowered her voice. “In my pussy. I wanted your cock in it, Edward.” Her hands flew to her mouth, as she felt mortification at having said too much. But she felt the need to press on before she lost her nerve, and so she did. “I so want to be good, Edward. But maybe I really am a bad girl.”

  Her husband stood and walked over. Taking her hands, he raised her from her chair.

  “My dear little wife,” he said. “I believe your desires are perfectly natural, and perfectly marvelous. In fact, I dare say this bit of information is a most unexpected gift.”

  “Gift?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”

  Reaching up, Edward began to undo the buttons of her dress. Millicent felt her nipples grow tight and hard as the backs of his hands grazed them.

  “Your pussy isn’t the only sensitive place I can explore, Millie,” he said. The look he gave her as he spoke was smoldering. “And your bottom cheeks and the sweet rosebud that lies between them are not just for punishment; there’s a different kind of pain I can show you, but one that leads to cries of pleasure rather than contrition.”

  Millicent could feel her pussy clenching, could feel the wetness start surging there. His words frightened her, but in a manner that excited her.