Page 2 of Spicing It Up

“I took great care choosing it,” Sir said. “There were lots in the box but I wanted that one.”

“Oh…” She held it up, wondering what was special about it.

“Yes. It’s going to be just right.”

“But we don’t have a course that needs ginger in it, Sir.” She was confused—prawn cocktail, steak and New York cheesecake weren’t ginger-requiring dishes.

“I have something that requires ginger in it,” he said, sweeping his tongue over his bottom lip and narrowing his eyes.

His tongue had left a faint sheen and Cassandra wished she could lick it off. But she couldn’t, their guests would arrive in twenty minutes. If she got him more riled up, in the mood, that wouldn’t be nearly enough time for fun. Not to mention she needed to get dressed very soon.

“What is that, Sir? That requires ginger in it?”

“Guess.” He took a small knife from the drawer and began to peel the fibrous root.

The spicy scent drifted toward Cassandra, making her think of Christmas and mulled wine and dunking biscuits in tea after long walks through the woods.?“I don’t know if I can guess, Sir.”

He set the now peeled root on the chopping board. He began to carve and sculpt, shaping the ginger and removing all but the longest protrusion. “Well?”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” She shrugged and shook her head. “I really don’t know.”

“What does it remind you of?”

“A… A carrot?”

“Yes, I suppose it does. But I didn’t mean another vegetable. I meant what does it remind you of that I have in my special cupboard.”

Special cupboard?That was where he kept floggers and whips, bondage straps, ball gags, vibrators, wands, lubes, handcuffs, butt plugs… Butt plugs.

She swallowed—her throat suddenly tight. Yes, that’s what it reminded her of—a butt plug. He’d carved it to the same conical, tapered shape. It even had a ridge at the bottom that would, if insertedthere, stop it going too deep.

“Good girl,” he said, tipping his head and smiling. “You’ve got it, haven’t you?”

She nodded. “Yes, it’s a butt plug, isn’t it, Sir?”

“Yes. It is.” He held it up to the light and spun it in his fingers. Its moist surface shone and a few fibrous strands hung from it. “And, my darling girl, it’s going to heat you up from the inside out in the most delightful way.”

“But…”

“There is no but.” His voice was stern. “Now go and get dressed. Our guests will be here soon. Wear your red dress and put your hair up. I’d like to see those new earrings too. The ones I bought you from Oxford Street last weekend.”

“Yes, Sir.” She nodded and watched as he placed the ginger on a small flowery plate and set it on the windowsill. Was he really going to just leave it there? While they had guests in the house? Yes, of course he was. Their friends wouldn’t suspect for one moment that her husband had carved a butt plug out of ginger root, and that he intended, as soon as they’d stepped from the house, to ease it into her behind.

Would they?

She turned and went quickly to her bedroom. They lived in a bungalow so it was only two doors from the kitchen. Once inside she could still smell the onions and the ginger but the quiet and the dim light gave her time and space to think.

‘Heat you up from the inside.’

Cassandra wasn’t naïve, she knew full well that the root would be like having Tabasco sauce on her asshole. Ginger was hot, spicy—it would make her burn. If she touched her eyes after chopping it, then they stung like hell. She’d made that mistake once before and the sensation had been akin to chili.

All she could do now was hope that her Master knew what he was doing. That he’d researched this evening’s entertainment thoroughly.

Of course he has.

She trusted him entirely. Sir would never do anything to give her bad pain. The ginger would likely feel incredible. It would send her soaring into ecstasy and he’d probably fuck her mouth or her pussy while it was inserted.

Oh yes, that sounded good. More than good. That sounded like something well worth looking forward to.

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