Believe it or not, I never even knew Janine was ticklish until we’d been married almost a year. I don’t know if you could say the discovery changed our sex life, but it certainly added a new dimension to it.

The fun began one night when she came home from a late shift at the café. Things had been busy for her recently — with a part in a new play and waitressing on top of that — and she was exhausted. She flopped down on the couch next to me and slid her feet into my lap.

“I sure would love it if some handsome guy gave me a foot massage,” she murmured.

Even in her waitress’s uniform, she looked sweetly seductive. Janine is tall and slim, with legs that seemingly go on for miles. That night her platinum blonde hair was tied back in a simple ponytail, but her makeup — dark lipstick and blue shadow that accented her big round eyes — looked freshly applied. I wondered if that was for my benefit.

In any case, I didn’t need to be asked twice about the massage. I have a bit of a foot fetish, so my rubbing her feet has always been a mutual pleasure for us. I slowly unlaced the running shoes she wore to and from work and slid them off, along with her white cotton socks. Janine’s feet are much like the rest of her: long and slender. She also has high arches, like a dancer. She’d taken to getting her toenails painted bright red, which made a striking contrast with her fair complexion. I slid my fingers over her warm skin, and she gave a little squeak as her toes clenched up.

“Ooo! Hey,” she with a giggle. “Watch it.”

“Ticklish?”

She stuck her tongue out at me.

“No! I’m just a little sensitive.” She prodded my belly with her toes. “I’m not ticklish at all,” she insisted, a distinct challenge in her voice.

As a trained actress, Janine knows exactly how to channel her inner brat, as she calls it. I’ve always found it exciting when she slips into this persona, all the more so since “the brat” is, at heart, a true submissive.

“We’ll see about that,” I said, curling my arm around her ankles and holding them tight to my side. I was now in possession of two lovely, helpless bare feet. I glanced back over my shoulder. Janine’s defiant smile faded, and she was biting her lip apprehensively. The poor thing was probably wondering what she’d gotten herself into.

I ran the tip of my index finger down her sole from the base of her toes to her smooth heel. She behaved as if a mild electric shock went through her body; she shuddered and grabbed reflexively for the sofa cushions. Taking advantage of her reaction, I quickly brought my other fingers into play, spider-walking them over her arches and the tender balls of her feet. That was enough to send poor Janine into a real tizzy, squealing and giggling as she beat at my shoulder.

“Stop it!” she laughed unconvincingly. “Cut it out, you big meanie!”

I have to admit, Janine’s thrashing and squeals were turning me on. My cock was getting hard in my trousers, and I could tell from the flush in her cheeks and the way she gasped that Janine was excited as well.

“I want you to be quiet,” I told her sternly, holding my fingers threateningly over her sole. “I’m going to tickle your bare feet for a whole minute, and I don’t want you to laugh once during that time — not even a giggle.”

“But what if I can’t hold it in?” Janine pouted.

“Then I’ll tie you up and really work you over — with a feather!” I gloated. It was all very silly, but something about the situation was getting me seriously worked up.

“OK,” she said in a little voice, her lips curving into a sexy smile.

I went to work in earnest, tugging Janine’s ticklish toes and lightly scratching at her tender soles. Holding on to Janine was difficult. She managed to go most of the minute without laughing, but she wasn’t able to keep from squirming and bouncing on the sofa like a bucking bronco.

Finally I had mercy on her, rewarding her with a luxurious foot massage. She purred and sighed through the whole thing, but I knew tickling was a discovery we’d be returning to in the near future.

Sure enough, the very next day I ordered some restraints from an online adult boutique, along with a few other choice items. They arrived in time for the weekend, and I texted Janine a photo I’d found of a cute blonde, bound and laughing helplessly as feathers were drawn over her bare tits.

Under the picture, I typed the message: “That’s you, tonight.”

A moment later, her reply came back: a simple “Ooo!” accompanied by a smiley emoji.

By the time Janine got off her shift that evening, we were both as hot as hell and barely able to wait for the fun and games to begin. I led my wife into our bedroom and signaled for her to undress as I shucked off my shirt and pants. Janine smiled sweetly as she displayed her body to me, fully embracing the role of my tickle-slave for the evening.

“Are you gonna tickle me real bad, Master?” she whispered, lying back on the bed while I fastened the padded cuffs around her wrists and ankles. Each restraint had already been secured to a bed post, so when I was done, Janine was well and truly helpless.

“I’m going to drive you absolutely crazy,” I promised, kissing one pert nipple. “But I want you to be a good slave and hold your laughter in, understand me? Remember, I know all your worst spots — and your best. If you disobey me, you’ll be punished in the worst way. But if you’re good, I’ll take you to heaven.”

I was wearing black thong underwear that barely hid my balls and rigid cock. I climbed atop Janine and immediately went to work tickling her firm tummy with soft strokes of my fingers. Janine’s back arched, and she hissed through gritted teeth.

“It tickles so bad, Master!” she squeaked. “Oh God!”

“No laughing,” I whispered, reaching for her underarms. “You want your reward, don’t you?”

I found it difficult to resist tugging down my thong and sliding my cock into Janine’s overheated pussy, but tickling her offered delicious compensation. It was incredible to have this beautiful creature at my fingertips, wriggling and gasping at my least gesture. Her blue eyes pleaded with me to fuck her, but I knew there was more fun to be had.

Finally, when I realized she was dangerously close to breaking down in laughter, I grabbed a container of honey dust I’d set out on our nightstand. The “dust” was a flavored and edible powder that could be applied to sensitive skin with a fluffy feather brush. I “dusted” poor Janine from her tits and pits down to her ultra-ticklish bikini line. She immediately began squirming, her lips bowed up in a helpless smile — but she didn’t laugh.

I bent over her, closing my mouth over her hard nipple. I sucked that sweet little nub of flesh with all the energy I could muster, pulling at it with my lips until Janine groaned out loud — then uttered a little scream. Had the suction I applied to her breast made her come?

I lapped at her honeyed tits until they were both wet and sticky. At the same time I ran my fingers up and down her ribcage, occasionally paying visits to her deep, warm pits. All the while I was rubbing my fat, silk-sheathed dick against the slit of her pussy, making her cry and beg. The sounds she was making were incredible. Her expression was that of a beautiful angel trapped between heaven and hell. Her blue eyes were wide and unseeing, flickering over the bedroom ceiling as her red lips worked soundlessly. Her nerves were firing all at once, sending messages of intense pleasure and unbearable ticklishness.

I moved down to the foot of the bed, creeping backward until I was in a position to give her sopping pussy a thick coating of honey dust. A second later I was devouring it, tantalizing Janine’s plump labia with firm strokes of my tongue while seeking out her hooded clit. Her entire body moved with mine, her ass gently lifting and falling on the sweat-soaked sheets. I could feel her wanting to come, every part of her body focused on following my lead to paradise.

But I had other plans for my ticklish slave. At the very last moment I moved my mouth to her left ped, nibbling her toes and gnawing at the soft ball of her foot. That did her in completely; she shrieked and then broke down into maniacal, sobbing laughter.

“Stop! Oh God! Don’t … not my feet. You know I can’t stand it on my fee-hee-heet!”

I could tell from her voice she was coming like a madwoman. I’d wondered if I could bring her to climax just by licking her bare feet. Well, now I knew.

I didn’t show her mercy for a good ten minutes. I sucked each of her toes in turn and treated her sole to a long, torturous licking, running my tongue over it like a contented cat lapping up a bowl of milk. Occasionally, I pressed the heel of my hand against her clit, effortlessly bringing her off again and yet again. All the while Janine wailed and hissed, and finally purred.

By that point, her entire body was relaxed, all but melted into a puddle. I undid her bonds and then climbed back on top of her, carefully easing my cock inside her. After the teasing I had just put her through she was ravenously hungry for my dick. Soon she was dragging her nails over my back and shoulders as she took me in, grinding her hips against mine. She milked me effortlessly with her inner muscles, her pussy drinking in my load as she shook and growled against me.

We lay there a long time before she nibbled at my ear and teased, “I could have killed you when you started on my poor feet again.”

“Oh, yeah?” I smiled lazily.

“Mmm, it was absolute torture.” Her tongue traced the outline of my ear, expertly making my cock hard once again. “I thought I was going to lose my mind. Do me just one favor, OK?”

“Anything,” I breathed.

“Do it again,” she whispered, before sinking her teeth into my earlobe. “Tie me up and do it again. Right now.”

How could I resist a request like that?