Tklishwife
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- Dec 3, 2019
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This is all my husband’s fault. If he hadn’t posted that ridiculous video of me I’d never be in this position.
A bit of backstory...
A few weeks ago my husband was tickling me silly like he always does. Little did I know he had his iPhone recording our little rough housing. He thought it would be hilarious to post a video of me being tickled to Reddit...
Karma whore.
Well, not only was it the top of reddit, it’s circulating on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, even local media stations. I’m known everywhere as “The most ticklish wife on earth”. He loves the attention. I, however, am not so fond of it.
This wouldn’t be so bad except for one thing. I love to be tickled. I know, it sounds like a dream come true to love to be tickled and for the world to know me as the ticklish wife, but it’s a nightmare. I’ve worked my whole life to keep my love for tickling a secret. Not even my husband knows how much I love it. Well, love hate...you know what I mean.
“Are you ready?”
Before I can answer the giggles are bubbling out of me against my will. Damn it, why can’t I control myself?
“Wow, just a single finger on the inside of your arm causes you to burst into giggles. What do you think of this bondage set up? I personally love the way your elbows are bent to allow the most exposed access to your armpits imaginable.”
I have to admit this bondage is slightly terrifying... spread eagle on this x frame, but my arms are bent in at the elbows. He’s right, my armpits are so exposed...
Ok, this guy is fucking with me. I mean it’s pretty cool that it’s the dude from the Barenaked Ladies. This would all be better if we were tripping like Brian Wilson though.
“I can see you are shy about this. Just relax and have fun. And think about how you’re going to spend the nice chunk of money you’re earning.”
Ok rewind again...
So now that my husband has made me a ticklish celebrity, he’s been getting offers from people to pay to tickle me. Most of them were creepy, but this we couldn’t turn down. When he told me that Ed from the Barenaked Ladies was willing to pay 10,000 Canadian dollars to tickle me, I couldn’t say no. I guess he’s made more than $1,000,000 to drop that kind of money for an afternoon with me.
Ok, I need to relax. It won’t be that bad. And besides, he’s pretty cute.
I feel his finger creeping toward my right armpit. Oh my god please don’t go there first. There will be no coming back from an armpit tickle first. My giggles are already absolutely hysterical.
I can feel the laughter building up in my gut with each centimeter closer he gets to my kill zone. My armpits are top 4 for my ticklish spots, and I have no recovery once the flood gates open.
“You are just a giggle box!”
I’m glad he thinks I’m cute...
“So you seem pretty nervous about me going into these ultra smooth armpits of yours.” Ed says as he moves to hover both of his hands above my underarms. He sees right through me. Is my face giving it away? Or maybe it’s these stupid giggles when he’s not even touching me yet...
My thoughts melt away from me as he sinks all ten fingers into my horribly ticklish pits. I’m completely succumbed to the tickling, all I can do is laugh, but even that is hard to do. The laughter finally escapes after being trapped in my throat temporarily. All I can do is try to keep my laughter fast enough to escape before it’s behind and stuck in that horrible silent laughter hole.
He stops and I take the opportunity to let the residual backed up laughter release.
“I see I’ve found a hot spot.” The pause is very brief as he assaults my sensitive hollows.
Being tickled is like a roller coaster. It’s thrilling and exciting all while being terrifying. Certain spots elicit genuine fear. My armpits are one of those spots. I do everything to protect them. I hardly ever wear tank tops, and I’m genuinely too nervous to lift my arms above my head to reach something on a shelf at the store. I look and make sure no one is around before I do.
Ed’s fingers wiggle wildly in my armpits, moving in and out of the hollows, drawing circles, spidering around, or the worst one of all, raking back and forth like a claw. My laughter is somewhere between a hysterical banshee and absolute silence as he hits the most sensitive areas just right.
He continues the raking motion for an extended run where he gets my heaviest reaction. All that can escape are the gasps for air as I try to release the volcano of laughter trapped on the other side of my throat. I wish I could see his reaction, but I can’t open my eyes. They are clenched closed tight as they can be with tears pouring out of the corners.
My laughter takes on a new octave as he claws his way onto my ribs. Ten fingers savagely attacking my rib cage, digging and clawing. I thought there would be some relief from my armpits but this might be as bad if not worse.
He stops and looks down at me. I finally get a good look at my tormentor. His eyes are so blue. Who knew? But as soon as our eyes meet he is gone.
“But wait, where are you going?!” I shriek out. I don’t have eyes on him. I feel my shoes slipping off of my feet. Oh no, I forgot about my feet!
“So are your feet as ticklish as those underarms of yours?”
He said the word again. I hate the word ticklish. Anytime anyone asks me about being ticklish I can’t answer. I usually just try to play cool and move away from the subject to avoid the inevitable tickle test assault that always follows...
Now that he’s removed both shoes and socks I feel my predicament setting in. The cool air tickles my freshly exposed soles. They are always the most ticklish right out of the shoe.
The sound that exits my mouth is mad at best. One single finger up my super sensitive arch sends me into hysterics. I can hear a smile in Ed’s voice.
“Uh oh! I better go ahead and secure you a little more. I have a feeling you’re going to get a little wiggly.”
I feel my toes stretch back and lock into place. Before I can even think the begging bubbles out of my mouth.
“Please don’t! Please I can’t take it! Anywhere else please!
That was weak.
“Are you begging me to tickle you somewhere else? Do you really think that’s going to work?”
“It was worth a shot!” I say as cheery as possible.
“I’ll tickle somewhere else.”
I shouldn’t have said anything. I never know when to keep my mouth shut.
I feel ten finger tips plunge into the creases of my inner thighs. Literally my most ticklish spot. The one that makes me cry and beg and that makes me question my sanity for loving this weird form of stimulation.
My laughter peaks out quickly into silent laughter. All I can do is wait for his attack to lessen for a chance to let the belly laughs out. He stops.
“This spot or your feet?”
What kind of ultimatum is that?! I can’t choose! Why the hell would he leave it up to me?
He plunges back into my thighs.
“Feet!!!” I finally am able to scream out.
“If you insist! I’d love to tickle your feet.”
The feeling of having your toes pulled back to expose your feet fully is excruciating. Even the air tickles. There’s no mercy, no wiggling, just pure contact on all of those sensitive nerve endings.
His fingers are like electric as they rake across my terribly ticklish feet. Each scrape is like a jolt bursting through my whole body.
Ed continues his scraping for what feels like an eternity. I’m completely lost in tickle hell, my head full of putty. My body is out of my control, all I can do is give into the tickling until it stops.
His tickles turn to spanks. Ouch! Why is he spanking my feet?
“Not that your feet need to be anymore ticklish, but I’ve noticed that giving a little heat can add some spice.”
Oh my god is he always this punny?
This is it. The drop on the roller coaster. The one where you feel like you’re going to fall out and your stomach ends up in your throat. Where you scream and the scream gets trapped in the fear and the force that holds it back.
The sensation that followed was unworldly. I can’t quite explain how much it tickles when your feet are completely stretched taut, spanked, and then raked ferociously. It’s the most intense tickling I think I have ever gotten.
I think Ed felt bad as he stopped his assault and untied my toes.
“I think you need a break.”
I should say so. I can’t move. I’m just a limp noodle. Did he say a break? We aren’t done?
“A break?”
“It’s only been 15 minutes.”
To be continued
A bit of backstory...
A few weeks ago my husband was tickling me silly like he always does. Little did I know he had his iPhone recording our little rough housing. He thought it would be hilarious to post a video of me being tickled to Reddit...
Karma whore.
Well, not only was it the top of reddit, it’s circulating on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, even local media stations. I’m known everywhere as “The most ticklish wife on earth”. He loves the attention. I, however, am not so fond of it.
This wouldn’t be so bad except for one thing. I love to be tickled. I know, it sounds like a dream come true to love to be tickled and for the world to know me as the ticklish wife, but it’s a nightmare. I’ve worked my whole life to keep my love for tickling a secret. Not even my husband knows how much I love it. Well, love hate...you know what I mean.
“Are you ready?”
Before I can answer the giggles are bubbling out of me against my will. Damn it, why can’t I control myself?
“Wow, just a single finger on the inside of your arm causes you to burst into giggles. What do you think of this bondage set up? I personally love the way your elbows are bent to allow the most exposed access to your armpits imaginable.”
I have to admit this bondage is slightly terrifying... spread eagle on this x frame, but my arms are bent in at the elbows. He’s right, my armpits are so exposed...
Ok, this guy is fucking with me. I mean it’s pretty cool that it’s the dude from the Barenaked Ladies. This would all be better if we were tripping like Brian Wilson though.
“I can see you are shy about this. Just relax and have fun. And think about how you’re going to spend the nice chunk of money you’re earning.”
Ok rewind again...
So now that my husband has made me a ticklish celebrity, he’s been getting offers from people to pay to tickle me. Most of them were creepy, but this we couldn’t turn down. When he told me that Ed from the Barenaked Ladies was willing to pay 10,000 Canadian dollars to tickle me, I couldn’t say no. I guess he’s made more than $1,000,000 to drop that kind of money for an afternoon with me.
Ok, I need to relax. It won’t be that bad. And besides, he’s pretty cute.
I feel his finger creeping toward my right armpit. Oh my god please don’t go there first. There will be no coming back from an armpit tickle first. My giggles are already absolutely hysterical.
I can feel the laughter building up in my gut with each centimeter closer he gets to my kill zone. My armpits are top 4 for my ticklish spots, and I have no recovery once the flood gates open.
“You are just a giggle box!”
I’m glad he thinks I’m cute...
“So you seem pretty nervous about me going into these ultra smooth armpits of yours.” Ed says as he moves to hover both of his hands above my underarms. He sees right through me. Is my face giving it away? Or maybe it’s these stupid giggles when he’s not even touching me yet...
My thoughts melt away from me as he sinks all ten fingers into my horribly ticklish pits. I’m completely succumbed to the tickling, all I can do is laugh, but even that is hard to do. The laughter finally escapes after being trapped in my throat temporarily. All I can do is try to keep my laughter fast enough to escape before it’s behind and stuck in that horrible silent laughter hole.
He stops and I take the opportunity to let the residual backed up laughter release.
“I see I’ve found a hot spot.” The pause is very brief as he assaults my sensitive hollows.
Being tickled is like a roller coaster. It’s thrilling and exciting all while being terrifying. Certain spots elicit genuine fear. My armpits are one of those spots. I do everything to protect them. I hardly ever wear tank tops, and I’m genuinely too nervous to lift my arms above my head to reach something on a shelf at the store. I look and make sure no one is around before I do.
Ed’s fingers wiggle wildly in my armpits, moving in and out of the hollows, drawing circles, spidering around, or the worst one of all, raking back and forth like a claw. My laughter is somewhere between a hysterical banshee and absolute silence as he hits the most sensitive areas just right.
He continues the raking motion for an extended run where he gets my heaviest reaction. All that can escape are the gasps for air as I try to release the volcano of laughter trapped on the other side of my throat. I wish I could see his reaction, but I can’t open my eyes. They are clenched closed tight as they can be with tears pouring out of the corners.
My laughter takes on a new octave as he claws his way onto my ribs. Ten fingers savagely attacking my rib cage, digging and clawing. I thought there would be some relief from my armpits but this might be as bad if not worse.
He stops and looks down at me. I finally get a good look at my tormentor. His eyes are so blue. Who knew? But as soon as our eyes meet he is gone.
“But wait, where are you going?!” I shriek out. I don’t have eyes on him. I feel my shoes slipping off of my feet. Oh no, I forgot about my feet!
“So are your feet as ticklish as those underarms of yours?”
He said the word again. I hate the word ticklish. Anytime anyone asks me about being ticklish I can’t answer. I usually just try to play cool and move away from the subject to avoid the inevitable tickle test assault that always follows...
Now that he’s removed both shoes and socks I feel my predicament setting in. The cool air tickles my freshly exposed soles. They are always the most ticklish right out of the shoe.
The sound that exits my mouth is mad at best. One single finger up my super sensitive arch sends me into hysterics. I can hear a smile in Ed’s voice.
“Uh oh! I better go ahead and secure you a little more. I have a feeling you’re going to get a little wiggly.”
I feel my toes stretch back and lock into place. Before I can even think the begging bubbles out of my mouth.
“Please don’t! Please I can’t take it! Anywhere else please!
That was weak.
“Are you begging me to tickle you somewhere else? Do you really think that’s going to work?”
“It was worth a shot!” I say as cheery as possible.
“I’ll tickle somewhere else.”
I shouldn’t have said anything. I never know when to keep my mouth shut.
I feel ten finger tips plunge into the creases of my inner thighs. Literally my most ticklish spot. The one that makes me cry and beg and that makes me question my sanity for loving this weird form of stimulation.
My laughter peaks out quickly into silent laughter. All I can do is wait for his attack to lessen for a chance to let the belly laughs out. He stops.
“This spot or your feet?”
What kind of ultimatum is that?! I can’t choose! Why the hell would he leave it up to me?
He plunges back into my thighs.
“Feet!!!” I finally am able to scream out.
“If you insist! I’d love to tickle your feet.”
The feeling of having your toes pulled back to expose your feet fully is excruciating. Even the air tickles. There’s no mercy, no wiggling, just pure contact on all of those sensitive nerve endings.
His fingers are like electric as they rake across my terribly ticklish feet. Each scrape is like a jolt bursting through my whole body.
Ed continues his scraping for what feels like an eternity. I’m completely lost in tickle hell, my head full of putty. My body is out of my control, all I can do is give into the tickling until it stops.
His tickles turn to spanks. Ouch! Why is he spanking my feet?
“Not that your feet need to be anymore ticklish, but I’ve noticed that giving a little heat can add some spice.”
Oh my god is he always this punny?
This is it. The drop on the roller coaster. The one where you feel like you’re going to fall out and your stomach ends up in your throat. Where you scream and the scream gets trapped in the fear and the force that holds it back.
The sensation that followed was unworldly. I can’t quite explain how much it tickles when your feet are completely stretched taut, spanked, and then raked ferociously. It’s the most intense tickling I think I have ever gotten.
I think Ed felt bad as he stopped his assault and untied my toes.
“I think you need a break.”
I should say so. I can’t move. I’m just a limp noodle. Did he say a break? We aren’t done?
“A break?”
“It’s only been 15 minutes.”
To be continued
. I’m glad you liked it!
