The TV shone its evening mediocrity across the low-lit den. My ginger beauty, G, lay stretched out over the couch. She had her head propped up on pillows and her ankles resting on my lap. I absently caressed her calves through the fleece leggings that she wore, eliciting a steady stream of contented sighs from her.

As the screen flashed its content at us, she watched it with semi-interest. I hardly noticed the program, though. Instead, my eyes focused on G's lovely bare feet that hung just over my knees. I wanted very badly to focus more than just my eyes on them. Ravaging them with tickles would have brought me immeasurable joy. But it would also bother her to no end.

Still, one time I couldn't help myself. I ran an errant finger along her sole and around her toes. Doing so wrought a squealing giggle and caused her to retract her feet from my reach. While both the feel of her smooth skin and her agitated reaction aroused me, my goal wasn't actually to upset her. So as she smirked accusingly at me, I assured her that I would resist the urge to tickle her again. Warily, she stretched back out and returned her attention to the show. I resumed my caressing of her legs, which soon relaxed her.

For several minutes, we lounged that way. I can't say that I wasn't happy because sitting there with my sexy lady was wonderful. And the soft but taut fabric that covered her legs felt luxurious under my fingers. But what I craved were her sensually supple feet that were tantalizingly close, yet all but out of reach if I wanted her to stay where she was. I did want that, but I also had other desires. And I knew I needed to act on them to make myself happy. So act on them I did, but with care and thoughtful planning.

Tentatively, I touched G's heel. She didn't react. Slowly, I moved my fingers up along her arch. But rather than the light, teasing touch I had used before to tickle her, this time I applied pressure. G turned to look at me. She neither laughed, nor moved her foot away. Those were good signs. But she also didn't look pleased.

"What are you doing?" she asked glaringly.

"Not tickling you," I said, wrapping my entire hand around her foot and proceeding to slowly, methodically massage it.

"Mmm," she said with a cozy grin.

"Does that tickle?"

"Uh-uh."

"Is it okay?"

"Uh-huh."

She turned back to the TV, still smiling. I kneaded both her feet, going from heel to toe, back down, and all around. Her earlier sighs grew into outright moans. She stretched, flexing her toes and moving her feet more firmly into my warm, comforting grasp. Her enjoyment made me very happy, and I was more aroused than ever. But to get what I really wanted, I needed to be patient.

I continued to massage her feet, while alternating my gaze between them and her face. She remained focused on the show, but as the minutes passed, I noticed a comfortable drowsiness had settled over her. For a little while longer, I kept up the massage. Then, without saying anything, I changed it up. I gently brushed her soles with my knuckles and looked to her for a reaction.

"Mmm," she said.

With affirmation that my motion hadn't tickled her, I repeated it. She moaned approvingly. So I changed the massage to a more gentle rub, mainly with my knuckles and the backs of my fingers. Her smile grew, and her moans lengthened.

"That feels so good," she said. "But I'm sleepy. Maybe I should go to bed."

"Why get up? You look comfortable. Who cares if you fall asleep here?"

She nodded, inhaled, and closed her eyes. My hands rubbed up and down her soles--up and down, up and down, over and over. Her eyes remained closed, and her body slowly went limp. Still I rubbed her feet.

"G, can you hear me?" I asked after another couple of minutes.

Her eyes fluttered, and her head turned towards me.

"No, no," I said soothingly. "Don't wake up. Stay asleep. Stay asleep."

G sighed, but her eyes didn't open. I kept up my rhythmic brushing of her soles.

"G, I want you to listen to me as you sleep."

"...Okay," she said softly.

"That's right. Listen to me. But don't wake up. Stay asleep. And listen."

"...Listen."

"Do you like me rubbing your feet?"

"...Yes."

"Do you want me to keep rubbing them?"

"...Yes."

"I will, G. I'll keep rubbing them. And as I do, they're going to become less ticklish."

"...Less ticklish."

"Every second your feet will become less and less ticklish until, soon, they won't be ticklish at all. Now, G, your feet aren't ticklish at all."

"...Not ticklish at all."

I removed my hands from her feet. Then I took a finger and ran it lightly along her sole and around her toes. She had no reaction. After waiting for a few seconds, I ran my nails along her arch. She didn't move or protest. Finally, I went at on her feet full on. Nothing happened.

She had accepted my suggestions and was following them to letter. My patience had paid off. Now it was time to have some fun.

"G, your feet have become very ticklish."

"...Very ticklish."

"You are also tied up. Your arms and legs are immobilized. From neck to ankles, you can't move."

"...Can't move."

"Whatever you feel, though, you won't wake up. You'll stay asleep until I tell you to wake up."

"...Stay asleep until you tell me to wake up."

Once again, I went at her feet full on. She drew in a sharp breath, then sputtered out a squawking laugh. She squirmed against bindings that weren't there but stayed firmly in place. Only her feet went crazy, jerking back and forth beneath my frenzied tickling. I kept going, and she kept laughing. It was gloriously fun. But after a little while, I'd had enough. Now it was time to get what I really wanted.

"Relax, G. Relax."

"...Relax."

"You are no longer ticklish."

"...No longer ticklish."

"You are no longer bound and can move freely."

"...Move freely.."

"Every time I touch your feet now it will feel heavenly."

"...Feel heavenly."

Gently, soothingly, I caressed her feet. She moaned in delight.

"When you wake up, G, you're not going to remember any of this."

"...Not going to remember any of this."

"You're only going to remember that my foot massage felt so good and relaxed you so much that you fell asleep."

"...Felt so good and relaxed me so much that I fell asleep."

"For the rest of the night, your feet will be extremely sensitive in a good way."

"...Extremely sensitive in a good way."

"Any and everything that touches them will feel so good."

"...Feel so good."

"Especially my skin. You'll want very much to feel my skin on your feet."

"...Your skin on my feet."

"And not just my hands. All parts of my body."

"...All parts of your body."

"More than you'll want me to touch your feet, you'll want to touch me with your feet."

"...Touch you with my feet."

"Not just want, though. You'll desire it. Crave it."

"...Desire it. Crave it."

"Very good, G. Now, when I snap my fingers, you're going to wake up."

"...I'm going to wake up."

I snapped my fingers. Once again, her eyes fluttered. This time, though, they opened. She took a breath, then looked up at me.

"I fell asleep," she said with a smile.

"Yes, you did," I said, smiling back.

"That was one relaxing massage!"

"Why, thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Oh, I most certainly did," she said. "It felt amazing. My feet still feel great."

"Do they?"

"Uh-huh. And do you know what I think?"

"No, what?"

She slid up just a bit, so that her feet, rather than her ankles, rested on my lap.

"I think I should show you how great my feet feel," she said.

Acting on my suggestion, G desired to feel my skin with her feet. But at the moment I was wearing pants. Never one to disappoint me, she then demonstrated just how deftly agile her toes were. Buckle, buttons, and zipper were no match for them.

A moment later, when I was as bare as her feet, she gave me exactly what I had wanted all along.