Happy Wife, Happy Life (F/M, Femdom, Reluctant Consent, Foot Worship, Light CBT, Spinoff of Mom's Favorite Toy)
A few years ago, I wrote a story called "Mom's Favorite Toy" and said after posting it that I was working on a sequel. I was, but after writing most of it I've found myself kind of stuck with it and not terribly happy with it. I will finish it and post it at some point, but I've hit a bit of a wall with it, unfortunately.
But my struggles there did get me thinking a little bit. In the feedback I received on the initial story, I got multiple requests for the sequel to have the wife torturing the husband. My initial reaction was that I didn't want to write that and I didn't think it would work, but having had a few years to think about it, I've kind of come around on it as long as it's in the right context. So, I'm going to try my hand at that here, in this sequel, although I think spinoff is a more appropriate term. I acknowledge that it may not be exactly what some people were hoping for when they requested this concept, but if so, I hope it's at least close enough. Story takes place a few months after the end of Part One, call it 2035.
First, I'd recommend reading that first story before you read this one, as it will help make sense of the situation and characters in a way that this story doesn't fully re-iterate. However, it's not necessary if you only care about the fetish stuff. The disclaimers from that first story still apply, in that this story contains tickling but is more of an overall torture femdom story than anything else, and that there's a lot of setup and world-building since that's something I like. If you want to skip the world-building and the introduction, I'll use tags so you can fast forward to the actual fetish content. Bear in mind that looking at the part list below will spoil where certain fetish elements come into play.
This story is F/M Femdom, featuring Reluctant/Negotiated Consent, Foot Worship, Light CBT, and Roleplay. There is one scene of M/F but it's not a focus and is over fairly quickly.
Finally, not too long after I wrote the first story, I commissioned an artist to do a drawing of one of the scenes from it, and am going to attach that picture down below for your viewing pleasure. This artist did not read the story, and drew the picture based on my description of it and utilized some anime/video game characters that approximated the way I envisioned the character in the story, but I think it turned out great.
Part One: Riches To Rest - Introducing characters, giving some backstory, and setup [01RTR]
Part Two: What We Do For Family - Start of Roleplay, Femdom [02WWDFF]
Part Three: Flip the Script - Start of Body Tickling, Mild CBT [03FTS]
Part Four: The Agony Of The Feet - Start of Foot Worship, Foot Tickling [04TAOTF]
Part Five: In For A Penny - CBT [05IFAP]
Epilogue: From Hell's Heart - M/F Scene [EFHH]
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Part One: Riches To Rest [01RTR]
"So, how nice is it being able to eat sugar again?"
Michelle sat cross-legged on the foot of the bed, elbows resting on her knees, head propped up on her hands, looking down at her husband, laid out on the floor. Even though they had been together for well over two decades, looking at him and thinking about him never ceased to amaze her. Thinking about her life as a teenager, the things she did, the people around her, and her aspirations for her life, and comparing it to where she actually was in her late thirties was staggering.
For starters, there was her husband. Yes, she was a pretty girl in high school, on the cheerleading squad with no problem getting dates. But even at a relatively small Iowa high school, she wasn't the prettiest or most desirable. She very clearly remembered being surprised when she caught the attention of Jacob Scott, handsome star of the basketball team, easily the most popular (and tallest) boy around. And she was even more surprised when they stayed together when he started to get national attention as one of the best high school basketball players in the entire country, when he was recruited by the Dukes, North Carolinas, Kentuckys and Kansases (his choice) of the world, when his growth spurt only stopped after he reached up over seven feet tall, when he became a collegiate superstar who helped lead Kansas to the final four, when he got drafted third overall by the Orlando Magic and signed a contract worth tens of millions of dollars, when he, when he, when he, when he, the improbable accomplishments and achievements never ended. Even after they had gotten married shortly after he got drafted, some part of her was still waiting for the other shoe to fall, thinking that she'd eventually have to go back to an unremarkable life.
It never happened. Twenty years of marriage, and they had never waivered or faltered in any truly meaningful way. Six beautiful kids, billions of dollars, wise and timely investments, luxury condos, mansions, luxury cars, brand name clothing, designer shoes and purses, yachts, antiquities, you name it, they had it. Jacob had been immensely successful in the National Basketball Association, playing out a career of nearly two decades before retiring just a few months ago. A big man with a rare set of offensive skills, Jacob possessed tremendous touch and devastating moves around the basket, range to stretch the defense out beyond the three point line, rebounding instincts and savviness, and remarkable court vision and passing skills that made him so very hard to deal with. After spending the first half of his career with the Magic, he then took his talents to New York and was able to bring the Knicks (of all teams!) their first league MVP and championships in over fifty years. He had certainly earned his retirement in the lap of luxury, and planned to make the most of it.
Despite being an immortal legend in the city of New York, having been the man who ended the generations of suffering from Knicks fans, Jacob hadn't wavered from his desire to retire to his palatial mansion in Florida, having grown a fondness for living on the beach in the first part of his adulthood. He received no protest from Michelle or any of his children on that, as they all much preferred the tropical climate and relative peace of Florida over the unforgiving coldness and population density of New York as well. And so, the stage was set for Jacob and Michelle Scott to grow old together, watch their amazing children embark into lives of their own, and find something to do with their unfathomable wealth. Which might have sounded easy to do, but they had both been born and raised in the lower-middle class of middle America, and even after all these years being wealthy still didn't come naturally to them.
"I did miss cakes," Jacob admitted. "Real cakes, I mean."
"Yeah, I noticed," she said dryly, nevertheless giving a soft little smile down at him. He was laying down on the floor, face down, head resting on his folded arms, wearing nothing but a black pair of boxer shorts. For what felt like the millionth time, Michelle marveled at how much of a physical specimen he was. At just over seven feet tall, there were less than five thousand people in the world taller than him. Two hundred and sixty pounds, not quite as perfectly chiseled and sculpted as he was ten years ago but nevertheless muscular and well-built. Still handsome, even as he approached his forties. The winner of the genetic lottery, no doubt about it.
"Hey, it was a really good cake, what do you want from me?" Jacob asked. Michelle unfolded her legs and slid down to the carpeted floor, walking over to him. "Twenty years I haven't touched that stuff, I think I've earned the right. Twenty years with no pizza either, tell me I haven't earned it. That wasn't easy to hold off on."
Once it became clear that Jacob had a genuine chance to have a successful career as a professional athlete, he figured that he owed it to himself to maximize it as much as humanly possible, and had been on an extremely strict diet since college. Sugars, bad carbs, processed foods, anything that might affect him negatively was sacrificed. Now, having hung up his sneakers, he had eagerly been indulging himself in desserts, consuming nearly half of an entire cake by himself in one sitting the other night.
Michelle went down on her knees next to Jacob, reaching over to pump some white lotion into her right hand from a massive jar to her right. Slowly, she started rubbing it onto Jacob's long, muscular back, moving up and down the expanse of taut skin, a process that she had become very familiar with over the years. "I know, I know. You deserve it." She rose back to her feet after feeling satisfied with the application of lotion. She slowly placed her right foot up onto Jacob's lower back, reaching up and grabbing onto a thick rope dangling from the ceiling as she did. "Just be careful. You know what they say about tall people and heart failure, no need to accelerate it."
Jacob gave a little groan as Michelle brought her left foot up onto the middle of his back, now placing all of her body weight onto him. His body sank a bit into the cushion he was laying atop.
"Are my feet warm enough?" Michelle asked.
"Mmm," Jacob moaned. "It's perfect." Michelle went up on her toes, digging into his back with additional pressure focused into a smaller area.
Jacob and Michelle loved giving each other massages. With rare exception it was a required part of foreplay, and even though they could obviously afford a lifetime's worth of professional massages, they still preferred to do it themselves. And while Jacob's big, strong hands had no issue reducing Michelle to a barely coherent lump of taffy, Michelle's attempts to reciprocate felt more like a mosquito trying to penetrate steel. Ashiatsu, however, allowed her to use her entire body weight. Over the years, she had gotten very good at it, working through knots in his muscles like a professional.
"So, you think any more about my idea?" Michelle asked, dragging her heels along his trap muscles, pressing in deeply.
"What, the horse breeding thing?" Jacob asked, his cadence slightly off as he grunted underneath the pressure of her feet. Slowly, she started pacing up his back, moving up towards his shoulders.
"No, the...the other thing. The...the tickling thing," she said, trying to sound casual.
"Oh." He stirred a little bit. "I mean, I don't know. I don't think it's my kind of thing."
"How can you know without trying?" Michelle asked. "What's the worst that could happen anyway? It's not like I could actually hurt you."
Jacob grunted. "I've seen some of the things you come up with on your toys, I don't know if I agree with you there."
"Oh, I'd never go that far with you," she assured him. "And you could take it anyway, you're a tough guy."
"You know, you saying that doesn't make me feel very confident that you wouldn't go that far on me," Jacob pointed out, giving a pleasurable moan as Michelle used her toes on his shoulder blades. "I spent a fortune on that setup in the basement so I wouldn't have to do stuff like that. Something wrong with your toy?"
