Daily Quickie #134: Cheering Up Your Buddy

Ben sullenly skipped another stone, looking out at the bleak, overcast day. His parents were working, and his three best friends were all away. He knew Anthony was supposed to get back soon, but he forgot exactly when. And so, he decided to go down to the beach by his house to alleviate his boredom.

He turned around to hunt for another stone, but instead he saw his chestnut-haired friend, Anthony, coming over the hill. Ben’s face lit up as he scampered over to his buddy, tackling him in a massive bear hug. They both giggled as Ben’s momentum took them rolling down the dune towards the water.

The boys shrieked as a cold wave washed over them, leaving both of them soaking wet. Ben and Anthony ran back to Ben’s towel and huddled under it, trying to alleviate the cold. Ben turned to his buddy. “So how was Florida?”

“Pretty good.” Anthony replied. “We got to see my grandparents for the first time in a while, so that was fun.” Ben grinned. Anthony had told many stories about his grandparents, especially his grandfather’s penchant to tickle him silly. His favorite thing was when his grandfather would scoop him up by his ankles, pin them between his legs, and tickle his soles and toes until the little nine-year-old was squealing with laughter. It was quite an effective technique.

The boys chatted for a while, and Anthony noticed that Ben still looked pretty down. He had been pretty lonely for the last few days, and Anthony pondered how to fix the problem. And then, an idea flashed into his mind.

Anthony got out from under the towel and pulled off his shirt, grinning. Ben looked at him quizzically as the brunette boy stood in front of him, hands raised. “I’m all yours, Ben. I am your tickle prisoner.” Ben raised his eyebrows, before breaking into a wide smile.

“Your wish is my command.” Ben replied, poking two fingers into Anthony’s bellybutton and squeezing the small knot of skin within. Anthony squealed and collapsed in a limp heap, making Ben’s smile even wider.

A couple years ago, Anthony and his parents had discovered this strange reflex hiding in Anthony’s belly. The then-seven-year-old boy was pinned down to his bed while his mom tickled his tummy, bringing out adorable bubbly giggles. She began to poke his bellybutton, making him squeak and squeal. But when Jane drove two fingers into his little navel and squeezed the skin, Anthony squealed incredibly loudly and went limp as a noodle, staying that way for the next thirty minutes. Jane was concerned, and the two visited the doctor the next day to see if it was an issue. Mercifully, it wasn’t a problem, but Anthony’s family and friends loved to exploit it.

When Anthony finally regained use of his limbs, he discovered he wouldn’t be moving them for a while. Ben had buried his arms and legs in sand, piling it on so that he couldn’t wiggle free. Anthony tugged tokenly at his arms, knowing that he wasn’t going anywhere until Ben was good and ready to let him go.

Ben knelt next to his captive friend, resting his hands on the cute little belly. “Now, prisoner.” Ben said in a comically guttural voice. “Where are your possessions?” Anthony shook his head and giggled. “I’m not telling you that! You’ll have to figure it out yourself.” Ben was, of course, happy to do that, and dug his fingers into Anthony’s pudgy little belly, making him giggle adorably.

“I’m not stopping until you tell me, boy!” Ben cried, really attacking the little tummy now. Anthony was wiggling around in his sandy prison, unable to escape the maddening tickles occupying his tummy. He squealed as Ben poked his bellybutton, arching his back involuntarily. “Ohohohohohokayyyyyy! Iheeheehee’ll tehehehelll!” Ben sat back and grinned. “I thought so.”

“My backpack is just over the hill. You’ll find tickle tools and my towel in there.” Anthony panted, trying to regain his sanity before Ben resumed his ticklish torture. It didn’t take long before Ben returned with the little backpack, emptying the tickle tools and towel onto the sand.

“Let’s start slower, shall we?” Ben said, picking up a couple feathers and wisping them all over Anthony’s puppy fat-laced ribs. The captive brunette giggled at the nagging tickling sensation, quite enjoying the “torture” from his friend.

Ben set the feathers down, instead picking up two feather dusters and attacking Anthony’s stretched armpits. Now that was the full laughter that Ben wanted to hear. His little tickle prisoner was just bursting with belly laughs, worming around under the sand pinning him down. Ben dropped one of the feather dusters, picked up a backscratcher, and started dragging it up and down Anthony’s bucking and bouncing belly.

Anthony was just loving Ben’s merciless treatment of him. They had long ago established that mercy was only to be given when absolutely begged for, rules that Mark and Kyle had agreed to as well. And Anthony was in no mood to beg for mercy, and Ben didn’t want to give it to him. But now, it was time for the feet.

Anthony’s cute little feet had been tickled many, many times by his grandfather over the last week. But he was happy to have Ben terrorize them once more, and he started to laugh as Ben dragged his nails up and down the quivering soles.

Ben giggled. Tickling Anthony’s feet was just so much fun! He loved it, so he wouldn’t really try to get away, but he would squirm around like crazy purely out of reflex. But the sand pinning him down really prevented any kind of squirming, and now Anthony was laughing loudly as Ben teased his soft, sensitive toes.

Anthony’s toes were a favorite target among his family and friends, particularly Mark and Ben. Mark’s sharp little nails could wreak havoc on small toes, and they frequently did. In fact, Mark had just arrived home from vacation, and was thinking of heading over to the beach soon.

Ben finally finished tickling the cute feet, giving Anthony a much-needed break. Ben pulled out a marker and the boys played tic-tac-toe on Anthony’s belly, a frequent occurrence when one of the boys were tied up. Ben won, and as his prize, he got to squeeze Anthony’s little bellybutton whenever he wanted.

The victorious Ben stood, planting a foot on Anthony’s tummy and posing masculinely. He looked down at his little prisoner and smiled. “You know, you didn’t have to do this for me.” Anthony smiled right back. “I wanted to, you dork. You looked sad.”

Ben cocked an eyebrow. “It’s not wise to taunt your captor, you know.” He knelt and squeezed Anthony’s bellybutton, who squealed and went limp. Ben grinned, piling more sand on his limbs to keep him properly contained.

“I’m gonna take a nap now.” Ben said as he rubbed suntan lotion on Anthony’s belly. “Don’t you go anywhere.” Anthony giggled. “I wouldn’t worry about that.

***
Mark came down to the beach, towel in hand looking for his friends. What he saw exceeded his wildest dreams: Ben and Anthony sound asleep, Anthony already pinned under the sand. Mark slowly crept up to the snoozing Ben and began to dig a large hole. Mark tried to contain his giggles, knowing that Ben would soon be his!

Ben woke up and tried to stretch, but found that he couldn’t move his arms. His eyes snapped open, and he saw Mark lying next to his feet, which stuck out of the huge mound of sand burying him from neck to ankles. Mark saw he was awake, and he giggled delightedly. “Hey there, Ben!”

The now-captive Ben twisted around wildly, where he saw that Mark had now fully buried a still-snoozing Anthony underneath a massive pile of sand, and both boys’ feet were now fully exposed. It was pretty clear what Mark had in mind.

Mark dug his sharp fingernails into Ben’s little bubble toes, making the cute ten-year-old squeak and squeal with laughter. Mark’s small fingers could tickle little boy toes like no other, even their parents. Ben’s loud, bubbling giggles awoke Anthony, who was mildly surprised to discover Ben buried next to him, getting his toes mercilessly tickled by a cackling Mark.

Seeing that Anthony was now awake, Mark moved one hand over to Anthony’s wiggling toes and started to tease and tickle them as well. Now both buried boys were giggling and squirming from the tickles occupying their toes.

Mark was just loving it. It was rare for him to be on the giving end of tickles like this, since he was by far the smallest of his friends, so he would usually end up the one buried in the sand, getting tickled crazy. But he was a skilled tickler, and could drive the other boys crazy.

He teased their toes, and eventually the rest of the feet as well, for about half an hour before digging them free. Mark grinned. “You guys have fun?” Ben and Anthony looked at each other for about a second, before pouncing on Mark and pinning him to the sand.

Mark squirmed, but his friends’ pin was strong and he couldn’t escape. “Any last words?” Ben inquired sadistically. Mark’s only response was to stick out his tongue.

The blonde eight-year-old’s laughs rang out across the beach as his captors tickled him senseless. He would eventually surrender to them for the rest of the night, and would be carried back to Ben’s house to serve out his sentence.

He wasn’t untied until the next morning.

END