Pirate Treasure (f+/F)

[Janbound]

As Easter passes, a story for the summer to come, we hope.

"Alright, you little rascals, have fun but watch the sun." Carol called out, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "I've got my eye on you." The screen door slapped shut behind her as she stepped back into the kitchen to clear away the remains of lunch, the tiles cool under her bare feet in contrast to the heat of the day on the sunbaked flags of the patio.

The children's laughter grew louder, echoing through the open windows. They'd discovered an old treasure chest filled with costumes and props from their parents' long-forgotten play days. The pirate hats and plastic swords had transformed them into swaggering buccaneers.

The youngest, Sally, aged six, had donned an oversized hat that kept sliding down to cover her eyes. Despite this, she managed to lead the charge into the kitchen, her plastic sword raised high. "Arrr, Grandma Carol, where be the treasure?" She demanded, her voice squeaking with excitement.

Her cousins, Jane, Emily, and Sam, who were closer to eleven, couldn't help but snicker at her bravado. They followed her in, their own weapons flashing in the afternoon light that streamed through the kitchen windows. The sound of their bare feet slapping the tiles was a silent symphony of mischief.

Carol looked up from the dishes, a wooden spoon in hand, and raised an eyebrow at the quartet of pirates. ”Avast me hearties. What be the treasure ye seek" She challenged with a playful smirk, her voice taking on the gruff tone of a salty sea captain. The kids froze for a moment, surprised by her quick transformation into a formidable opponent.

“Those chocolate chip cookies!” Cried Sam.

“Aye, the sweet booty from yesterday’s bounty!” Echoed Emily, her eyes lighting up with greed.

The kitchen erupted into a flurry of plastic clangs and shrieks of laughter. The children lunged at Carol, their swords flashing in the air. She deftly parried their attacks with the wooden spoon, her movements surprisingly nimble for a woman of sixty. The kitchen was a whirlwind of pirate hats and waving swords, and kne wooden spoon, until carol was pinned against the pantrybdoor with a plastic sword against her throat.

"Alright, alright, I surrender!" She exclaimed dramatically, raising her hands in mock defeat, but still,clutching her wooden spoon cutlas. The children's eyes grew wide at the prospect of cookies. They nodded vigorously, and Carol chuckled.

“We have to keep,her out of the way!” Shouted Jane.

“Aye, tie her to the mast!” Sam exclaimed.

“But we don’t have a mast!” Sally protested, her hat tilting dangerously as she peered around the kitchen for something suitable.

Emily's eyes lit up with an idea. "The tree outside! We can tie her to it!" She dashed out the back door, with Jane hot on her heels, leaving Carol to chuckle at their enthusiasm as the remaining two peodded her neck and tummy with plastic sword until she dropped the spoon.

Emily and Jane returned with a spool of thick rope they had found in the garden shed. With surprising efficiency they tied Carol”s hands behind her back and wrapped another rope round her upper arms and chest pinning her arms to her sides before marching her out at the point of a plastic cutlas.

The sun was a merciless ball of fire in the cloudless sky as they marched Carol out to the old oak tree in the backyard. The heat was intense, but the shade of the tree offered some relief. The rough bark was a stark contrast to her soft skin as they secured her to the trunk, squeezing her arms but leaving enough slack so that she could sit on the ground, her legs stretched out in front of her. As soon as her bottom hit the grass Emily and Sam jumped on her, binding her ankles and knees together even if there was nimchnace of her moving away from the tree.

Carol couldn’t help but chuckle at their earnestness. "Arrr, ye scurvy dogs, I've been captured!" She said with feigned despair. The children giggled and poked her in the ribs with their swords, their excitement palpable.

Jane, the ringleader of the bunch, dashed back into the house and reemerged with a red and white polka-dotted pirate scarf. She approached Carol with a grin that was half excitement, half mischief. "We can't have you shouting for help, can we? Or calling us scurvy dogs." She said, looping the scarf around Carol's head and tying it tightly over her mouth.

Carol's eyes sparkled with laughter as she tried to mumble a protest, the scarf muffling her words into indiscernible sounds. The children giggled, their eyes shining with the thrill of their game.

Once she was securely bound, they stepped back to admire their handiwork. Sally tugged on the ropes to ensure she couldn't escape, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "Now, Grandma can't stop us from getting the treasure!"

Carol rolled her eyes, the scarf moving slightly with her words. "Mmph mmph!" She exclaimed, her voice muffled by the scarf. Her eyes danced with laughter as she watched the four little pirates scurring back into the house, their bare feet pattering on the kitchen floor. They reached the cookie jar, which sat on the counter like a beacon of sweet victory. With a triumphant "Arrr!" from Sam, they yanked it open, and a delightful aroma filled the room. The cookies looked perfectly golden, their chocolate chips like precious jewels in a sea of sweet dough.

They grabbed handfuls of the treasure, their eyes widening in delight as they stuffed their mouths full of the warm, gooey goodness. The crumbs rained down like confetti, and they giggled around mouthfuls of cookie, sharing secret looks that said they had truly outsmarted the enemy. The jar grew lighter as the cookies grew fewer, and their eyes grew greedier. They devoured the entire batch, leaving not even a crumb for their grandma to taste.

Satisfied with their plunder, they turned back to the kitchen window to revel in their victory. Through the glass, they saw Carol wiggling against her restraints, her eyes glinting with amusement as she watched them. She managed to tip her head back and make muffled sounds of protest, her cheeks bulging with laughter beneath the scarf.

Emily couldn't resist poking her head out of the window. "Arrr, Grandma Carol, we've taken your precious treasure!" She taunted, holding up a cookie in a mocking toast before popping it into her mouth.

Sam looked at the others, a devilish twinkle in her eye. "I say we tickle her to make her confess where she's hidden the rest!"

The other three children exchanged glances, then grinned. It was a brilliant plan, they all thought. They raced back outside, their laughter trailing behind them like a wild storm.

"Arrr, Grandma Carol, we're going to tickle you until you tell us where you've hidden the rest of the treasure!" Sam announced with glee, her eyes alight with the thrill of the game.

Jane nodded solemnly. "We must be thorough, mates," she said, "or she may hold out on us."

Emily took a step back, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Aye, Captain Sam, we shall proceed with the tickling torture!" She called out, her voice a mix of mock seriousness and laughter.

Carol's muffled giggles grew more pronounced as she watched the quartet of tiny pirates approach her, their faces flushed with sugar and victory. She wriggled in the ropes, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Arrr, berare eee arth og andarr arrrol!" She warned, though the scarf turned her words into a series of unintelligible sounds. They paid her no heed, their laughter bubbling over as they took their positions around her.

Sally approached with a feather from one of the costumes, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She gently began to tickle Carol's bare feet, and Carol's body jerked in response, her laughter muffled by the scarf. "Mmph, mmph!" She squirmed, her toes curling and uncurling as the feather danced across her soles. The children's giggles grew louder, encouraged by their grandma's squirms.

Emily and Jane couldn't resist joining in. They pounced on her with their own weapons of choice—spiky twigs they had found in the garden. The twigs' light touch sent shivers of laughter up Carol's legs, and she wriggled even more. "Mmph mmph, arrr, arrr!" Her muffled protests grew more frantic as their tickling grew more intense.

Jane grabbed the feather from Sally and swiped it along the bottoms of Carol's feet, her own giggles uncontrollable as she watched her grandma's face turn red with laughter. The children's eyes danced with excitement, their grins stretching from ear to ear as they worked in unison to torment her. The feather's gentle tickles combined with the roughness of the twigs was an exquisite form of torture.

Sam found a stray piece of grass and added it to the mix, brushing it against the arches of Carol's feet. She squealed behind the scarf, her body jerking in spasms of laughter. The children took this as a sign to intensify their efforts, their own laughter rising in pitch. They took turns, each adding their own flair to the tickling, using their fingers, the feather, and the twigs in a symphony of sensations that had Carol squirming and giggling uncontrollably.

Her feet were sensitive, and each touch, no matter how light, sent waves of pleasure-pain through her. They moved on to her ribs, their tiny fingers poking and prodding, the feather tickling the soft skin of her arms and neck. Carol's eyes watered with mirth, her muffled sounds of protest growing more frantic. The children's laughter was like music, a sweet soundtrack to their innocent form of piracy.

After what felt like an eternity of tickling, they heard the distant sound of a car door slamming. The laughter halted as they recognized their mother's voice calling out for them. "Jane! Sam!” Sandra's voice was a mix of concern and urgency.

The four pirates exchanged panicked looks, their giggles turning into gasps. They had been so absorbed in their game that they had lost track of time. Quickly, they tried to untie Carol, their nimble fingers fumbling with the knots. "Hurry!" Jane hissed, her eyes darting towards the house.

“Oh mum. What have you got yourself into?”