Grandma’s tickle time mf+/F

[Janbound]

"Alright, you little rascals," Grandma Maggie chuckled, waving her towel at the giggling horde of grandkids surrounding her. "I've had just about enough of your shenanigans for one afternoon."

Her eyes twinkled with amusement, though her body bore the brunt of their boundless energy. The swimming pool in her backyard had been the battleground for their latest escapade. Water balloons had been thrown, belly flops had been executed with gleeful abandon, and laughter echoed off the concrete walls. The air had the scent of chlorine and sunscreen. At 56, she could still out-swim most of them, but she knew her limits. The sticky heat of the day had taken its toll, leaving her more tired than she'd care to admit.

Maggie eyed the inflatable lounge chair at the pool's edge, a beacon of rest and relief. She longed to sink into its embrace, let the cool water wash over her, and maybe doze off under the shade of the palm tree. "I'm going to sit down for a bit," she announced, wading through the water towards the steps.

Before she could hoist herself out, a mischievous glint appeared in the eyes of her eldest granddaughter, Mia. "Oh no, Grandma," she exclaimed, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "You can't get away that easily!" In a flash, Mia grabbed the lounge chair's tether and pulled it away, sending a spray of water into the air. The other children shrieked and splashed around her, their excitement mounting.

Maggie laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. "What do you little scamps have in mind?"

Mia leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "We're going to tie you up!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with glee.

The grandkids nodded eagerly, already scurrying around the pool, gathering all manner of straps, belts, towels and anything they could find to use as makeshift ropes. Maggie couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about what they were planning. Though she knew it would be silly, she also knew that saying no would only make them more determined.

As she stepped onto the pool's edge, she felt the roughness of the concrete under her bare feet, the water streaming off her skin and pooling around her toes. The warmth of the sun kissed her shoulders, and she sighed, deciding to play along. "Alright, but be gentle," she warned, feigning a stern look that only made them giggle more.

Their tiny hands worked swiftly, wrapping the varied restraints around her ankles, wrists, knees, elbows, thighs, chest and tummy. Until she was trussed up like an oven ready Turkey. They chattered among themselves, their voices rising in excitement. The youngest, Timmy, held a piece of cloth, eyeing her feet with a look of pure devilishness. "Gag?" he asked, holding it up like a trophy.

Maggie rolled her eyes, playing along. "Oh, no, not the gag," she protested dramatically. "But, if it's part of the game..." She allowed him to tie the cloth around her head, filling her mouth, the material feeling surprisingly soft against her skin.

In moments, she found herself immobilised, tied in the chair, floating in the shallow end. She could feel the sun's warmth through the plastic of the chair, the gentle undulation of the water beneath her, and the coolness of the shade as it danced over her skin. The world grew quieter, the sounds of the neighborhood muffled by the steady splish-splash of the pool.

And then it began. The first tentative touch of a finger on the arch of her foot. Maggie’s eyes shot open, and she couldn't help the squawk of surprise that was muffled by the gag. The giggles grew louder as the tickling grew more intense. They took turns, each one trying to outdo the last, their laughter echoing around her.

Her body jerked and squirmed in the chair, trying to escape the relentless onslaught of tickling. She could feel the tension building in her stomach, the urge to laugh growing stronger with each passing second. Her eyes watered, and she kicked her legs in protest, but they only took this as a sign of the game's success.

The children's laughter grew to a crescendo as they watched her struggle. Maggie’s heart swelled with love for these little monsters, even as she silently promised to get them back for this.

The minutes stretched on, and Maggie's muffled protests grew more frantic. Her feet twitched and jerked in the water, sending ripples across the pool's surface, which only served to make the grandkids giggle harder. Their eyes sparkled with delight as they watched her contortions, each tickle a new adventure in the quest to elicit the most dramatic reaction.

Mia, the ringleader, paused to catch her breath, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "Alright, who's next?" she called out, glancing around at her siblings and cousins. Little Timmy eagerly stepped forward, his eyes never leaving Maggie's feet.

He approached with the same stealth as a cat stalking a laser pointer, his chubby fingers poised to strike. He touched her big toe, and Maggie's whole body spasmed. The gag muffled her squeal of laughter, but her eyes danced with the sheer joy of the torture. Timmy giggled maniacally and retreated, allowing the next in line to take over.

The tickling continued, a symphony of splashes and laughter. The water around Maggie grew choppy with her struggles, and she could feel the chair rocking slightly with each wave. Despite the torment, she couldn't help but admire their teamwork. They were a well-oiled machine of tickling mayhem, each knowing exactly when to pause and let the tension build before attacking again.

Amidst the chaos, Maggie's thoughts turned to her own childhood, to the countless times she and her siblings had tied up their unsuspecting parents for similar shenanigans. It was a strange feeling, being on the receiving end of a classic family prank she had once dished out with such glee.

But she had to admit, it was a bonding experience she'd never forget. And as the tickling grew more intense, she felt something strange happening inside her. The urge to laugh grew stronger, bubbling up from her belly, and she had to bite down on the gag to keep it at bay.

Her eyes grew wide, and she shot a look at the pool's edge, where she saw her daughter Emily, their mum, watching the scene with a knowing smile. She'd seen it all before, Maggie realised, and probably experienced it too. This was a rite of passage, a family tradition that had been passed down through the generations.

And in that moment, she knew she'd won. Because she hadn't just survived the tickle attack; she'd embraced it, allowing her grandchildren to share in the same joy she had felt so long ago. Her breath grew shallow, her cheeks ached, and her eyes watered until they stung. But she didn't beg for mercy. Instead, she locked eyes with her young tormentors and nodded, silently acknowledging their victory.

The tickling ceased abruptly, and the grandkids stared at her in amazement. They hadn't expected her to last this long. With trembling fingers, Mia reached out to untie the gag. "Grandma," she said, her voice shaking with excitement. "Did you... did you like it?"

Maggie took a deep breath, her chest heaving with the effort to keep her laughter contained. "Like it?" she managed to say. "I absolutely hated it!"

Their eyes grew wide, and then she couldn't hold it anymore. The laughter spilled out, bubbling over like a shaken soda, and the grandkids looked at each other, unsure if they should be proud or worried. But then, understanding dawned on their faces, and they erupted into cheers, jumping into the pool to hug her, their laughter mixing with hers.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the water. The tickling game had gone on longer than any of them had anticipated, but no one cared. They were all too busy celebrating the joy of a perfect summer afternoon. And as Maggie felt the tightness in her muscles begin to ease, she knew that this was a memory they would cherish forever. A moment of pure, unbridled fun that had brought them all closer together, just as she had hoped.