He lay deeply asleep, a soft, steady snore escaping him as he was curled into a small, warm ball. Dressed in white plaid pajamas, his black hair was barely visible beneath the blanket that encased his body. Only his feet stuck out, encased in white socks with gray tips peeking past the edge of the covers. A slight twitch in his sleep caused his feet to wiggle, a subtle shift before his legs buckled together, drawing him deeper into slumber. Soon, his consciousness slipped away, and he appeared in the magical dream land known as Slumberland. Something, however, was different this time. He found himself suspended on his back, floating in a vast black void. Beneath him was a soft, purple cloud, and all around swirled a thick, luminous purple mist. His arms and legs were spread wide into an 'X' shape, held fast by misty cuffs binding his wrists and ankles above his head. He was strangely barefoot—usually, he was wearing his socks. This was... different. A faint groan escaped him. He yawned, stretching his body minutely as he slowly began to blink his eyes open. He instinctively tried to rub the sleep away, only for the realization of his restraints to strike him, causing his eyes to widen with a surge of fear and surprise. "H-huh...!? What's going on...!? Where am I...!? Who are you...!?" he stammered. From a distant, shadowy throne, the Nightmare King watched with quiet amusement. The little ten-year-old boy, an elementary schooler, struggled uselessly in his misty bonds, attempting to twist free. With a silent snap of the King's fingers, multiple hands, woven entirely from the purple mist, coalesced around the boy. They moved with an eerie gentleness, lifting his shirt just enough to reveal his small, bare, and utterly adorable little belly. "Huh...? What are you—" One of the misty hands slowly, deliberately traced a finger up the center of his stomach. A startled yelp escaped the boy, followed by a tiny, involuntarily snort and giggle. He squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his mouth closed, trying desperately to hold back the laughter. "Eek..! T-that tickles... please... s-stop!" But it was too late. He burst forth in a cascade of squeals and high-pitched laughter as the misty hands began to scribble and dance rapidly across his exposed belly. "EHEHEHEHEHEH....!!! S-STOPP...!! Snort! I-IT TICKLES...!!! I CAN'T TAKE IT....!!!" he cried, squirming, kicking, and wriggling his restrained body in the empty air.