Dr. Gumm: A Tickle Horror Story in Three Parts. Part 2

Dr. Gumm: A Tickle Horror Story in Three Parts. By Achilles

PART 2: The Trailer. June 1998

“Here we are!” Denny said cheerfully as we exited the truck and walked towards the trailer. I followed sheepishly, my eyes darting around looking for any other person nearby. It seemed that we were totally alone in these woods. I don’t know what I thought I was going to find inside that trailer as I stepped inside, but the reality was so much more bizarre than anything I could have imagined that I could barely believe what I was seeing. My eyes widened and my first impulse was to make a run for it. I wondered if I could find my way out of the woods and make my way back to that train station. Instead I walked into the room and sat down. The place was full of clowns. CLOWNS. There were vintage circus posters covering the walls, with leering clown faces all over them. There was a table in the room that had a miniature circus tent toy surrounded by plastic animals and figurines. There was a mannequin form in the corner with a sparkly costume draped on it. There were stacks of old circus programs on shelves and tables. The place looked more like a miniature circus museum than a trailer where someone lived, but this was indeed Denny’s “home”. He showed me the bathroom and asked if I needed to use it. I did, probably mostly from the panic. Sensing my unease as I returned, Denny realized it was time to be a little more forthcoming. His job was working on carnivals. He traveled from state to state setting up rides for state fairs and festivals and he lived in a trailer for most of the year because of his nomadic lifestyle. This did relax me a little bit, even though thoughts of John Wayne Gacy wouldn’t stop racing through my head. Denny had been obsessed with the circus since childhood, and he’d made working for them his career. This explained the state of his truck, as he did work with a lot of tools and heavy machinery. It also explained his barrel chest and strong hands.

“Are you ready?” he asked me with a huge beaming smile. I had to admit that he did have a sort of infectious charisma, which I recognized despite my mounting terror. He led me out of the trailer and into the one next to it, which he called his “playroom”. If it was possible for my eyes to get even wider, they did. In the center of the main room was a huge table covered in ropes and straps. Standing next to the table was a St. Andrew’s cross. There were tools everywhere: paddles, switches, brushes. I even spotted some feathers, apparently purchased especially for me. The windows of the room were covered in fabric, blocking any view inside. I began to get undressed at his suggestion, and climbed up onto the table. This wasn’t my first rodeo, but it was my first time being tied down in an environment designed entirely for this kind of play. Before Denny began to strap me down he pointed at a video camera in the corner that I hadn’t noticed at first. He asked me if I would mind if he filmed our session. He told me no one would be able to see my face, and that he’d give me a copy if we got together again. I thought about it for a minute…I’d never done anything so adventurous before. If anything I thought that documenting the absolute insanity of this day would probably be worth it. I agreed.

My wrists were strapped to the corners of the table, my arms stretched wide and my armpits exposed. My ankles were cuffed together and attached to the other end of the table. “No turning back now”, I thought. Denny approached me holding a leather gag. I had never been gagged before, and this was a serious one. It had a sort of pacifier shaped leather bit that went into my mouth and large flat oval piece that completely covered the lower half of my face. I only now noticed that Denny had donned his white “Dr. Gumm” lab coat and had a feather tucked into one of the front pockets. “Now for the blindfold!” he said, his voice now adopting a strange, almost German accent. “But first…I want to show you my special toys!”. He reached behind him and slipped on two gloves that had feathers attached to each finger. He waggled all ten fingers at me with a devilish smile. It was as if Freddie Krueger was going to tickle me to death. “I made them myself!” he cackled. I was actually quite impressed with the effort. He pulled them off in order to pick up the leather blindfold and fastened it to my head. It covered most of the top half of my face and plunged me into darkness. Indeed, if anyone saw this video they’d never recognize me.

He had turned on a radio to a classic rock station, which I thought was a strange choice. Because of the music I didn’t hear him approach until I suddenly felt all ten of his feathered fingers fluttering all over my torso. I jerked in surprise and ticklishness. He let out a high-pitched cackle and the feathers traveled up and down my body, lingering now and then at my cock and balls. “coochie coochie coochie coochie” he taunted over and over. I was a little embarrassed that I’d admitted to him how much that kind of thing turned me on in one of our earlier conversations. I could only bounce helplessly and laugh into my gag as he explored every inch of my body. After a few minutes, the tickling stopped and I heard him cross the room. He had apparently forgotten to press play on a tape inside his radio/tape player. A distorted, nightmarish organ song began to play. It sounded like something you’d hear at a carnival in hell. “Is he kidding with this?” I thought before suddenly being thrust into involuntary laughter once again. This time it felt like two larger feathers being dragged all over my belly and armpits. He was actually swiping the feathers back and forth in time to the music, like some sort of devilish conductor. And then it happened. He found my worst spot.

Everyone who tickles me finds it pretty quickly: my belly button. There’s just no way for me to hide my reactions to having it tickled. It’s so insanely sensitive that having it touched can actually be quite painful if someone is too rough. Denny seemed to sense this and teased it gently with the feathers, uttering “Ohhhh….ohhhhh” over and over almost in sympathy with my clear suffering. My laughter had gone up an octave and my bouncing became absolutely frantic. There was no escaping this table, and somehow the inability to see or speak heightened my ticklishness to an almost unbearable degree. He seemed determined to try every toy he had in his arsenal. One particularly effective device was a small vibrating egg on a string that he dangled above my navel so that it barely touched it, which sent me into helpless spasms. The worst tools of all turned out to be those giant hands of his. Despite being rough from a lifetime of hard work, they were maddeningly gentle. He went back and forth from light quick tickles to the deftest of nipple strokes, which sent me into a whole different kind of euphoria. All the while he cooed “Oh ho ho ho ho ho” in that high pitched voice and the carnival music provided his surreal soundtrack. Suddenly he asked, “Did you hear the one about the three blondes that walked into the building? You’d think one of them would’ve seen it! OH HO HO HO” His tickling increased in intensity. Oh god, he was going to tell me terrible jokes and force me to laugh at them. A pretty good technique, I thought. Double the torture.

Denny moved down to my feet to torment them for awhile. Feet are a classic tickle spot, but mine have never been as ticklish as the rest of my body. While Denny tried his best with various tools, he quickly realized he wasn’t getting the same kind of response out of me from my soles and toes. He moved back up to my upper body, this time attacking it with more gusto. All ten of his fingers wiggled furiously on my right side, from my armpit to my groin. I was completely lost in laughter now. “He squirms and he squirms but there is nowhere to go! HA HA HA HAAAA” he said in that B movie villain voice of his. He was really good at this. I gasped into the gag as I felt his meaty index finger enter my belly button. It was too much. I really couldn’t take it. My bucking became wild and I felt something break loose. “Oh my goodness he’s broken out! This calls for another strap!” Denny giggled as I felt more restraints stretch across my chest and wrap around each thigh. My legs were pulled open and fastened to the sides of the table. I was even more helpless than before. The navel tickling began anew, sometimes with his fingers, sometimes with a brush, always with his teasing voice saying “tickle tickle tickle tickle”. These new restraints kept me from bucking and I couldn’t even twist away from the torture. I was utterly at his mercy and I’d lost all sense of time. Had he been tickling me for 10 minutes or 2 hours?

Eventually I began to feel a definite shift in his technique. He began to alternate the tickling with more nipple teasing, clearly in an attempt to make me hard. I’d gone in and out of arousal the entire time, partially from the intensity of the experience and partially out of blind terror, at least in the beginning. Feeling so completely helpless and not being able to see had been strangely freeing, and I had actually begun to feel very safe in his hands. He hadn’t hurt me, he’d been an incredible tickler and now he was attempting to make me feel good. I heard him fumbling with a device I could only assume was the Venus. He dribbled some kind of lube on my cock and then felt the vacuum pump slide over my shaft. He turned it on and I tensed in sudden pleasure. It was both a wonderful and a strange sensation. I heard him turn on a second vibrating device and he placed it against my balls. The dual sensations were almost overwhelming and I squirmed in the restraints. Denny held the Venus in place with one hand and gently tickled my nipples with a fingertip with the other. I’m not exactly what you’d call “hung” so the machine did slip off of me a few times before we finally settled into a steady rhythm. Being subjected to this device was like getting the best blowjob I’d ever received. Denny had gone silent, his former wacky persona replaced by someone very serious about milking the cum out of his helpless prisoner. I didn’t want the sensations to ever end, but over time Denny gradually increased the speed of the wicked device until I felt my legs tingle and I began to fall into the sweet inevitability of my orgasm. I heard an animal, guttural cry leave my body and every muscle tightened as I shot into the relentlessly pumping machine.