Father against - mother for - one man's story
I was left intact at birth. I'm not sure why, but suspect my dad was mostly responsible. However, Dad died when I was ten, and not long afterwards, mom began to bring up the idea of me being circumcised. I had a very long foreskin, and while it retracted easily, retraction was a two handed affair when soft - not painful, just a hassle. Both my parents encouraged me retract to urinate, but I usually did it only if being observed. Chalk it up to obstinance or laziness; whatever. Mom justifiably bitched about my spraying and frequently suggested that a circumcision would cure the problem. I was more than a bit self conscious about being different from the majority of my friends. I only knew one other uncut kid and he was at the bottom of the pecking order - undersized and an underachiever. I remember him talking about fitting in a match box when he was born, so I figure he must have been premature and uncut because of it.
A little over a year after Dad died, just after I turned twelve, Mom took me to the doctor for a pre-summer camp physical. I was in the throes of early puberty and very aware of my penis and the awakening sensations puberty was causing. I remember being embarrassed as my testicles and foreskin were examined during the physical. Mom was in the room during the whole exam, and things really got embarrassing when Mom brought up the idea of a circumcision. The doctor confirmed that my redundant foreskin was a good candidate for circumcision. The doctor went into some detail as to the procedure and what the result would be like. He demonstrated by tugging my foreskin to its full length and then retracting it, all right there in front of Mom. Even worse, the exam and the manipulation caused an erection which further added to my embarrassment. I guess mom had seen me with an erection at some time, and though I couldn't remember when, it had to have been long before I reached the initial stages of puberty. Convinced a circumcision was desirable, Mom made an appointment for my surgery after school was out for the summer. I disliked doctors and emphatically told Mom I was not interested in a circumcision. In reality; however, I was a bit intrigued with the idea though I really had no idea of what was involved or what lay ahead for me at the doctor's office. Mom let me know it was a done deal.
At the appointment, Mom and I were escorted to a minor surgery unit by the receptionist. Two nurses were busy laying out instruments and I was told to get undressed as Mom had a seat in one of several chairs lined up against the wall. Being a pediatric clinic, I guess Mom was required to be there. I was reluctant about the whole process. There was no dressing room or curtain to undress behind and no gown or pajamas were offered and I was certainly not interested in getting naked in front of the nurses and my mom. Mom was insistent; however, so I peeled down to my shorts and socks and sat down in a chair next to Mom, trying to look invisible with lots of butterflies in my stomach. While I was enamored with my developing masculinity, I was very self conscious about my appearance and my sexuality - thus, my embarrassment and reticence about getting undressed. Soon, one of the nurses said they were ready and for me to climb up on the table. As I timidly approached the table, one of the nurses tapped me lightly on the butt, smiled sweetly, and directed me to lose the shorts. I complied by sitting on the table and slowly inching my shorts down off my hips and down my legs while trying to stay a bit hunched over to keep any view of my genitals to a minimum. One of the nurses took my shorts and put them on the chair with the rest of my clothes. The nurses and my mom kept up a cheerful banter, but I wasn't having any of it.
I was now buck naked and feeling exposed and nervous, and maybe a bit scared. Up until then, puberty had done nothing for me other than cause my genitals to enlarge. I had a kid's body and no pubic hair, but my dick was definitely getting into its growth spurt. Those female nurses had to have been impressed, though I was in no condition to notice their interest, assuming it even existed. While I gingerly sat on the edge of the table, one of the nurses stuck a thermometer in my mouth, checked my pulse and blood pressure and listened to my chest with a stethoscope. Then I was told to lie down and move up to the head of the table. I was now fully exposed and very aware that my genitals were prominently displayed to everyone in the room. I was in the initial throes of an erection and mortified because of it. No one made any comment about my increasing turgidity, but they had to be very aware of my condition. I kept wondering what my Mom thought as the only other time she had seen me with a full erection was the brief time during my physical exam. I was too embarrassed to look at her to see if she was watching. The younger of the nurses proceeded to vigorously scrub me from navel to knees with a wet cloth and antiseptic soap, all of which helped guarantee a full and rigid erection. She paid extra attention to my penis and retracted the foreskin and scrubbed my exposed glans and the inner skin. No one had ever done that to me and the sensations were so erotic they were almost painful. Though I had masturbated quite a bit, I had never had an orgasm, but with that nurse doing her scrubbing bit, I was about as close as one could get at that age. After drying me off with a towel, the older nurse painted my genitals with iodine or some other brown medicine, again retracting the foreskin in the process. The iodine stung where it touched my glans and the inside of my foreskin. I complained but got little or no sympathy.
I was beginning to realize that I really didn't want to be there. After the scrubbing and doctoring, one of the nurses covered me up with a sheet with a hole in it, and positioned the sheet so my still erect penis poked up through the hole. Then I got to lay there and contemplate things while we waited for the doctor. A fully erect cadaver on display. At least I wasn't quite as exposed. It probably wasn't more than a few minutes, but lying there exposed and scrubbed, it seemed like an eternity. When the doctor came in, he shook hands with Mom, patted me on the shoulder and proceeded to wash his hands and put on rubber gloves. He then explained what he had planned. I didn't understand most of what he said, but what I did hear was that I was going to get several shots in my penis. Right then I decided I didn't want a circumcision and I wanted off that table and out of the office. Some years before, the same doctor had removed an ingrown toenail, a procedure that started with some deadening shots. That evolution had been painfully traumatic and this situation appeared to be a repeat of the previous surgery. Too late. I struggled to get off the table, and it took both nurses and my mom to restrain me while the doctor administered the shots. I howled in protest as I felt the sting of the first couple of injections deep in the base of my penis. Actually, the first ones did more than sting, they hurt like hell. I felt more shots in the end of my penis and I can still see that big syringe as it moved in for another shot. All of the shots continued to sting for a while after the doctor had finished. I was too angry and upset to notice when numbness finally set in.
I was too busy whimpering during the surgery to know just what took place, thus I am not sure what technique the doctor used. I think he may have used some sort of bell-clamp as there was some discussion about a clamp being too small. Apparently, it didn't make any difference. The surgery went fairly quickly and was painless, and I was left with a bandaged dick. I did note that there were lots of instruments and bloody gauze bits on the adjacent tray. The doctor said I was a good boy and the nurses pretended to coo over me. Mom said I acted like a baby. Hell, she stood at my side and held my arm during the entire procedure, and never once looked at what the doctor was doing. At any rate it was over. I got dressed and we drove home. I remember Mom trying to make light conversation as we drove, but all I did was sit there and stare angrily out the window.
I don't remember the recovery from the surgery being anything difficult, except that I left for baseball camp about three weeks afterwards with a red and swollen dick. I got kidded in the locker room about my "big red head." However, the kidding was not any worse than before my cut when I was known as "Long Dong" or "Dongle." Once healed up, what was left of the foreskin covered about half of my glans. As I grew older, the skin began to stay behind my glans all the time. There was (is) not much of a scar and no discoloration along the cut line. It can be described as a high, loose cut with the frenulum more or less intact. There is plenty of skin left to slide up over the glans while erect, so I can still masturbate without artificial lube like I did before the surgery. During my masturbation efforts before my cut, I remember the pleasurable sensations I got while moving my foreskin back and forth across the glans. What I have now works much the same, there is just a lot less of it.
On reflection, I am glad I was circumcised. While the procedure really embarrassed and angered me, I like the results and now I even fantasize about nurses restraining me and manipulating my erect penis. I no longer spray and dribble when urinating nor do I have to struggle to retract a limp foreskin. If I ever lost any sensitivity I was never aware of it. I am 58 now, and still sexually active. My glans is sensitive enough to permit me to orgasm almost on demand. My sex life has been and continues to be wonderful. In retrospect, I guess I owe Mom thanks for insisting that I be circumcised. I sure didn't thank her at the time.
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