#circumcision
I experienced my first orgasm at 30, only after my husband was circumcised due to balanitis, he had a total removal of the internal foreskin and frenulum, in my experience every woman should feel pleasure and every man should have a similar cut
I’m sorry you had to wait so long. This is why I’m a supporter of men having our foreskin taken away at the time of marriage, so no wife has to suffer the way you did.
A gentleman should always be circumcised for a lady.
A gentleman is circumcised. If he is not then he’s no gentleman.
What’s the most fucked up kinkiest gay tumblr you know
When everyone talks about circumcision, they debate. Debate if sensation was taken, forced acts, right of passage, morality and human right. Male identity. Ownership of body over ownership of thought, parenthood, or religion. The erotic nature of sexual control hidden subversly in cultural tradition. Know whats the first thing I always think of? What it felt like.
Maybe its because for most the experience is displaced beyond memory, or they were knocked out for the procedure they willingly took part in as an adult. But being cut as a kid, you are squarely between the ability to perceive, but without any ability to have control or authority of self. The experience is the definition of cultural control. This isn’t an inflated issue, or one tied deeply to my culture or religion. Its an experience that happened to me. What no one tells you is how it feels to feel part of yourself be pulled away forever. That the nerve block injection numbs all the pain receptors, but “soft touch” you can still feel- during the procedure. So you don’t feel pain, but you feel a shadow of the experience. That feeling is never too far off in my memory when I talk about all this…
But I am getting ahead of myself now, lets rewind a bit. This next chapter in the story of my circumcision is titled: The Doctors Examination
So as I was saying before- my family moved to the Midwest. Different climate, different culture, different life. But the start of Fall was filled with normalcy- the comforting repetitiveness of back to school shopping and of course the start of school doctor visit. We had moved to such a small town there really was only one pediatrician that was in a reasonable distance. She was an older woman. Looking back on all this I think all her medical training took place during a period where it was standard procedure to circumcise every American boy at birth- without getting even parental consent. Her perspective probably was “to be a boy, means having your foreskin removed.” Just like to have Pancreatitis means having your pancreas removed. It wasn’t a question. So probably having not one, but two twin boys who lived (unusually) in America with the same unaltered bodies they were born with- walk into her office was a problem in her eyes.
There is a cold unease for any boy who enters a doctors office. Because for us, the doctors office is not a safe space. If you are a girl its a place to be protected and cared for, for a boy in America-the medical world- the doctors office is place where your natural self is subverted for the manufactured, cultural one. Where the value of what you are is not just seen as valueless- its been redefined as a medical problem desperately needing radical treatment- amputation.
But at that age, in that moment- I knew none of this. I came in and she asked me to undress and immediately her attitude changed. Friendly, to slightly cold and clinical- like there was an elephant in the room. After she did all the normal doctor things (like getting my weight, height, etc) She kinda scrunched up her noise when looking at me, and it just made me feel uncomfortable. I stood there naked, with everything hanging, like so many boys before me had over the years. It was the first time I felt slight unease being naked.
Then she did something my old doctor never had done- she reached down toward my penis. I innately pulled away from her, she explained she had to see if I could pull back my foreskin. “What!” I remember saying. She then sat me down and asked if I cleaned under my foreskin every day. I obviously said no, I never even thought of that being a possibility. (I was 10 after all and still at an age where the foreskin often hasn’t naturally separated from the glans yet. Seeing as I was probably one of the few natural males she had seen in her life, I doubt she knew that)
I remember how upset my Mom was after she talked to the doctor. I remember thinking the doctor had infected her with the same sense of unease she had given me. I found out recently it was because that was the first time the doctor brought up circumcision for me. My twin was fine, because he could retract. But she even suggesting having us both circumcised so we would “match”. Apparently my Mom was against it, but the doctor pressed her saying my foreskin was “trapped”.
My mother had better sense than to listen to her. But she didn’t know what a natural male body was suppose to do, and I bet my Dad was no help as he was circumcised at birth. So the whole thing nagged at her. A seed of worry had been planted. And thats how it always starts.
I remember her saying she wouldn’t go back to that doctor, which was fine by me. But about a month later my brother and I both joined school sports- lactose and track respectively. Unfortunately to get into those at school we needed a more complete physical from a doctor. So back we went. This time she was far more extensive in her exam, which left me feeling like a farm animal being put up for sale. I had my reflexes tested, was told to undress, she even did the cough test. (Where they feel your testicles while you cough). She had me lie down, and pressed on different spots on my abdomen. Without a word, she slipped her cold fingers on to my penis and she began to try and retract my foreskin. I didn’t resist this time because I really wanted to be on a sport team, and thought I had to comply to her. In that moment all her lack of knowledge, and a life time as a woman living in a cutting society transferred to me in the form of pain. My whole body tensed, and my fingers dug into the table. At first the sensation was just “tight” but then I felt a sharp pain, and then what felt like a tear. I was in agony. She made my penis feel a sensation I hadn’t been use to feeling there- pain. And to her it was all just confirmation that she was right. That I needed to have my foreskin removed and be circumcised.
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS:
Part 2: http://choppedwheatfields.tumblr.com/post/150500171554/intro-httpchoppedwheatfieldstumblrcompost14
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So its Friday again. Next week you will get more of my story, I wanted to write this little summary of how I feel now. So you have a better sense of the stakes that are at play when you read the rest of the story. So you understand what got removed. Its not just my foreskin, but my opinions on dominance, submission and where I will exist in the social order as that boy (me) grows up. This is why circumcision is so powerful, it controls, defines and chains you into a place. Sexy, scary, horrifying, and some may say wonderful…. Anyway here is this weeks installment:
Part 2, The Stakes:
He knew nothing of what could be, but only what couldn’t. Locked into the perspective of what the knife had done, what it had limited him to, his manhood, his sense of self was diminished into the perspective of what his cutter wanted him to be. More than his sexual ability, more than the tribal nature of it all- his cut locked him into the world view of a culture that cuts. That THIS was what was good, and what was good, was for him to have less of himself- to not be what’s natural- but what is socially demanded. In this world, his native sense of sense was foreign, how he was born was deemed ugly and “extra”. To be what he became was to submit to something he wasn’t, but also to not consider what was done to him as submission. This world view was to view the altered, the diminished- as normal. So he instead existed between worlds. Not all too comfortable with what they made him, but also unaware of what he fully was. He existed in an indescribable place to anyone who wasn’t born there. Because birth is where you gain your sense of self. For many that evolves from a point of realization of what was always there since utero. But for him and many men in America, birth was the moment the knife cut through skin and what they became was not what they were, but what they were forced to be.
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Which style of CIRCUMCISION do you have?
Interesting
As a 12 year old boy I would have killed to have this diagram! In Sex Ed class in schools in America they should cut the crap of pretending the cut dick is natural and never talking about circumcision. But instead whip out this diagram for all the boys and girls so little Tommy can know kind of cut he has! The boys might have to endure some sadistic giggles from the girls, but it sure would be informative!
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You’re a volunteer nurse standing in a high school gym which has been converted into a field hospital for this year’s circumcisions. Upper-form guys, your classmates, stand nervous and embarrassed in their disposable medical gowns in lines waiting to be processed. Each of them shifts apprehensively when they hear the occasional cry of pain muffled by the hand of a nurse from the screened-off booths. It’s felt to be a waste of resources to use anaesthetic when the clamp cuts off feeling after it’s been tightened anyway.
The next guy comes in as you finish tidying up, and Grace, one of your two assistants, both best friends of yours, asks him to take his gown off and sit on the reclining chair. You turn around as he’s nervously pulling off his gown, exposing his toned physique, and realise that it’s Bobby Buchanan; the ex-boyfriend of you and about half the track and field team. If you hadn’t moved away for six months before returning home when the startup your mother was working at went bust, you would probably still be his girlfriend now. He was a gentle boyfriend, kind and interested in more than just checking off “bases” like many boys you’d dated. He even went down on you, something most guys weren’t willing to do for an uncircumcised girl.
If it weren’t for both of you being uncut and thus not full adults, you might have let him be your first. But you were both good kids. He wouldn’t have asked you to do something that unclean and humiliating, even if you might have said yes.
As it was, he seemed happy enough with the slightly awkward tugjobs you gave him, as well as the thing that you made him promise he would never tell anyone about- your reputation would never recover if anyone found out that you’d let a dirty uncut dick into your mouth! Though honestly, after having been so close to it so many times, you weren’t sure what all the fuss was about… Tradition was tradition, you supposed. Plus, you’d want him to be able to last a bit longer than five minutes if you ever took him into your bed!
More nights than you cared to admit to anyone but the best friends who were standing beside you now, you’d masturbated whilst imagining what that might be like. These nightly efforts were increasingly accompanied by a certain amount of trepidation; your womanhood ritual was only six months away. You wondered what it would feel like to touch yourself (or be touched) without the soft, protective hood around your most sensitive spot. Your elder sister had told you that was what it was originally intended for; to stop girls from masturbating once they became women, although in the modern age of moisturising lotion and the vibrator that was quite a tall order! She’d also told you that sex still felt just as good, although she’d only blushed when you asked her how she knew that.
Bobby is too nervous to meet your eyes as he hands his gown to you.
After a brief hesitation he sits down in the reclining chair and surrenders his arms and legs to your best friends, Allison and Grace, who move them into the correct positions and then tighten the restraints around them. You and Allison put on a new pair of latex gloves whilst Grace begins stroking his hair and whispering soothing nothings, and the next stage of the ritual is ready to begin.
Pulling down his foreskin gently but firmly, Allison grins to you as you squeeze a dollop of cold gel into your gloved palm. It’s been a part of the ritual since time immemorial that young men must first be “emptied” before they are cut -you don’t understand it but you suppose it gives them one thing to look forward to at least, even if it does necessitate a bit of clean-up afterwards. You’re pretty sure that for some of the guys you’ve seen here today, it was their first.
After the traditional herbal tea that all the young men had to drink in the antechamber, Bobby was already rock hard. His cock stands to attention at a nicely thick seven inches, with a very pronounced head that would usually be about halfway covered by his foreskin. If Allison weren’t currently holding it down so tightly that he was having to bite his lip, that is.
You begin to massage the gel into his taut member, paying special attention to the area just underneath his glans, his favourite spot back when you were together. He groans and Grace puts a gloved hand over his mouth, muffling the sound in a part of the ritual that goes back to when it used to be conducted in huts. You smile to yourself and begin circling your thumb around his frenulum; something that unlike his grandfather’s generation, he would be allowed to keep today.
You were going to make this feel as good for him as you could. And after what came next, after he’d healed, you might just ask him if he wanted to go and catch a film together sometime.
You take over Allison’s grip at the base of his shaft with your left hand as she turns around to the table behind her. You hear a ripping sound as she removes the sterilized disposable clamp from its plastic wrapper. You feel the shiver throughout Bobby’s body travel right to the base of his cock as he hears the sound too.
You increase the pace of your stroking just a little, eliciting another muffled groan.
He meets your eyes.
You can see him try to speak despite being muffled by your friend, and you ask Grace to take her hand away.
“Stacey… I wanted to opt out…”
You slow down but don’t stop your rhythm as he continues.
“Please don’t do it. I’m scared.”
…
What do you say?
************************************** Simple. I smile sweetly at the dear boy as I make this stroking the best he’ll ever have. I then lean down and kiss his lips softly, sensually before leaning down next to his ear and erotically whispering “Too bad.” Then his mouth is quickly covered again!
Wonder why you are cut? Look into those eyes and see why. These are the eyes of influence. Direct influence which leads to indirect influence. Influence of a peer on to another girl, of a partner on her man. Influence of desire, influence of envy. The influenced become doctors, nurses, fathers, mothers, and friends. People want to please the ghosts of their pasts. Want to know why you are cut, restitched and modified. Look into a pair of beautiful eyes and know it’s because of them.
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Oh wow
Nice cute blonde guy, with long, floppy, and super sensitive foreskin. This very easily could have been me if my doctor didn’t convince my parents to have me circumcised. If I knew what was happening I would have begged to keep my foreskin. But boys are not allowed to make such requests, so I doubt it would have mattered. Either way, I was so close!!
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This picture perfectly captures that feeling of when someone you know who has been trying to figure out your circ status- and finds out you’re cut. It feels like your suddenly naked and exposed in front of them- even if you are fully dressed. Happened to me for the first time when I was 17, I was drinking with a group of friends at school and this girl flat out asks me. Everyone is looking at me and giggling. I stand awkwardly silent when a boy who I was on a sports team with blurted out “Yeah, he’s circumcised.”
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