I was 10 when my Mother had my problem “fixed”. My nickname was “Tugger”. Mother did not find that name very funny nor did she like my activities that lead to that name. My nickname was an embarrassment as were my compulsive activities. I was put on the surgical exam chair and strapped tightly in restraints. Then I was catheterized. The doctor was female, as were the students and nurses. Mother allowed me to be utilized as a teaching example to train students and nurses. My Mother attended as did my two Sisters. The nurse who was graduating college and lived next door was also there and she brought along her younger sister who was in my class at school. It was total humiliation for me.
My thing got erect when they inserted the long catheter up it. Everyone saw it. They took photos of me with my thing sticking up and the catheter tube impaling it. Mother wanted all that “nasty foreskin” GONE! Totally gone! The nurse next door eagerly advocated for that too so that I’d look ‘normal’. The circumcision process was long, painful and very humiliating. They took their time so the students could observe, learn and participate. They put a rubber mouthpiece in my mouth to muffle my cries. The straps held me totally immobile. I couldn’t move. I was totally helpless. I was so utterly helpless and strapped down with my legs spread wide open and my thing hanging out on full display while everyone examined it and took pics.
All I could do was watch as the scalpel drew closer and closer to my shaft. I could only watch as they cut off strip after strip of my foreskin and the students examined the results. I was especially ashamed that the girl next door, who was in my class at school, was there too. I was so frustrated and angry that they were cutting my shaft and it would never be the same. I just wanted it to end. I wished they would just cut the whole thing off so it would be over.
It was never over because after that Mother made me write about it in my journal. There are pages and pages that I wrote. Mother also made me write a Thank You card to each person who attended my circumcision. She had plenty of pics and video that she showed to others who could not attend. I was taken back to the Doctor for post op check ups. I was put on medication to prevent erections while my shaft healed, but Mother decided to keep me on the medication and the doctor supplemented it with some other meds so I could not get an erection and could not masturbate.
I had to take my pants down to show Mother’s friends my circumcision. Mother was delighted that it no longer got erect. She loves calling it my ‘Limp Noodle’. She displayed her ‘Limp Noodle’ to her friends when they came to visit. They got to watch the videos, see the pics and examine my limp thing as it healed after being cut and trimmed. They compared the before and after pics and approved of the circumcised result. Mother flicked and flipped my ‘Limp Noodle’ to demonstrate that it can not get erect and her friends laughed and joked. They said, ‘What a relief. They should all be so well controlled.’
Each year Mother has a party to celebrate my circumcision. It is the highlight of my year rather than my birthday. I am the center of attention, or my ‘Limp Noodle’ is. Friends, family, and nurses all attended for the ‘joyous’ occasion. About two years later, at the urging of the nurse next door, Mother decided to take me back for my frenulum to be removed also. It was cut out and then totally excoriated with a hot cauterizing needle. Now it looks as if it was never there. It’s just a smooth trench, or grooved out hollow where my frenulum once was. The nurse knew the frenulum is the spot that boys like to rub. Mother was correct to have it eradicated.
Please see Part Two for the rest of the confession.
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