An All Around Improvement

I’m thirty-four and I’ve been a doctor for seven years. I started off in the Army Medical Corps after I finished my training at one of the big teaching hospitals. The Army really isn’t my kind of life, and I only did a couple of years, but there’s one thing to be said for it. If you enjoy performing circumcisions, you get your chance to keep in practice there. There’s always someone being posted to the tropics, or having some little problem with a tight foreskin, and I often found it quite surprisingly easy to persuade them that what they needed was that little bit of skin removed by my own highly skilled hand. Even better were the poor dumb squaddies who believed the tale that it got you ten days leave. I made sure that a couple of my corporals kept spreading that story among the new recruits. In return, they got to watch the circumcisions I performed. They enjoyed that. My two sidekicks would encourage the recruits to come and ask for it, and when I looked at their dicks the skin would be loose and the head completely clean. In fact I can say that I mostly cut the lads who didn’t need it. And need it or not, they were back on parade the following morning with a very sore weapon in their rough army trousers.

I think that’s where I developed a taste for the whole idea. Of course at medical school they had decided that circumcision was a bit unfashionable but I’ve found that the practice I got in the Army has stood me in good stead. Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t approve of the sort of wholesale slaughter of the innocent that happens in the States. I do circumcise babies; of course, from time to time, but only if the parents are really insistent. Fewer of them are, these days, but that’s all to the good. Cutting a baby is OK, but the real thrill is doing it for an adolescent, and because there are fewer babies done, it means there are more teenagers around to play with. And that is really nice. Part of the interest is persuading their parents. I tell them how much cleaner, and how much better the penis looks. I warn the about dirt behind tight foreskins and penile cancer. I talk about irritations and ulcers and all the other “medical” reasons. But what I don’t say is that they are all so much nonsense. Doctors, and especially me, we circumcise because we enjoy it.

And so, since I left the Army, I have had the privilege and pleasure of taking my scalpel to some twenty-five or thirty healthy teenagers’ foreskins. Now you must understand that I am a professional. They got the best treatment. After all, if you’re going to get a reputation for circumcision, it ought to be a good one, and I took great care over all of them. They all had an anaesthetic injected carefully into the skin. They all had the cut ends lined up neatly, the fraenum carefully preserved. The fraenum is the little bridge of skin just under the opening, the meatus as we call it. It’s quite sensitive and most guys ask to keep it. Mostly I let them. Anyway they all healed up looking smooth and neat. But I have to say that I began to feel that I was not getting all the pleasure I might from the operation. Then about a month ago, two things happened. First, I read an article in an American magazine. It was about some of the customs of the Arabs and of the slaves they took from the African tribes. Now I don’t know how true it all was, but it was obvious that the writer was as turned on by the idea of primitive circumcisions as I was. It was terrific, and I began to think that perhaps I wasn’t being very ambitious with the foreskins that came under my knife. I also began to wonder what it would be like to own slaves. The second thing that happened was that a good-looking guy of about thirty-five or thirty-six, a patient of mine, Phil by name, brought his fifteen year old son, Timothy, to my surgery. They were the last patients of the afternoon session.

I’ve known Phil for some time. He’s good-looking, a bit of a bruiser, not the world’s most intellectual guy, but sharp. He works at Nine Elms, in the new Covent Garden fruit market, and humping tons of fruit around has given him a very fair set of muscles. He doesn’t make a great deal of money, and you can tell from the way he dresses – his muscles are fairly rippling under tight tee shirts and tighter trousers not because he likes to show off – there’s just not enough money coming in to spend on clothes, would be my guess. But he has the body of a body builder, and his tight clothes really show it off – except for the muscle between those massive thighs of his. After all, I’m his doctor, and I know from past examinations that Phil has been seriously short changed in the cock department. Funny how God divides, but for all his wonderful musculature, his cock is just a mere 4.5 – 5 inches, and really thin and sort of pencil-like. His balls are just as small – like little tiny marbles. It makes for a rather interesting picture, actually – as I cast my mind back to Phil’s last physical – this big, muscular, masculine hunk and that little tiny cock, all shrivelled up between those huge thighs of his. Shame, really.

But if big cocks are not your thing, and if you find body hair sexy, well, he has just the right amount of fine white-blond hair covering all those muscles, matching his cold, ice blue eyes. There’s just one thing though. Whoever circumcised that little piece of meat of his was a butcher; they left what little cock he’s got looking like a little piece of chopped meat. What was left was a tiny little cock head, and a thin little shaft, but too much skin was removed from one side, too little off the other, and a thick, raised scar that looks as if it was stitched up with string. Of course, as I said, I am his doctor, so I’d never actually had my hands on it except purely for medical purposes, but I didn’t somehow think he’d have been surprised that another guy was interested in the state of his equipment. Anyway, here he was, with young Timothy.

The other thing I knew about Phil was that his wife, Timothy’s mother, had been carrying on with more or less anything in trousers for a long time now – maybe in search of a bloke with a “normal” sized cock? Perhaps, and who could really blame her, I guess. Of course you and I don’t see much wrong in that, and maybe neither did Phil, because he stuck with her. But seeing Phil there was a bit of a surprise. In the past it was always Sylvia that came in with Timothy.

Any good doctor, when he sees a patient, goes through the patient’s history notes. I didn’t have much on Timothy, but what there was quite interesting, to me at least. Like for example, he’d been brought to see my predecessor in the practice. You remember I said I only circumcise babies if the parents insist? Well, the notes said that Sylvia had come up with the idea, but the guy before me turned her off. I didn’t know him, but I was glad he had. Probably, like me, he thought that circumcising a baby seemed a bit tame. There have been several I’ve thought, ‘save him for later, or if not him, well, there will be lots more’. When he was eight, she and her then boyfriend came and asked again. It was my writing on the notes and I remembered it now. Timothy’s little cock looked very good as it was, and it stiffened nicely as I handled it, but again I said no. Of course I didn’t close the door on the idea entirely. I’d had a feeling then that she would come back, but I pointed out that there was no tightness or soreness and if she was still worried, bring the lad back when he has developed, I’ll take another look then.

However, in the past seven years or so I’d seen him only two or three times. He was a tough kid, and they get the harder knocks. I took a quick look through his notes and registered a broken arm and some concussion from a fight. Looking at the boy himself, he certainly seemed to have developed very nicely indeed. He was well muscled for a teenager, compact and trim, with pale, creamy white skin with a pink hue like his father, short blond hair and pale blue eyes and a very fair packet in his trousers. I asked what seemed to be the problem.

Phil answered. “It’s like this, Doc”. Timothy has not been sleeping very well and he’s got these exams coming up. I thought you might be able to give him something. To get him off to sleep, like.” Timothy looked a bit sullen, I thought, but Phil looked embarrassed. I knew there had to be something else, you get a instinct as a doctor, so I waited. “See,” he said, “When he doesn’t get to sleep at night, he starts, you know, playing with himself.”

“Oh, yes,” I said, “masturbating.”

“Well, that’s the fancy word…”

“Still, it’s the right one.”

Now you and I, we know that everyone does it. So did Phil, I thought, after all, he is quite a sharp character. I wondered why he was making a thing of it. Timothy looked a bit guilty. Still, he was my patient, so I thought I’d better talk to him. “All right,” I said, “let’s have some more information. What do you think is keeping you off your sleep? Is there anything you’re worried about? “

The lad shrugged. “Dunno,” he said, “not really.”

“How long have you been masturbating?” “Dunno.”

“Well, that wasn’t the first time, was it, son,” said Phil. Then he turned to me. “Maybe you heard, Doc, his mum and me, we’ve split up. She’s gone off, oh, four months back, with her new bloke. This time she says she’s not coming back.”

“Good riddance,” said Timothy. “We’ll do better without her.” Phil seemed pleased at this, but he carried on.

“That’s as may be, son. Anyhow, you know what it means. I am your father and you’ll do what I say. And that means no more beating your meat every night. It’s not good for you. You carry on like that and we’ll have to talk to Doc about that other little job.”

I pricked up my ears. The ‘other little job’ had an interesting sound. Then I looked at Phil, and suddenly, just from the look in his eye, I knew exactly what the ‘other little job’ might be. What’s more he looked back at me, and I saw that he knew I knew. He wasn’t going to say the word, and nor was I, but I could tell we were both savouring the same idea. Then I looked at Timothy. I wondered if he knew, too. Was that fear in his eyes? Or was it interest? Or maybe, was it both?

“Right,” I said. “I’d better take a look at you. Lots of boys masturbate, and the reason is often some minor irritation, even something you can’t really feel, which keeps you off your sleep and makes you want to touch your penis. And of course having done that, it’s a short step to playing with it.” I looked him straight in the eyes. “We can probably do something about that.” I could tell that he too knew what we could do. What interested me was that something about him seemed almost to welcome the idea. “Go behind that screen, please, and strip down to your underpants.”

The boy did so and I had him come and stand by my table. He had a lovely body, with the taut muscles, the tight little arse and smooth pale white skin of the adolescent; so creamy white you could almost see the pale blue of his veins beneath the surface of the skin. I slipped his briefs down over his thighs. The hair at his groin was soft and silky and so blond it was almost white. And curled tightly at the base of his shaft. The cock itself was big and beautiful, measuring about 6 inches soft, and rather thick. The skin was very soft and a pale milky white. It hung freely down thick and heavy, a little proud of his testicles. The foreskin covered the big mushroom head completely, and extended over it into an overlap of about ¾ of an inch, and no more. The head was big and flanged and I gradually, slowly and gently took it in my hands and pushed back the foreskin. The soft teenage skin slid easily back and as the fleshy purple glans was released from its covering it expanded like a widely flanged flower. Though the skin covered the head closely there was no tightness. The foreskin rode back across the corona easily. As it slid over the edge I could feel Timothy’s erection beginning. I continued to press it further, and the clean, perfect, beautiful sulcus appeared. There were vivid blue veins beneath the pink and white skin. I paused for a second. Then I thrust the foreskin firmly back as far as it would go. Under the tension the fraenum showed white amid the surrounding skin. I took hold of the glans and spread the wide lips of the meatus. It was a large slit – quite unusual for a boy his age and size and as it opened I could clearly see the dark, moist flesh inside. When I released it a spot of thick pre-cum fluid appeared at the tip. I had been fighting to be a professional doctor, to keep my hard on down. What finished me was that lone, sticky spot of juice from the gaping hole of his meatus. It was all I could do not to bend down and lick it off. Timothy was half erect now, and when I let his cock go it stayed there – my best estimate put it at 9 inches, and it was not even fully hard. The foreskin slowly unrolled of its own accord almost to its original position, hiding his heavy cock head.

I looked at Phil. I recognised the look he had on. Lust, of course. For his own son, yet. He had sex written all over his face. I wondered if he ever… But I let THAT thought go. But as he gazed at Timothy’s huge, perfect cock, I saw envy in Phil’s eyes as well. And I knew what he wanted to do about it, too.

So I let the boy dress himself and sent him into the waiting room so that I could have a private word with Phil. I noticed though that when Timothy came out from behind the screen, he hadn’t just stuffed his cock back into his jeans. He had deliberately not put his briefs back on and he had carefully placed his semi-hard cock on the right side of his trousers. His half erection showed clearly pressing against his thigh in his pants, and he had stuffed his briefs into his back pocket. When he had gone I looked Phil, straight in the eye. “Stand up, Phil,” I said. He looked surprised, then embarrassed. He wriggled a bit in his trousers, but I held his eye and he stood. It was as I expected. Phil’s jeans were very tight and clearly outlined I could see the shape of his little erection trying to get out of them; I smiled to myself. I had never had any reason to see Phil’s cock hard, but on his massive body – it would have been a treat to see such a little hardon. “Thought so,” I said. “OK, now I know where we stand.”

Phil looked at me hard. Then he laughed. “Bloody hell, Doc. How did you know?”

“That’s not the only thing I know,” I said. “Now, this door is soundproof, no-one can overhear us and everything you say to me is confidential, right? So you can say exactly what you like. But I’m going to say one thing. Every kid has a wank now and then. I bet you did when you were Timothy’s age.” He shook his head a little, as if he was remembering it, but he didn’t deny it. “So why’d you bring him here? I mean, if it’s just that he isn’t sleeping, I’ll give him something. But it’s not that, is it? It’s the other thing. And what do you expect me to do about that?”

“Well,” he said, “You said yourself there might be something wrong, something irritating him. Can you do anything about that?”

“There’s nothing at all wrong with Timothy’s penis. In fact it’s as close to perfect as you could wish to see, no marks, no dirt, no tightness, no irritation. And what’s more, it’s much, much bigger than average for boys his age, and it will probably get bigger. He knows that. You know it too, surely. Or is that the first time you’ve seen it? I saw you getting a good look.”

Phil looked embarrassed and looked at the floor. “First time close to. I’ve seen it a couple of times in the bath.”

“Anyway,” I went on, “I think you had something else in mind, or am I wrong. You said something about ‘some other little job’. Were you thinking of some sort of punishment or other? No-one punishes a kid of fifteen for wanking, not in the twentieth century.”

His face clouded over.

“They did me, didn’t they?” he said, his mind recalling some previous horror he had as a teenager. “Just the once I got caught and they did me.”

I thought I knew just what he meant, then – his own circumcision nightmare - and I said “All right, let’s have it then. I think you’ve got something in mind. You said masturbation was a fancy word, and I said it was the right one. What’s the right word for this one, then? Revenge?

He looked at me then. He didn’t know if he could trust me, but I knew he was too horny with the idea to let go now. From what I could tell, Phil’s cock was rock hard and I could see the little head clearly outlined against his tight trousers. From what I could tell, if that was the full size of Phil’s cock when hard – he had a LOT to envy his son about; Phil’s hard cock could be no bigger than 5 inches at the most. No wonder he was jealous! His own son was over twice as big as him!

“Revenge. Circumcision,” he whispered. “That’s what the word is. That’s what they did to me. And Christ! It hurt!” I thought of his tiny, butchered cock. “My two brothers, Ron and Kevin, they caught me wanking one night, just like I caught Timothy. They thumped me, and I swore at them and thumped them back. My cock was really small, and they were much bigger than me – and they kept laughing and pointing and joking about how nobody would ever want anything to do with my little cock, not even the gay bloke who hung around the docks at night. Next night they’re in the bar and they meet this bloke they don’t know from Adam. They have a bit to drink and they tell him all about it. ‘I know a trick worth two of that’ says the bloke, and the next thing I know the three of them are back home, pissed as ferrets and up in my bedroom. ‘We’re going to put a stop to your larks’ says Ron ‘and make you sorry you ever had that little piece of meat between your legs’, and then he and Ron hold me down and the other guy gives grabs a hold of my cock and in one quick move he pulled up my foreskin and gave me the treatment with the kitchen scissors. Have you seen the result, Doc? You have haven’t you? It isn’t pretty, and my God it hurt!”

“And that’s what you want for your own son?”

“That’s what I want. It want his cock ripped and mutilated - just like mine”

He paused and smiled. “Like father like son, eh, Doc?”

I looked at him straight. He was still standing. One hand was in his pocket, and I could see he was gripping the stiff little hardon in his pants. “All right, drop your pants. Let’s see what you want for him, and I’ll think about it.” Slowly he undid the belt of his jeans and slipped them down. His cock was barely distinguishable in his old dirty briefs. I could see the shape of the cock-head only barely against the growing sticky wet stain.

“I don’t like showing this,” he said.

“I’m a doctor, I’ve seen worse, I expect.” He slipped down his briefs and took the little piece out, handling it ever so gently, like a precious piece of crystal.

In my career, I must say that I have never seen a more terribly mangled penis – or what was supposed to be a penis – and indeed one that was so small, attached to a fully grown man, The one good thing was that it was straight – and just like a little pencil nub it stuck out straight out hard and stiff – and I was right in my estimate, too. Barely 5 inches it was, perhaps closer to 4.7 inches would be the best estimate. With the same soft, creamy white skin as his son, the head was particularly noticeable in that it was much thinner and more tapered; usually cock heads flare out a bit. Phil’s pointed little cock head was swollen with excitement to colour of a little plum; QUITE different from his son! And as I’ve said, he’d been seriously butchered. On one side the skin was tight and scarred from a knife blade and the horrible, messy scar had pulled – a careless job of suturing a wound. On the other there side there was a cuff of thick white skin covering part of the head, also sliced many times by a blade. The scar there was ugly too. Underneath the little shaft there was a rough, ragged scar running back all along the shaft, down to his little balls. It was thick and red, and clearly visible in profile; because his cock shaft was so thin – his whole cock seemed to be just one mass of scar tissue.

I leant forward. I could smell the sweat from his dirty briefs and matted pubic hair.

“Oh, Christ,” he said, “Don’t touch it or I’ll come.”

I didn’t want that, of course, so I said, “OK, now I’ve seen it. You’re right it’s not pretty, and it is a bit small.”

“Yeah – insult to injury, eh? Sylvia used to say…” But he didn’t go on, obviously not wanting to repeat her past taunts. Women can be bitches indeed!

“I’ll bet. You know, maybe I could do something about those scars. Anyway, is that the butcher job you want done on your son? It’s not entirely impossible, but I’ll tell you one thing if it is. I don’t do circumcisions with kitchen scissors.”

He shuddered a bit as he remembered his own mutilation. He put his little tool back into his filthy white cotton briefs – still rock hard, but small enough to get in without any strain. He pulled up his tight trousers and just like that – his crotch was gone! Then he said, “Look Doc, you’re way ahead of me. Timothy’s a good kid, mostly, and I do love him. When I came in here I didn’t have any of this in mind.”

But I saw he couldn’t meet my eyes, and I said “Don’t give me that, Phil. You’ve been thinking about this ever since you caught him wanking. Maybe even earlier. In fact, I think you’ve wanted his cock cut up ever since the first time you saw him in the bath.” I didn’t look at his eyes; I looked at his cock. The way it twitched when I said it, I knew I was right.

“You know, you got me,” he said. “So help me I don’t know how you knew, but you’ve known since we came in, isn’t you. And you’re dead right. I mean, it’s pretty obvious that he’s a good-looking kid, and that time I caught him, he had left the bathroom door open. First time I went in it was an accident, and I only got a quick look. I couldn’t think of anything else all fucking evening. So I made sure I got another look, real soon. Well you saw it, Doc. That kid’s prick, it’s fantastic, its huge and powerful - it’s perfectly shaped and formed… magic.” He grinned. “Course the second time I reckon he left the door open on purpose, just so I would get a good look at him. See, he put the face cloth on the top of it when I came in, but he left it long enough so I got quite a good look.”

“After that, I used to catch him pretty regular, just going at it – and I know he knew I was watching because it was always at the same time. He’d say good night and go up to bed, and I KNEW that if I went up in about ten minute’s time, he would be laying on the bed, the door open about six inches – just so I could see in. And I would go upstairs for some reason and make a lot of noise – and he KNEW I was there – and he knew I would see him and he would jack that big piece of meat real slow and deliberate, spreading his legs out wide, and just taking his time. And he would hold off as long as he could until he shot that big load of his – all the time with that big smile on his face, knowing I was watching his little show. Bastard.”

Phil paused, and a deep scowl came across his lips as he thought of his young son’s perfect cock and his own mangled little morsel between his legs. “And after I thought about it, I realised that my boy didn’t deserve to have a cock like that, better than his dad. He needed bringing down a few pegs. Here Doc, when exactly did you suss out that’s what I wanted.”

“Soon as you said he was playing with himself.”

“Yeah, well I’ll tell you something. Soon as I said it I knew you knew. And I knew you were going to help.”

“Well... that depends exactly what it is you want. Like I said, no kitchen scissors.”

“Nah, nah,” he said, “I want it done proper – in a medical sense. If I’d wanted the other I’d have done it myself, and I don’t say I wasn’t tempted, poor little fucker. You know, the first time I caught him, he was so ashamed; I think he’d have let me. After that, though… Course you see it wasn’t like what happened to me. I didn’t thump him, and he didn’t give me lip. Anyway, I want him scarred permanently, but he should be able to USE it. Unless…” His voice trailed off as he thought about – what?

“Unless WHAT, Phil?” I was genuinely curious. This man HAD given this some thought.

“Unless something were to happen, you know – go wrong with the procedure. Something real wrong. Prevent him from ever using that cock of his again. Forever. That would be the ideal situation, I guess. A genuine and permanent improvement to the situation, as they say.”

Now I am not a stupid man, but what was he getting at? Then it hit me. And I thought in all my years as a doctor, I had done it all – this was a new thing completely, and something of a challenge. I smiled at Phil and looked right into his eyes, and saw him in a new light. Not just a BIG bloke, but a MEAN one, too. Mean enough to destroy his own kid’s life, for the sake of his own envy. If I didn’t know Phil was seriously straight – I tell you, right then and there… I would have gone for him. I was getting hard myself, just thinking about this mean fucker. Tiny dick, but mean and sexy as hell!

Phil smiled back at me; he looked down and noticed my own hardon coming up in my white trousers. “I mean, if a little accident were to just HAPPEN – there’s not much we can do, is there, doc?” I thought he would burst out laughing, that smug bastard!

I brought it back to reality; I was NOT going to play mind games with this semi – intellectual. No. But I knew what he wanted for his lad, and as a doctor… I would serve. And have a pretty interesting time doing, I supposed.

“Okay. Agreed. I will do this for you, if this is what you genuinely want for your son.” Phil smiled broadly. “Does Tim know why he’s even here?”

“No. Just told him it was a check up and knowing that he had been jacking off a lot – I told him I would have that foreskin off him. We talked a bit about it, all serious, and I says we’re going to see you, and maybe that’s what you’ll say.”

“What did he say to that?”

“He didn’t seem to like it a lot. In fact not one little bit.” Phil grinned all over his face. “But then, he’s not got a lot of choice, has he. I mean, I’m his father, and you’re his doctor, and if we say ‘cut’, it’s cut. Mind you, it’s funny; in a way I think he’s quite interested. I told him I’d been done.”

“Did you show him?”

“Didn’t want to frighten him off, did I? Anyhow, he cheered up a bit.”

“He knew what it meant, though, circumcision?”

“Oh sure, all kids do.”

“So, that won’t be a total surprise – but obviously he doesn’t know about your other idea.”

“Not at all – would he even be here? If he knew I was taking him to the doctor to have that big cock of his cut right off – he’d be in the next county.” Dancing around all this, it was the first time Phil SAID it. And it hung in the air for a moment…

HE WANTED HIS SON’S COCK CUT OFF.

And once Phil said the words, we both relaxed, and he was on a roll. He HAD thought about this and just knew what he wanted. “Anyhow, like I said, I want him done safely and properly; I want it all gone. Start like it’s just a circumcision and then – however you want to do it (hell, you’re the doctor) but if your knife should slip up a bit, or a LOT – that would probably be the best way, so it looks like it’s not all planned out. But I know you’re a good doctor, and I know you’ll take good care – but I DO want it as clean as possible – no stumps or half jobs – all the way down to the root, GONE.” His voice became low and mean, almost hateful. “I want the lad and ruined forever – the boy needs to be brought down a peg or two. This is the only way. The best way...” He paused, surprised at his authority. I could see his own little cock leaking pre cum profusely – or had he even cum in his trousers? – and the crotch of his pants was wet and sticky – maybe he HAD cum. He continued. “But safely. I don’t want him bleeding to death or anything like that. He is my son.” Phil’s voice trailed off, and it was quiet for what seemed like a long time. Christ, after that – I thought I would shoot in my trousers any minute!

“Gotcha. I think I can manage that, Phil. You’d be surprised what can be done in the medical sense, yet still keep things safe – relatively speaking anyway. Now, once I remove his foreskin – then just go for broke, do my best, so to speak?”

Phil’s head was spinning at the thought of his boy’s cock being removed by this very helpful doctor. “Yes. Yes. I don’t want any chance of corrective surgery when he grows up. Permanent. Forever.” He was so intense at this point; his voice was at a whisper.

“Trust me, Phil, it will take a LOT of correcting to repair what I will do to your boy.” I knew exactly how to handle this, and I said so. “But what about his testicles? His balls?” There was no mention of the lad’s balls! “It might look a bit strange, to say the least – your lad without a cock and those big balls just hanging there. THAT would look VERY odd indeed, Phil.”

Phil had not even thought about this, but quickly he decided – and surprised me by how much he knew about anatomy. “If he keeps his balls, he still makes hormones, right? He’ll still be a MAN, right?”

“Well, yes, but…” I considered the prospect.

Phil followed his thought. “But a man who’s making hormones and he has NOTHING TO USE THEM WITH. No cock – no FUCK. Balls, and LOTS of hormones – and nothing he could do about it. What would you call that, doc?” He seemed ready to explode with excitement, just thinking about his lad’s body – making all those hormones, wanting to fuck around and nothing to do about it.

“I would call that frustration, Phil. Complete and utter FRUSTRATION.”

And needless to say, Phil liked that idea very much indeed!

“Very well. Do you want to be here, do you want to watch his operation?” Of course you do, I thought and watched Phil’s cock. It twitched again against that sticky patch.

“I suppose so,” he said. “Best to make sure it’s done right, eh Doc? Anyhow, it’d be interesting. Especially since I couldn’t see a thing when mine was done.”

“Right. Next, circumcision and surgery and a penectomy can be painful. Well, you know that.” I paused to make sure he got the message. “With the proper anaesthetic things can be completely painless, but without it…”

A pause as a smile slowly crept over Phil’s lips and a gleam came to his eyes.

“Do you want him to have an anaesthetic?”

I noticed his huge bulge twitch and he grabbed it unconsciously. That dark patch on his crotch began to get bigger; I thought he was going to come on the spot.

“Fucking Christ,” he gasped, “Oh fucking Christ. Oh, the poor little bugger. I tried not to think about that, but I admit that I HAD dreamed that we could skip the anaesthetic altogether.” His whole body seemed to relax. “I mean, the main point is for the boy to always remember the pain. So anaesthetic would be stupid, right? I mean, I know that’s going to hurt and I want it to hurt very much, but I didn’t say anything because being a doc I thought you’d never agree to it; I thought you’d insist on giving him a jab or something. But since you are asking me, as his father… Christ, no. Certainly not. Don’t use anything. Nothing at all.”

I felt a slight movement in my own crotch and dryness at the back of my throat “Come on,” I said, in a very unconvincing voice “It’s good for him to learn to take some pain in his life. It will do him good.”

“Yes,” Phil said, “but I’ve had it done to me, remember. I know what it’s like. It’s not just a LITTLE pain - God, would you really do that to my boy? For me?”

I WAS going to cum. “I need your signature.”

“You’ve got it.”

I knew I had.

“And I can watch?”

“Sure. Just one more thing. When?”

“Soon as you like.”

I looked at my watch. “OK, Strike while the iron is hot. I’ll get rid of my secretary, and we’ll do it now. One of the nice things about this is that it’s all perfectly legal. You’re his father and I’m his doctor, like you said. But I don’t think we really want witnesses. I think I should tell him – and only about the circumcision, nothing else.”

He sat down when Timothy came in. I went out to the waiting room and sent my secretary home. Timothy was sitting there, looking apprehensive. I called him into the consulting room.

“I’m sorry we took so long,” I said, “But I’ll come straight to the point. You were brought here because you were playing with yourself. I examined your foreskin, and I can find nothing the matter with it, but we have decided that you should be circumcised, here and now. Your father tells me you know what that means. I am going to remove your foreskin which is the ring of skin at the tip of your penis.”

Not surprisingly, Tim looked very apprehensive, but was I wrong, or was it mixed with anticipation? I wondered if he’d maybe been curious, as some kids are, what it would be like to be circumcised. If so, he was going to find out – and then some.

I sent him to undress again behind the screen. While he did so I put a mat on the floor and positioned the light. Then I went out to the store cupboard to fetch my kit. I heard voices and wondered what they were saying to each other. Whatever it was they were silent when I came back. I waited for Timothy to finish undressing.

When Timothy came from behind the screen he was naked. He watched fascinated as I laid out the instruments for his circumcision. First I laid out the needles and the sutures on the sterile tray. I took the clamp with which I would seize the foreskin to draw it forward. Then from a sealed pack I took a scalpel. I remembered the article I had read, and thought that if a witch doctor with a rusty razor blade could get a perfect result time after time, I could do the same with my experience and a surgical steel blade so sharp that it could slice a human hair. I showed Timothy the edge. He gazed at it horrified, but I could tell he was rather curious. I could tell that in imagination he felt it already in his flesh.

He looked long and hard at my tray of equipment. Of course there was no hypodermic needle on the tray, and he looked around cautiously; I think it was then he realised there would be no anaesthetic. His face went very pale and his fists clenched at his sides, but he tried to remain calm.

Moving slowly, almost ritually, I took a bowl and washed the boy’s genitals. The warm water and the gentle pressure bought on an almost instant erection and the boy’s cock stood upright straight in front of him. I could not see Phil, but I could tell that he was hardly daring to breathe. I dried the boy’s penis and testicles. Then I washed my own hands and dried them.

I shone the light upon the naked boy’s thick, heavy and yet defenceless penis. I studied it carefully. Without anaesthetic this operation would have to be done exactly, precisely and as swiftly as lightning – if I was to effectively remove this boys beautiful penis, and COMPLETELY as Phil had asked – no stump, he HAD seemed to emphasise - the cuts had to be exact. I knew exactly what to do; I knew exactly what Phil wanted for his only son. I had the sinking feeling that the boy knew this too as he looked at me wanly and surrendered himself and his very beautiful penis to me, his doctor. In that moment I knew he was a virgin, and after I was done modifying him, he may very well remain one for the remainder of his life. As his father said from experience: women can be cruel – and from what I knew, so can men.

This had to happen quickly. I was turning over in my head what sort of cutting pattern I should undertake - quickly thinking back to my anatomy days in college - because I had never done this, you see. Would there be much blood? With out anaesthetic, the boy would naturally pull away in pain, and I did not want him to bleed to death or spoil my work, so speed was of the essence… And I quickly resolved my plan.

I took a silicone catheter out of its plastic wrapping and showed it to Tim. “I need to insert this into your penis, Tim; I need you to relax.” There was no reason for this lad to question me, but he did look a bit apprehensive – why would the doctor put something into his penis if he was just going to remove a little flap of skin on the OUTSIDE of his cock? “Perhaps you should sit up on the table, so you’re more comfortable.” The boy jumped up on the medical table and spread his white legs apart. God, what a beautiful sight! But not for long.

I took a tube of medical lubricant and squeezed a drop onto Tim’s huge cock, smearing it all around the huge piss slit – which was so wide, my little finger almost fit into it. Phil moved closer to get a better look; the sod had never seen a catheter, I guessed. I began inserting the silicone tube into Tim’s penis (which was becoming semi-erect) and it was the easiest insertion I had ever done, no doubt because his piss hole was so wide. The lad winced as I pushed the tube all the way inside of him, and seemed to wince as the last few inches reached his bladder. A few stray drops of urine dribbled out the end and then stopped. The thought crossed my mind that I had not shaved the boy down, first – but that would have made him very suspicious indeed – and besides…. He had so little crotch hair, and if my knife was sharp (and it WAS) it shouldn’t be a problem.

I rubbed Tim’s crotch area down with some alcohol and picked up my trusty, favourite scalpel. I took a deep, deep breath. Then with my left hand I held up Tim’s long, thick cock – looking a bit silly with that red tube sticking out of it - and with my thumb and forefinger, I held up his droopy foreskin, pulling it forward as hard as I could. His cock was already beginning to stiffen and the boy gave a sharp intake of breath from surprise and pain. Then I took the scalpel in my right hand. The blade is much keener than a razor. It was hard to imagine that such a small tool could do so much damage. There was no need for kitchen scissors…

There was no mistake. I held his foreskin taut out with my two fingers. Then I struck like lightning. In two swift cuts I had run the scalpel round the outer skin. It parted cleanly, and the boy gave a gasp of agony. As the skin severed under the blade I pulled it forward, letting his fat cock droop down, but not completely – he was almost completely erect! Smiling, I turned outside-in the useless collar of prepuce covered the glans for the last time. I ran the biting steel around it and it came free. I was working so fast that Timothy had not lost that amazing erection – soon his his cock had grown to it’s maximum 11 inches. The sight of it spurred me on. Timothy’s cock was to be my masterpiece, and I did not hesitate. I pushed it upwards and the wounded boy gave a brief cry as in two quick strokes I slit out the fraenum. The boys’ foreskin was now severed, and as time was of the essence, I tossed it away. It hit the tiled floor with a bloody splat and the boy and his father stared at the piece of pale, white meat in astonishment…

Then, in keeping my promise to Phil, my artistry began. Holding the boys’ engorged penis aloft with my left hand, I took that lad’s cock and pulled it. God, it was amazing – such a beautiful piece of cock meat – and I was going to remove it! I pulled on the thick shaft again, and again – and I could see the lad’s chest heaving… Then there was a pause, and with a sudden great cry, the boys’ engorged, bleeding cock erupted in the most colossal orgasm I have ever seen. His pale body jerked forward for what seemed an eternity as the thick, hot load of cum and blood came spurting out of his bloody cock. Anatomically, it was truly a sight to behold – and I was secretly happy that he was able to experience ONE LAST EJACULATION; for there would be no more, after today. The loads of sperm spewed out of his cock head and I was covered in his sperm and blood, as were the tops of his big, white feet. Then, with another great cry, his father climaxed furiously in his own fist, spraying his cum all over his dirty briefs. I paused for a moment as my own hot load of sperm oozed into my briefs, staining my white trousers. This was truly amazing – where WAS my camera?

But I HAD to get back to work; I quickly placed the scalpel at the very base of the lad’s softening cock, pushing in ever so slightly – those words “NO STUMP” ringing in my ears – and very quickly pushed my knife into his groin, cutting IN and around his fat cock as quickly as possible. First to the left side, then to the right – this was a sharp knife! Tim’s thick penis was now severed. Quickly, I slid that fat piece of meat down the catheter tube and OFF. Knowing time was of the essence, I realised my med table was too far away to reach, so – as indecorous as it seems – I just dropped that dead piece of meat on the tiled floor. Splat. Oh, I had every intention of keeping it – when Tim and Phil were gone and I was left to clean up this mess, I would make sure to keep that cock. What I would do with it, who knows, but I was SURE that Tim’s beautiful cock would be mine.

Tim’s cock was now completely gone. And despite the incision that remained, there was no stump at all. I looked up quickly, in time to see the boy turning a deathly white – even whiter than he was which is almost ghostly – and I sensed he would pass out any minute. But amazingly, he did not. His eyes were back in his head and his fists were clenched at his sides, and I could even see out of the corner of my eye, on either side of me – the boy’s huge white feet with the long dirty toenails, curling into their soles, turning a bright pink. Sweet.

Mindful of the time (and PHIL, he was so close behind me, he could have been in my pocket, for Christ’s sake!) I knew it was time to reroute Tim’s urethra. I leaned the boy back, ever so slightly, to get closer to his perineum, and he just fell back, swooning, and amazingly with some kind of instinct – spread his pale, thin legs even wider so I could get close. Our eyes met for an instant, and rather than fear or anguish, he looked at me with a gentleness and resolve that I have never seen on the face of a fifteen year old boy. I then realised that there were no tears, and he had not cried out once. Instead, a far off look of resignation? But I had to look away, to do this right – I could have stared into those blue eyes all day, if I had a mind to! Using my scalpel, I cut a v-shaped opening between his balls and his asshole. The opening pointed forward. Then I quickly reached in through the hole (Damn! No gloves!) where Tim’s penis had been and pushed the urethra backward until it reached his new pisshole. I pulled the urethra through this new hole; it extended several inches beyond the opening, and quickly grabbing my needle and sutures, I quickly stitched up the new hole, keeping the urethra in place and stitching around it. I cut the pisstube even with the hole and stitched it there. The lad fell back at this point, and went completely limp - passed out from shock – but surprisingly, there was not a lot of blood. Amazing. I quickly sutured up the front of his groin, making the tiniest possible stitches, and pulling the skin as tightly as possible – hoping to make the lad’s crotch as smooth as possible.

I stopped, my work done – and I was just a BIT proud. I had never performed a penectomy, and here my first was probably the best. I quickly looked at my brilliant suturing work – few scars if any – and a crotch that would be nice and smooth, with NO STUMP. Perfection. Of course, Tim still had those huge balls of his – looking just ridiculous hanging between his legs, but at least when he was clothed; they would give him SOMETHING of a bulge. Little did that girl (or boy?) know when they got this one home, what they would find in Tim’s trousers – or rather, NOT find! Plus, Tim would have a new way to piss: he would have to sit down just like girls did. No more standing at urinals or in front of the toilet. No more writing his name in the snow. Every time he went into a public bathroom, the other men would hear him piss just like girls did. But perhaps he would grow to LIKE pissing like that. Perhaps.

I looked back at Phil, his heavy breathing fast and quick, even after shooting his little cum load. I could see in Phil’s eyes the memory of his own mutilation, and the happiness that HE had gone one better for his only boy. He was happy at last to give his only son what he felt he deserved, and thus – he had done his duty as a father. He had IMPROVED his boy, as he saw it – an all around improvement.