I was 10 when my Mother had me ‘fixed’ and 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.

I was put on the medical table 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, nurses and nurse practitioners. 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 grade at school. It was a total humiliation for me.

My thing got erect when they inserted the long catheter. Everyone saw it. They took photos of me with my thing sticking up and swallowing the tube impaling it. Mother wanted all that “nasty foreskin” GONE! The nurse next door advocated its complete removal too so that I’d look ‘normal’.

The process was long and painful. They took their time so the students could observe and learn. The process was slowed down by their questions and their slow meticulous cutting. They put a rubber mouthpiece in my mouth to muffle my cries. The straps held me immobile. I could struggle against the pain but I couldn’t move. 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 my circumcision, Mother made me write a Thank You Card to each person who attended my circumcision. She also had plenty of pics 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 thing healed, but Mother decided to keep me on that medication and the doctor supplemented it with some other meds so I could not get an erection and could not m*********.

I had to take my pants down to show Mother’s friends my circumcision. Mother was delighted that it no longer got erect. She loved calling it my “Limp Noodle”.

Each year Mother held a party to celebrate my circumcision. It was the highlight of my year rather than my birthday. I was the center of attention, or my ‘limp noodle’ was. Friends, family, nurses and etc. attended for the “joyous” occasion. They were all entertained by circumcision experience and fascinated by my totally ‘limp noodle’.

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, grooved out where my frenulum once was. It looks so different and my sisters say it looks much better having a sleek, smooth trench where a protrusion once was.

There’s more but I find it unproductive to tell people because no one cares, people don’t believe me, or they say that Mother did the right thing. Some say I brought it on myself, due to my addiction to compulsive m***********. Others say that students have to learn and to practice, so it was good that I provided that opportunity to them and thus my circumcision was productive. Perhaps they are all correct.

I was very resentful at first, but there’s nothing I can do to change it. Mother had me trimmed and cut they way she wanted.