An English Teen,
Circumcised in the USA

by Riley Jericho


To most at school, it was just an ordinary Friday—as ordinary as Scott Landon being a bullying prat who needed his ass kicking. Luke used to be friends with Landon, but the guy had turned into a real shithead, and like all bullies, was basically weak. So who cared how much his old man made? Then there was that unexpected French vocab test and, to add a little drama, some kids got into a fight that would probably get them both suspended.

To Luke, all of it seemed irrelevant that day.

It had been touch and go getting away from school without having to answer difficult questions, but Simon had played along and kept Ryan and the others occupied talking about soccer over lunch while Luke had slipped out. He hadn’t been sure what he’d tell them when he went in again on Monday morning—he hadn't really got that far. In fact, his preparations for making it through that day had only ever got as far as the school parking lot! After that there would be a whole bunch of unknown that he would face as he needed to. He’d shrugged—he’d think of something.

He’d made it to the school office without being spotted. When he’d handed in his permission slip at the desk, the old bat had glared at him with beady-eyed suspicion, but let him go. His mum had been already waiting in the van and he’d got out the door as fast as possible.

That day, the weather had turned close and humid, the gathering clouds, like him, darkly brooding. With only a few hours left after months of waiting, all that remained was to dwell on those questions he’d always managed to put to one side: was he making a mistake, was it going to hurt, what if the surgeon botched it and left him horribly disfigured?

As he and his mum pulled away from the school, the rain began. He didn't feel like talking and they drove in silence through the downpour with only the swish of the wipers to interrupt the few words they exchanged. This time his mum knew where she was going and the traffic was light. Retracing the previous journey, they made good time around the 285 before threading in towards the city.

Pulling into the parking lot of the medical center and parking, his mum killed the engine and sat back. "Well, here we are then," she said—unnecessarily, it seemed to Luke—he could see where they were, well enough.

She glanced at her watch. “We’re a bit early.”

Luke grunted. Outside, the weather seemed to be clearing, and he glanced through the rain-pocked side window over towards the one story, red and grey stone building. He felt tense and tried to avoid licking his lips. All at once, it seemed frighteningly real. They were actually about to go in, and it dawned on him that, if all went to plan, the next time he sat in this seat, it would be done; he'd be properly circumcised.

After all the waiting, it was almost going too quickly now!

As they waited, the rain stopped, and he took stock. Despite his misgivings, the previous couple of weeks of living as a closeted gay kid at school had been…well, like any other week. Nothing was tattooed onto his forehead. Nobody confronted him and said they’d noticed a huge change, and knew why. No other ‘gay’ marks were apparently secretly inscribed on him as a warning to others. At the same time, he gave his friends absolutely no reason to think he was any different, either. He was just ordinary Luke Summers, and life went on.

The previous night, the night before ‘C Day’, he’d taken ages to get to sleep. It felt almost like another Christmas Eve. Restless, he'd tossed and turned for most of the night, sleeping badly. It was only in the last couple of hours before the alarm went that he'd finally fallen into a deep sleep and dreamed something quite bizarre. Even that had been a bit…well, suffice it say, he’d woken quite agitated and with a serious woody! He knew it was just a stupid dream, because he honestly couldn't believe that some surgeon could say, 'Luke, for this next bit, I need you to have an erection!'

They wouldn't need him to do that, surely?

Would they?

Staring at the looming building, he grimaced. Get a GRIP for God's sake, Summers!

As he and his mum waited in their minivan, a couple of boys walked out of the building with their mom. One was a bit shorter than the other, but both looked quite young.

Nibbling absently on a fingernail as he watched them cross the wet tarmac, he considered them curiously, wondering if they had just had ‘it’ done, too. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but if Tiberius was a circumcision specialist, then he probably did lots of them.

How many was lots in a week? Five? Ten? Twenty? From where Luke was sitting, it did look like the younger one was walking quite gingerly, and Luke wondered if one—or even both of them—had some new piece of hardware welded to their parts, and had been circumcised, just like he was about to be?

Perhaps Friday was a surgery day?

Trying not to stare too obviously as they passed in front of the van, he even thought he could see the shape of what was probably the SmartKlamp mechanism poking out of the youngest boy’s jeans!

Unexpectedly, the kid gathered speed and took a running jump onto the back of his brother, who obliged, careering around the car park with him. Laughing and shouting, they jumped in and out of puddles, watched but otherwise ignored by their mom who was chatting on her mobile.

Luke shook his head imperceptibly and flicked his eyes away. GET A GRIP AND GROW UP, LUKE! It was clear that neither of them had just had any kind of surgery!

Finally, the three got into their car and drove off, leaving Luke alone with his mum once more. She reached over to the back seat to retrieve her purse as well as a folder that contained all his papers. Briefly, she checked the paperwork and then her watch. As he studied her, he tried to find the right words that wouldn't offend.


“Mmmm, sweetheart?” She remained concentrated on sheaving through the folder of papers.

“I’d like to do this by myself this time…just me and the doctor, and you wait outside till it's finished…in the waiting room…”

The look of surprise she gave him as her head flicked up was not one that seemed to come from a parent who expected to be excluded from her little boy’s medical treatment. Neither did it surprise him. “For the actual surgery bit, I mean,” he added hurriedly. “I'm sure it’ll be fine and he can always call you if needed."

Surprise hardened to dubious and he could see she was looking for the right way to deny him. He groaned inwardly. This wasn't a battle she was going to win, but he didn't want to have to face combat—not right then when he had other things to worry about.

“Sweetheart, I think it’s probably best if—”

“Mum." He interrupted her, trying to stop it getting out of hand. Maybe it needed something more direct. “I don't want you there—I need to do this by myself!” Feeling breathless, he gritted his teeth and stood his ground, but still felt guilty as she blinked.

“It’s just that I’m nearly sixteen and, well…you know…” God please get it…

She did. With relief, he could see her attempt at ‘not a chance’ become something else. “You've grown up fast haven't you Luke...and well..." She grappled for words that sufficed, and her face softened. She sighed and finally made her decision.

"Fair enough—I get what you're saying. You need a little privacy. If it's what you want, then that's what we'll do. I'll stay in the waiting area until it's completed. But..." the protective parent resurfaced, " have to promise me that if there's anything that you don't understand or are unclear about, then you'll call me in. ANYTHING, okay?"

"Absolutely! I promise, Mum." Nodding effusively, Luke already knew that he never would. He knew far more about the procedure than her anyway. But it wasn’t just that, it was…well, some things were private—even from mothers. Maybe especially from mothers!

“And thanks…” he added, grateful that she got the message.

"Well, there's no point in hanging around here," she pronounced. Business-like once more, he knew it was her way of coping. "We might as well go in."

They climbed out of the van a few moments later, stepping into the humid, damp afternoon, then crossed the parking lot and entered the cool air-conditioning of the building.

“Oh, hello again,” chirped the familiar, pretty receptionist once Luke and his mum had crossed the foyer to reach her desk. She seemed to know exactly who they were without them explaining. “He won't be long. Just take a seat for a few minutes. I can take the forms if you have them."

Luke was impressed she didn’t even have to look at whatever notes she had in front of her to know who they were, and assuming those notes indicated why they were there, was also grateful she didn’t announce to the rest of those waiting that he was about to be clipped!

“Nice girl, don’t you think?” his mum murmured as they took a couple of plush chairs just a few down from an old lady with brown wrinkly skin who seemed to be having a conversation with herself.

“Don’t tell me you know her mother, too?” Luke muttered, fearing where this might be heading.

“Of course not—don’t be silly, Luke. It’s just pleasant to find a polite and helpful receptionist these days; one that doesn’t sit chewing gum and texting non-stop!”

“Oh, I guess so.” She was right though, the girl was not only efficient, but pretty, too. The fiery, red hair wasn't overly long and he couldn't even recall if she wore makeup or not. If she did, you couldn't tell.

As they waited, he glanced around the waiting area. Compared to their last visit, there were quite a few more there that day, so he guessed—rightly—that there were probably a number of doctors who had offices in the same building. It made sense. Surely not all those gathered in the waiting area had appointments with the guy he was seeing.

Over the next few minutes, people came and left, and the old lady to their right continued to mutter. Nobody paid the slightest bit of attention to the mother and her inwardly apprehensive teenage son, until...

“Luke Summers?”

Both of them looked up expectantly as the receptionist called out Luke’s name. He and his mum stood, and, no doubt with nothing better to do, all eyes turned on them—beady glares communicating a message the same the world over. How come he got in before me? I’ve been here ages!

Approaching her desk once more, the receptionist gestured them to the passageway he knew led to the Doctor's office. “Just go straight through,” she said, “Then all the way down to the end, turn left and it’s just on the left. I'll see you shortly.”

They followed the directions and Luke recognized the path they had trodden on the previous occasion. Arriving at the familiar door, he tapped. A friendly though muffled voice called, “Come in!!”

Opening the door, Luke peeked in.

“Ah, hello again, Luke!” A. Jonathan Tiberius raised his head from the desk at which he was pecking one-fingered at a keyboard. The office was as Luke had remembered it, and he glanced over at the partially screened couch where, shortly, he expected to end up. He studied it with a growing knot of apprehension. Last time he was here, he could hardly wait—now he wasn't so keen with some of the reality that came with getting your dick skinned!

“Come on in, the two of you,” said Tiberius. Luke’s gaze came back to land on the doctor as Tiberius stood, and he attempted a relaxed grin whilst he held the door open for his mum to let her in first. “And good afternoon Mrs. Summers,” Tiberius added, abandoning the keyboard as they ventured into the room. Shaking both their hands warmly, he gestured them towards the familiar sofas.

“As you can see, my daughter has convinced me to enter the computer age!” His eyes glinted in amusement. “So far, the machine and I are having a clash of wills! However, enough of that! How are you both today?”

“We're quite well, thank you, Doctor." Lucy replied for both of them, and Luke chose not to mention the butterflies flitting around his insides.

"Call me Jonathan, please," Tiberius said as he settled onto one of the sofas.

Luke perched himself on the edge of the soft, brushed leather, too, and waited patiently whilst his mum and Tiberius chatted amiably about the weather and family, eventually getting round to make sure everything was in order. There were a couple of copies of the booklet the doctor had given him the last time, sitting on the table, and he picked one up and glanced through it to occupy himself.

Eventually, as promised, his mum made her exit.

"I'll be leaving you both to it this time, so I put my baby in your capable hands, Jonathan!"

Oh for goodness sake! Mothers! Luke rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You don't need to be so melodramatic, Mum—I'm sure I'll survive!" It was the most he'd said since they'd arrived.

But Tiberius, who was probably quite familiar with panicky parents who needed a treatment plan as much as their offspring, nodded with a calm confidence. "Of course, Lucy, of course. We’ll probably be around forty-five minutes to an hour altogether. As you know, the procedure is quite straightforward and I'll let you know as soon as it's completed."

She nodded, and looked reasonably satisfied. Giving Luke a quick motherly kiss, she left, passing the receptionist at the door, the latter giving Luke a friendly wave as she proffered Tiberius a folder of notes.

Luke chewed his lip. An hour? That long? From what Tiberius had said about the procedure last time, he expected fifteen or twenty minutes max!

If Tiberius was at all surprised that his mum had left him alone, he didn't show it, and after seeing her out, returned to the sofas, bringing the folder with him. Perching on the edge, he opened up the papers onto the table and quickly scanned the contents while Luke waited.

"So, Luke," he said at last, sitting back, "everything seems to be in order. And how about you? Feeling ready to go ahead? You know we can always postpone if you still have any worries or concerns."

"No, sir," Luke lied, speaking a lot more confidently than he actually felt at that point. He glanced at the recently closed door. Was it really a good idea for Mum to have left him? Still, ready or not, there was no way he was backing out now. "I'm ready if you are!"

"Well said, young man!" The returned smile was reassuring, though Luke suspected Tiberius wasn't taken in by the bravado. "Firstly though, why don't we take a few minutes to find out what will best suit you? Did you read through the material I left with you after our last appointment?"

"This one?” Luke pounced on the booklet for reassurance, feeling on safe ground as he flipped through the familiar, colorful pages. “With the descriptions about styles you mean? Yes, sir. "

"And did you come to any conclusions?" Tiberius probed.

"Yes —high and tight I think. Well, kind of tight...but not so that it looks weird or anything…but not loose, or low. Tight…ish…” He trailed off and cringed at the total hash he’d made—and they hadn’t even properly got going! “Does that make sense?"

Though it came out in a bit of a garbled stream, Tiberius didn’t seem perturbed by the tangle. "I think it makes perfect sense Luke. It’s the kind of circumcision that most young men opt for, and what I would have recommended. But, even so, let’s take a few minutes to go through the booklet again and discuss some of the options shall we? Just to be sure."

Tiberius didn't seem in any rush to get his scalpels out, so Luke nodded as the doctor picked up a second copy of the same booklet Luke was holding. Tiberius scanned the pages briefly, seeming to gather his thoughts, before looking up to his patient over the top of his gold-rimmed spectacles.

"As I said last time, people decide to be circumcised for all kinds of reasons, and often have quite definite expectations of the outcome they are hoping to achieve. Now while your circumcision is to treat your phimosis condition, I had the impression that you had given it quite a lot of thought before you came to visit me?”

He paused, giving room for a response, and Luke decided to just be honest, knowing he needed the best advice he could get. “Well, yes, I guess so. It’s true I had no idea about the phimosis until you explained it. It's just I kind of wanted to be circumcised anyway…because...”

Tiberius didn’t even blink as he filled in the gap. “I’m guessing most of your peers are?”

"Yes, sir." Luke shrugged. Feeling a little awkward, he studied one of that week's bananas in the bowl. “I know it’s meant to be cleaner and healthier and everything, but I also don’t want to keep being the odd one out, if you know what I mean.”

Again, Tiberius didn’t seem surprised, and nodded reassuringly. “So, how it looks is important to you too—not just how it works?”

Luke nodded and, with a little more confidence, grinned cheekily. “I could still do with it working properly, though!”

That brought forth an amused chuckle.

“And so it shall, young man!” Tiberius winked and Luke began to relax at last. “Now, do you understand the difference between ‘High’ and ‘Low’?”

“Yep—I think so." It was like getting that one question that you'd hope for on an exam paper. The one you actually knew you could ace! "A high circumcision is when most of the inner foreskin is retained and the scar where it joins the rest of the skin ends up being higher up the shaft. And a low one is when most of the foreskin is trimmed away and the rest is attached quite near the top—near to the glans.”

“You nailed it! I'm impressed!" Tiberius sounded it, too, and Luke tried not to appear smug. "You certainly know your stuff, young man—that’s exactly right. And my advice is to always try to maintain as much of the inner foreskin as possible. It’s an amazing piece of skin tissue, with a huge number of sensitive nerve endings built into it; always keep it if you can.”

"So why..." Luke paused, unsure if he was allowed to interrupt.

"Go on..." Tiberius nodded encouragingly. "Ask away—there are no wrong questions today."

“Well, I was just wondering—why do people ever have a low one, and cut it all away?” In his mind's eye, he could see Kieran’s low-cut wanger. “What’s the point? Is it just to look better?'

“That's correct," Tiberius replied. "It's aesthetics mainly." He turned one of the pages in the booklet to explain. “For example, this man here has chosen a low circumcision. You can see where the small amount of foreskin he's retained has been sutured extremely close to the sulcus. The benefit is that there is hardly any noticeable scar line. The downside is the loss of sensitivity.

"How bad is it?" Apart from Kieran, Luke could reel off a bunch he knew who were done like that. "The loss of sensitivity, I mean?"

Tiberius took the question with ease. "A lot of boys are circumcised in that particular way as babies—even more from your parents’ generation. It was more the norm in those days, and there are still many doctors who perform the procedure in that standardised way today." His expression remained optimistic. "That said, for most it's not debilitating in any way, and there's still plenty of sensitivity around the glans and sulcus.”

Debilitating? Luke wondered what that meant. As in having no feeling? As in not being able to wack off?

"It comes down to what's individually important,” Tiberius continued. “Some—particularly those who, for whatever reason, are being circumcised as adults—are less comfortable with a potentially unsightly scar line. By making the cut lower down, closer to the sulcus, it can be made quite unobtrusive.

“If you have strong feelings about that, then that approach would leave a good result for you.”

Luke shook his head. “No, I think I’d prefer it to be high.”

Tiberius seemed happy to accept it and turned a page. “If you’re wanting a high circumcision, it will be like this one." He pointed to a picture that Luke had studied on many occasions. “And like this, we’ll put the scar higher up the shaft to maintain as much of the inner foreskin as possible. Aesthetically, it will certainly be more obvious than in a low circumcision, but if you are comfortable with the appearance, then it’s a better. If, in time, you decide you prefer something less visible, then we can always redo it to leave the scar lower—however, you can’t go the other way. Once the foreskin is removed, you can’t get it back.”

Luke’s eyes widened. “People get circumcised more than once?” Even he hadn't picked up on that one in his research.

“Actually, on more occasions than you would imagine!” Tiberius remained serious. “Often it’s because the original circumcision was poorly done, leaving an unsightly appearance.” He pointed to the book again. “But for sure it’s better to get it right first time!”

Continuing, he said, “With a high circumcision, there’ll be a slight difference in the skin tones along the shaft.”

Luke knew about the skin tone changes that were obvious with the adults photographed for the book, but something still niggled. “But it’s not that way when done in kids? Are they done differently?”

Tiberius shook his head. "Not particularly, Luke. It’s basically the same operation, but for a boy circumcised at birth, by the time they get to your age and with the stretching of the skin and natural growth, it’s usually hard to notice any scarring or skin tone changes. But that reminds me of something else that we should just touch on…” Tiberius flipped back several pages to one of the examples that carried one of the brown circumferential rings that intrigued Luke.

"Additionally, there are also some slight differences brought on by the surgical technique employed that you need to consider carefully. May I?” He took Luke’s copy of the booklet, opened it at the page they’d just had been looking at, then lay the two books side by side on the table, facing Luke. The difference was close to the top of Luke’s agenda.

“The brown ring!” he exclaimed, unable to stop himself blurting it out.

Tiberius continued as if he hadn’t heard. "Almost all the examples here are of adult circumcisions. The foreskin has been surgically cut with a scalpel and the ends joined by sutures. This can be done quite neatly, though that can also depend on the skill of the surgeon.  But as you can see, it’s almost impossible not to leave some trace of those suture marks, even when fully healed.”

Luke looked carefully and could see what Tiberius meant. Turning the page back to the example of a low circumcision, even there, though the sutures were very close to the sulcus, he could still see the small, pock-marked scars.

Tiberius said, “For the majority of adults, because of the thickness of the skin, there's often no other option other than to use sutures.”

“And the brown ring?” Luke pressed. Surely there was more to discover? “Why do most of the guys my age have a mark like that?”

“Indeed they will do, because the majority of RIC boys are circumcised in this country with either a Plastibell or a Gomco Clamp.”

They were familiar terms that had come up in his online research and an image of the heavy looking metal Gomco Clamp that looked rather like an orange squeezer, popped up in Luke’s memory.


“Oh, excuse me, RIC stands for Requested Infant Circumcision—circumcisions done on boys as babies or young toddlers. Both the Gomco and Plastibell devices operate by applying crushing pressure to the skin for a period of time. The pressure seals blood vessels and induces fusion around the full circumference of the circumcision wound, usually superseding the need for sutures. However, often there can still be some leakage from the blood vessels. Over time, those blood sediments resolve into what becomes a distinctive and permanent, brownish-tinted, annular band.

At last! He didn’t really get most of what the Doc was saying, but he got the important bit. “Didn’t you say that the SmartKlamp also worked by crushing?”

“That’s correct Luke, and exactly the point.” Tiberius seemed to be studying him carefully to gauge his reaction. “If we use the device, the outcome, over time, may—and I only say may—lead to the same characteristic annular pigmentation. It’s unlikely to be anywhere near as pronounced as you will have noticed with your peers, but there all the same.”

Luke sat back, trying to digest the import of this new knowledge. A few moments later, he leaned forward again. “Just to be clear, are you saying that I’m going to end up with a scar and possibly brown ring from this?”

Tiberius mistook Luke’s concern and pursed his lips. “Luke, if you need some more time to think about it, there’s no rush. Perhaps it was remiss of me not to have properly explained this to you before today.  We can always reschedule to another day and arrange for your circumcision to be done without a SmartKlamp and use sutures if you prefer?”

“Yes…I mean no…” Luke said, the words falling over each other trying to get out. Tiberius cocked his head questioningly.

“Sorry,” Luke added, straightening it out. “I mean no, we don’t need to reschedule and yes, I’d like it to be done with the SmartKlamp.”

“Are you sure?”

 "Yes, sir. Honestly, I really don’t want to be any different from anyone else. This way, it’ll look like I was always circumcised, won't it? Just like my friends. I want that.” I don’t want to look any different to Ry. “If by doing it with a SmartKlamp means I’ll have the same kind of marking, that’s good!”

Tiberius seemed to study him and Luke wondered if he’d revealed too much. “Well then, young man,” he pronounced much to Luke’s relief, “SmartKlamp it will be!”

With that seemingly decided, Tiberius returned to the booklet. “Now, we were talking about high and low circumcisions. High and tight, right?”

Luke nodded. “But not too tight.”

“I agree. To minimize the visibility of any residual scar, we should not make it too tight.”

“I don’t want it very loose though…” Luke pressed. Not a ‘half and half’! Who the hell would want to look like Todd!

Tiberius seemed to understand. "A reasonably tight circumcision will keep the foreskin off the glans at all times, but that needs to be balanced with the need to retain enough slack to allow for growth if you get what I mean.”

Though his demeanour and manner remained overtly professional, the doctor’s eyes held a mischievous twinkle. Luke knew exactly what the guy meant and had to grin. Yet, for some reason—maybe because Tiberius was a professional who dealt with this kind of stuff all the time—he wasn't as embarrassed as he thought he might be. He nodded happily, feeling quite glad that his mother wasn’t there to hear any of it. The jitters that had plagued him through the morning had dissipated. This was going to be great!

“Of course,” Tiberius suggested, “we also don’t have to complete a full circumcision to deal with the Phimosis. It’s also possible just to release the restriction with what’s called a dorsal slit.”

Luke had seen the description of that option, too, and shook his head firmly. “No—I want to be circumcised.” He hadn’t come so far to be put off with a little snip at the end.

“I think it’s best too—and in fact the dorsal slit procedure doesn’t always lead to a good outcome and can leave to a lot of hanging skin that becomes unsightly. However, it’s my job to make sure you know all the options.”

“High and tight-ish, then?” Luke said, wanting there to be no confusion. He only had one shot at this.

“Exactly. The glans will be always be clear, and if we leave just enough looseness of the outer foreskin, then there will be a slight bunching in what remains—enough to be able to hide the final scar line in the folds. How does that sound?”

"Yep, that's want I want,” Luke nodded, leaning forward eagerly. “Can you do that with this SmartKlamp you're going to use?"

"A great question, and yes I can Luke. It takes a bit of care in arranging the positioning of the foreskin before we fully engage the mechanism, but we can certainly achieve the right outcome by this method.” Seeming to have finished, Tiberius replaced the booklet on the table and sat back. "So, I think that's all the bases covered. What about you? Do you have any more questions?"

Luke shook his head. He was good to go!

Tiberius seemed satisfied and made ready to stand. “Good. If you’re ready, shall we proceed?"

Luke savoured the moment, unable to avoid licking his lips this time. His eyes flicked towards the medical couch with its privacy curtain that was waiting for him in the corner. This was it. It would be hard to stop if, right now, he said yes—there would be no going back once he gave the final word. It was a one-way journey, but this particular journey had already been a long one and he was more than ready to complete it!

Four words were all it took as he nodded eagerly. "Yes sir, I'm ready."

"Excellent! Come along with me then, young man! Let's get you prepped and ready."


Tiberius stood, but instead of moving towards the awaiting couch, he stepped towards the door. For a moment, Luke was unbalanced by the fact that the doctor seemed to be going the wrong way, diverging from the well-laid plan Luke’s his head.

The door was opened and Tiberius waited.

This wasn't how it was meant to go! What was meant to happen was that Luke would just hop onto the bed in the doctor’s office; the same one he had been on last time. He was more prepared this time and ready to pull his pants down—just a bit, like it had been on the previous visit. At that point the doctor could quite quickly slip on this Klamp thing, and that would be it! Admittedly the details were a bit sketchy, but Luke was sure he had it all worked out. That all went out of the window as he stood, too, and, skirting the furniture, followed Tiberius out of the door and into the corridor towards some unknown destination to be 'prepped'.

And what did that mean—prepped?

Some kids seemed to go to prep school—but that was hardly the same thing. Every step away from the familiar, carpeted office was disconcerting, and belatedly, a big part of him wished he had got his mum stay after all.

Without any more chatter, Tiberius strode ahead down uncharted corridors.

As Luke hurried in his wake, it took all the trust he’d built up in the surgeon over the two visits not to turn and bolt. They pushed further into the complex and the framed pictures petered out; the deep pile of the dark red carpet abruptly gave way to a hard, unforgiving surface. Finally, they arrived at the entrance of what turned out to be a medium sized, windowless surgical theatre.

As he stood at the doorway, he could see a black surgical bed set alone in the middle of the space, waiting ominously under a powerful looking medical light. Luke could see that the space was bereft of any color that offset the predominance of theatre green and white. Lined with cupboards, it smelt so much of hospitals that his nose flared with that familiar antiseptic odor. The work surfaces were stacked with intimidating trays wrapped in sterilized packing, and an annex off to the right seemed to hold sinks and more storage.

But those were not the things that were the most intimidating. What really landed a punch as he stood at the door was that he could see that someone else was already there.

“Hello again, Luke!” chirped the attractive young lady—girl—that he’d previously only seen on the reception desk.

Oh hell! What the fuck was she doing here?


Since she had last greeted him when she'd dropped off the files to the Tiberius, she’d miraculously changed from a receptionist’s dress-suit into what was obviously some kind of surgical gown, though she wore that with the same classy elegance that she probably wore everything. She struck quickly, taking control and directing his uncertainty with something that came across with a little more than a ‘give it or take it’ suggestion!

"Luke, if you could undress,” she said, pointing to one corner as both she and Tiberius started bustling around the room making preparations, “you can lay your clothing just over the chair there."

Luke’s eyes swivelled to find the lone chair exactly where she said it would be. He swallowed uneasily. Undress? Now? With people watching? However, Tiberius and the girl no longer seemed interested in him or his qualms. It certainly didn’t appear that they were waiting for a response from him that could then become a negotiation of who should be in the room just then.

He moved to the chair and tried to gather his composure, a myriad of question bouncing around his head. What if there was more? If they needed him naked, were there going to be other surprises, too...?

“You just need to make an erection.”

He turned fast, sure that he'd heard the doctor say those very words that came straight out of a nightmare.

Oh shit! “WHAT?!” Wide eyed, he half coughed. “Sorry—what did you say?”

Tiberius swung towards him, frowning without comprehension. “Oh, nothing to worry about, Luke—I was just asking Ella to make a selection of instruments for me.”

“Oh…sorry...” Luke felt like a jerk…just not that other type just then!

Get a grip!

Tiberius seemed to remember his manners and that some explanation of the presence of a girl might be in order. “Forgive me, I’ve not really introduced my surgical assistant. This is Ella, my daughter.”

His daughter?

Luke eyed her nervously. From where she was retrieving packages from a cupboard, she looked up and flashed him the same bright smile she’d given him at the reception desk.

Shit, this just got better and better!

“Ella is a med student, soon to become a qualified doctor herself,” Tiberius explained. “She’s here for a few months as part of a clinical experience placement.”

“We’ve met,” Ella grinned. “They’re a bit short staffed at the moment, so I help out at the desk sometimes, too!”

“Yes...errr, hi...again...,” Luke stammered. A med student? Well, that was a bit better and made her at least in her twenties. But she was still a girl! More to the point, neither she nor her father seemed to carry the same concern that he had—that a female was going to watch him undress. And more—much more—with her dad there too! How bad could this get? Feeling a little out of control, Luke began to divest himself of his clothing.

He was in school uniform of course, and slowly began to take it all off. Week in, week out at school, he'd done it a gazillion times, yet this was different. Way different!

Jacket and tie first, then he slipped off his shoes and socks. Finally, as if on a terrible losing streak in a game of strip poker, the shirt and pants went until all that remained to cover the nakedness and designer stubble were the white tee he wore under his school shirt and his boxers. All of it was folded carefully onto the chair; denied to him until the deed was done.

It had taken ages to decide which pair of boxers to wear that day, and he’d taken his time looking for a pair that looked smart and not too daggy. To be honest, choosing his underwear each day often took more time than anything else—certainly on a school day where the rest of the uniform wasn't a choice. For the most part, he only had loose pairs of the more common black, white or grey boxers, but he still liked to make a choice and didn't just grab the first pair at the front of his undies drawer each morning!

His tidiest pairs were the grey ones from the pack his mum had recently added to her shopping cart on his behalf, but for today, he’d chosen black. They were quite common for guys, and he also figured they wouldn't show up blood if there happened to be any! He stood in them now, freakishly nervous about taking the final step to remove the remaining protection that would reveal both his dick and the evidence of his recent transformation.

* * *

Extract from Luke’s notes:

I wasn’t sure what would have been worse—having Mum in the room, or getting naked with the daughter of the surgeon who was about to cut into my privates! And did she have to be so damn pretty?

As she busied herself opening surgical packets, they both seemed to have forgotten that I was even there, chatting away and making things ready. Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at her suspiciously, wondering if she were waiting for a good moment to peek at me.

Okay, I admit, I was more than a bit paranoid!

I put it off as long as I dared, but finally there was nothing else left to take off apart from t-shirt and underwear, so I turned my back to them and pushed the boxers down to my ankles, stepping out of them, before slowly folding them (I'd never folded undies in my life before, but it’s amazing the habits you take on, just to stall for time!) neatly on the chair.

* * *

Still facing away from the audience, Luke was just about to take off his tee, when a voice behind him made him pause.

"That's fine, Luke,” said Tiberius. He sounded quite relaxed. “You can just leave the tee shirt on. We're nearly ready here, so come over and hop up on the bed."

Turning to face them, Luke tried to appear nonchalant about the fact that his wanger was hanging down with nubby pink the end of it peeping out from under his tee! As he crossed it, the surgery floor was cool on his feet and he tried not to think about bloody swabs being tossed there, like always happened on the medical shows!

Tiberius had changed too, exchanging his jacket and dress-shirt for a covering of surgical green, which, with the help of Ella, he was tying off around his back. Sitting on the bed, Luke swung up his legs, trying not to think about the now-sparse pubes which were still partially obscured by the final remaining garment.

"Some people like to see what's going on. Others prefer not to—" Tiberius raised an eyebrow questioningly as he left the option open .

"Oh—I'd like to watch, if that's okay," Luke replied. Bloody right he wanted to watch! Even if he was anxious, he wasn’t going to miss a moment! He still jumped, taken by surprise as Ella went ahead and operated the surgical bed, raising up the back so he could see more comfortably.

The Doc played the final hand of game of strip poker, and Luke lost. "Just pull up your tee shirt for me can you, Luke? And tuck it up a little so it's fully out of the way."

Oh God—moment of truth!

Luke lifted and tucked. Of course, he knew it would finally come to this, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t flustered! For as long as he could remember, he was the only person ever around when he took off his clothes, lay on a bed and manipulated his penis. To now have two additional members in that elite group—and one of them a girl not too much older than himself—was more than a bit unsettling!

He glanced at his groin and tried to remain impassive. "I, err, you it how you needed it?" Even though the trimming had been at the surgeon's request, he still felt he needed to somehow explain the trendy stubble. At the very least he was compelled to offer something to Ella, in case she thought he was gay or something! Tiberius glanced down—as did his daughter—and both studied Luke’s handiwork matter-of-factly.

"Perfect!" Tiberius beamed for both of them, apparently satisfied with Luke’s barber skills, and then laid a green surgical drape over his middle. The drape had a handy little hole in the middle and Tiberius wasted no time in poking Luke's dick through the opening. And that was it.

Luke didn't dare catch Ella’s eye. Embarrassed? Good God, it was almost unbearable! He wondered what would come next, and it wasn’t long before he found out as the surgeon took a marker pen.

"I'm going to draw a line at the place where we want to position the SmartKlamp,” Tiberius explained. “It’s easier to do that now rather than guess later."

Luke watched with interest as Tiberius took the end of his limp member and drew the skin tight, pulling it forward till the shaft skin at the base was taut. At least he didn’t need him to have an erection, he mused. Moments later, he seriously regretted that train of thought as Ella then took over the holding of his wanger, pulling it firmly and straight up, so that her father could more easily do his drawing! He tried to think of ANYTHING except what was in front of him.

Ella let him go and he flopped back down again, allowing the doctor to make another small mark where, in his flaccid state, the groove of my sulcus lay. By then something else was worrying Luke.

The room was cool, and he freakily nervous. Under its own weight, his penis seemed to have shrunk back into itself, disappearing into hardly anything! He stared at it in alarm. Surely it was usually bigger than that? Right then, his dick looked more like a toddler’s, and all he could hope was that the marks would be okay!

"Right." Tiberius seemed ready to get down to business again with the marker. "If it's high and tight we’re looking for, we'll position the SmartKlamp…” He paused a beat as Ella Ella gently tweaked Luke’s dick forward and upwards again. As a father and daughter surgical team, Luke guessed they worked well together, because she didn’t seem to need any direction. “…up"

With a practiced hand, Tiberius drew a circle of pen around the circumference of his diminishing dick. "As you can see,” Tiberius murmured, maybe as much for the benefit of Ella as for Luke, “we'll want to ensure a pleasing appearance like this."

He drew his guideline so that it was properly angled to follow the line of Luke’s sulcus. “ that should be just about right." Tiberius seemed satisfied and Luke tried to follow the marks in his head, imagining what the finished result might look like.

“Luke, we’re going to need to inject a little local anesthetic. I'm going to give you the ring block around the base of your penis, just like we talked about earlier, but first let's just use a little topical anesthetic spray to make those injections go in a little bit easier."

Ella passed her father a small aerosol canister and he sprayed some liquid around the shaft of Luke’s penis that immediately felt cold. In fact, the whole room was quite cool and Luke was glad he’d been able to keep on his tee.

Then, without being asked, Ella started painting. Him!

He’d seen enough medical movies to know that the greeny-yellow gunk she started smearing over his parts was some form of antiseptic. A cheeky grin sneaked onto her face. “You know, if it wasn’t for medicine, I think I might be an artist!” She daubed his dick with dainty theatrical strokes. “What do you think?”

What did he think? Luke didn’t know whether it was hysterically funny, slightly risqué, or rather inappropriate!

“I’d stick with the day job if I were you, Ella!” Her father sounded drily short, and Luke got the feeling his tone put the remark rather more to the ‘inappropriate’ end of the scale! As her father turned to busy himself elsewhere, Ella seemed unrepentant. She winked, and with her father’s attention diverted, threw in a few more ‘contemporary’ brush strokes for good measure.

Luke had to work really hard not to burst out laughing. Maybe she was the one that actually appreciated what he needed to help him relax? It really was funny and he decided right then that everyone needed an Ella in situations like the one he was in.

He began to breathe a little more easily.