David meets the Initiation Master


	When the letter came, David felt a mixture of excitement and dread.  "This must be what it was like when you had spent your childhood playing soldiers and then your war-time call-up papers came telling you to report to the army," he thought.

	As a boy of seven, standing at the toilet for a pee with his friend Sam, he had seen that the end of Sam's cock was bare and neat.  When Sam peed, it was in a quick, straight, firm jet.  His own cock, by contrast, ended in a wrinkled foreskin.  He could never quite predict which direction the pee would go in, so he couldn't aim nearly as well as Sam did.  "Why's yours different from mine, Sam?"  "That's 'cause I've been circumcised.  All God's chosen people are circumcised.  It's the sign of the covenant God made with us.  It shows that he looks after us.  If you were circumcised, he'd look after you too."

	As soon as he saw Sam's cock he had wanted his own to be like it.  Increasingly he came to despise his own penis, with it loose, wrinkled foreskin, its "elephant's trunk" look, its inability to aim straight.  He experimented with it and found that he could pull back the foreskin, and then it did look a bit like Sam's.  But the skin never stayed there.  It always slipped forward again, into the "elephant's trunk" position.  There was always the stale smell to it when he pulled the skin back, too, and the realization that even if he washed under it every day, it never seemed really clean.  Once he had seen a graffiti reference to "dirtskin", and knew at once what it meant.

	At school the boys formed rival gangs.  There were fewer roundheads, but they always seemed to be in control in the playground.  If a new boy came, he was soon checked out in the toilets.  The lucky ones could join the roundheads.  The unlucky ones had to choose one of the 'cavalier' gangs, and from then on their chances were slim of getting through the term without being roughed up.

	David had heard from one of the older boys about the check-up in the toilet, and tried to make his foreskin stay back to keep his glans bare, but the roundheads knew that trick: they soon saw the bunch of wrinkled skin on the shaft and pulled it forward with a jerk.  From then on the nickname "E.T." followed him through school.  He tried to make out that it was because his friends thought of him as a lovable but vulnerable "Extra-Terrestrial" creature, but he knew and they knew that it stood for "Elephant's Trunk".  The name even followed him from primary to secondary school.  In bed at night he "played soldiers" with his cock.  When it stood to attention, he could make the skin stay back for as long as half an hour.  He often tried to keep it back by sleeping on his stomach, but when he woke in the morning it had slipped forward and the glans was damp and smelly again.

	In the showers at school and now at the sports club he never liked the others to see his cock with its wrinkled end.  Somehow it seemed to make his cock look smaller.  But he had also perfected the art of carefully observing other men's equipment.  Some of the other cavaliers only had thin, short foreskins which allowed the tip of the glans to peep out, and somehow they seemed neater than his.  The roundheads he saw seemed to have a self-confident swagger and always seemed pleased to show off their handsome endowments.

	Recently at work he had had to choose his next car.  Most of the others had Vauxhall Cavaliers, but he had asked for a Ford instead, because of the unpleasant associations of the name.  The Astra which he had before had "starry" associations which his mind linked with E.T. and he was glad it was going.

	So he read the letter with a mixture of excitement and fear.  At once he followed its instructions, phoning to book a hotel room in a northern town which he had never visited before, and then checking train times.  In the following ten days of waiting his imagination allowed him to picture everything he thought would happen: the pain of the operation, the dread of flinching or crying out while it was being done, the elation of becoming a roundhead at last.  He wondered whether he would faint at the sight of his bleeding penis.  Would the operator cut off too much?  Suppose the stitches pulled out if he had an erection?  What would he do then?  He wondered how long it would take to heal afterwards.  But the longed-for elation of finally being rid of his despised encumbrance of foreskin would make even all that worth while.

	All of these thoughts came back to him as he sat in the train.  But he always came back to the hope of deliverance, and the stroke of luck which had brought him into contact with the man who would free him.  So he checked into the hotel soon after lunch, left a note of his room number at the desk addressed to the mysterious "Mr Acorn", and went up to his room.  It was expensive, but it was comfortable and from the window he could look far out over the roofs of the town.  The bathroom was clean and well lit.  He unpacked his small case, including the odd assortment of items he had been told to bring, and laid them out neatly on the table.  Then he settled down to watch television and wait.

	After a while he began to think that he might be the object of an expensive hoax.  But then he heard a knock.  He turned off the television and opened the door.  The man standing there said he was Mr Acorn, and David beckoned him in.  They exchanged a few words of recognition which quickly established each other's identity.  He was of medium height and would not stand out in a crowd, but behind his glasses David noticed a determined glint.  This was the Initiation Master, into whose hands David would have to entrust not only his foreskin but power, too, over his entire manhood.

	Mr Acorn went to the door again and let in two other men, whom he introduced as his assistants.  David had never met them before, and had not expected them, but it was a bit late now to object.  Mr Acorn told the three of them to strip the bed, and then he laid a white plastic sheet on it.  Now David knew what that was for.  Then he locked the door and told the two assistants to strip off every item of David's clothing.  He watched while they did so, and then told them to strip off too.  The assistants ran a hot bath, into which Mr Acorn poured a generous dash of antiseptic fluid.  The Assistants told David to sit in it while they washed him down thoroughly, working their way down towards his cock, which received such thorough attention that it was soon as firmly erect as he had ever known it.  Meanwhile Mr Acorn was in the bedroom, where he made sure that the door was securely locked and quickly made ready the tools of his office.  Then he, too, stripped down and returned to the bathroom.

	David looked up, and could not take his eyes off what he saw.  The Master stood naked at the door.  His penis was slightly erect, and it had been tightly circumcised.  But what held David's attention was Mr Acorn's badge of office: a solid heavy silver Prince Albert ring hanging from the tip of his glans.  Anyone who had the self-control and determination to have a ring like that inserted must indeed also have the mastery which Mr Acorn claimed.

	At a command from Mr Acorn, David stood up and the Assistants dried him down, took him through to the bedroom and made him sit across the bed, with his buttocks at the edge and his legs apart.  There was a pile of bedding to support his back, so that he still had a good view of his penis.  An Assistant sat at each side of him, entwined a leg with his nearest leg. They took David's arms over their shoulders and put their own forearms over his shoulders.  David was firmly in their grip, but was also comforted by the contact of their naked bodies with his.  

	Mr Acorn approached, took hold of David's penis, and examined it minutely.  First he gripped the tip of the foreskin and pulled it so hard that David winced.  Then his left hand gripped and pressed at the base of David's penis shaft: this ensured that it stayed erect and firm.  With his right hand he pushed the foreskin back along the shaft steadily and very firmly until the glans was completely bare.  Further moves and observations followed until David wondered how long he could keep control of the mounting urge for relief.  He could see that Mr Acorn was displaying a similar level of arousal.  Then Mr Acorn took a pen and drew a neat line right round, parallel to David's glans and about five millimetres from it.  "That's where your circumcision line will be," he said.  David could only agree.  Next the foreskin was stretched firmly forward again so that the rim of the glans could clearly be seen as a ridge under the foreskin.  A corresponding mark was made on the outer skin just behind this line.  "Take your last look at your foreskin," said Mr Acorn, and David did.  Suddenly he felt quite attached to it, especially as Mr Acorn and his Assistants had treated it none too gently during their preparations.

	Once again David felt Mr Acorn's firm grip on his foreskin.  He was pulling at it even harder than before, so that the line that he had just marked was now well beyond the end of his glans.  Mr Acorn applied an instrument which lightly gripped the foreskin at the marked line.  Then he spent several minutes first checking that the line on the skin exactly matched the edge of the instrument and then pulling at the inner layer of skin and pushing at the glans.  Just as David was about to say that he hoped it would all soon be over, Mr Acorn said, "That's right now.  Keep still, keep quiet, and brace yourself."  There were two clicks as he squeezed together the handles of the instrument.  David felt a sudden pain, a sharp ache and a crushing tension.  He just managed to bite back the cry which came to his throat.  Mr Acorn placed a small plastic bowl under David's scrotum, knelt on the floor between David's legs, and reached out for the gleaming scalpel which lay among the instruments laid out on a plastic sheet on the bedside table.

	David looked at him pleadingly.  "Please hurry.  I didn't expect this.  I don't think I can bear it much longer."  Mr Acorn simply replied, "Steady, now," and bent over his task, exerting still heavier tension on the instrument, while David watched in agonised fascination.  The supporters at each side of him intensified their hold on him.

	Very deliberately, Mr Acorn moved the scalpel blade down beside the edge of the forceps.  David could feel it cutting and at the same time relieving the crushing agony of the forceps.  In a few seconds the dark red line of cut skin extended and the outer surface of skin, relieved of tension, pulled back along the shaft of his penis to reveal the blood-red inner lining still covering his glans.  As Mr Acorn's scalpel reached the end of its stroke, it steadily relieved the tension on the foreskin until it finally parted.  The shaft skin sprang back until its cut edge took up exactly the position which Mr Acorn had marked with his pen.

	David slumped in relief.  The ring of stinging pain at the edge of his foreskin was more bearable than he had expected.  He also felt almost detached from the body with its raw-ended penis on which he could look down with fascination.  He noticed a trickle of blood dripping from it into the bowl, and that his once-proud erection had vanished.

	"Don't relax yet.  There's still the inner skin to trim away."  Mr Acorn pushed one blade of his forceps along the upper surface of the glans, under the layer of inner foreskin which still covered it, closed the blades together and used them as a guide for the scissors with which he made a long cut in the raw remnant of inner foreskin, back as far as the glans rim.  Then he turned back this inner skin and told the Assistant on David's right to use a tissue in his right hand to grip the glans firmly between his forefinger and thumb.  Mr Acorn used his scissors to cut away the inner foreskin, leaving only a narrow fringe of skin about as wide as one blade of the scissors bordering the glans rim.  With each closure of the blades, David wondered whether he could stand the pain of the next one, especially as Mr Acorn worked his way round towards the frenum.  But with each cut, first round on his left and then to his right, David was also encouraged as his glans stood increasingly clear and unencumbered for the first time in its life.  "Nearly there", said Mr Acorn, as the Assistant held up David's penis so that Mr Acorn could snip away to the point which would remove the frenum.  With one final agonising snip, the foreskin fell away into the bowl.  The Assistant released his grip and allowed the wounded penis to hang down, while blood trickled from its tip into the bowl.

	David gasped with relief.  He could see that Mr Acorn and his two Assistants were throbbing with excitement.  David also noticed their look of triumph as they contemplated one more successfully circumcised penis and counted one more addition which they had made to the ranks of the roundheads.  It was almost an hour since Mr Acorn had arrived.

	"We've not finished yet.  There is the bleeding to stop and then the stitches to put in."  David had wondered why Mr Acorn's array of instruments included a miniature soldering iron: now he found out.  Mr Acorn pushed the skin with its cut edge back along the shaft, looked carefully for the places from which the blood was oozing, picked each up with the tip of a pair of forceps and touched the hot point of the soldering iron to it.  David did not feel anything much, but there was an unpleasant smell of singeing.  It seemed to work, however, and he was relieved that the flow of blood was soon reduced to no more than a slight ooze.  The two Assistants still sat beside him, and David was comforted by their support and by his bodily contact with them.

	Mr Acorn pulled the shaft skin forward again and began the slow and careful process of stitching together the two cut edges of skin.  With one pair of forceps he lifted up the edge.  Then a second pair of forceps was used to push the tiny needle through the skin.  This process was repeated for the opposing edge, the thread was drawn through, twisted and carefully knotted.  The first stitch went in underneath, at the frenum, and hurt quite a lot.  The next one went in on top, diametrically opposite it where David could see what was happening.  The third and fourth went in, one on each side.  These hurt much less, with only a small sharp pain as the needle went in each time.  Otherwise, David observed in a detached way, the main feeling was a dull and heavy pain.  Mr Acorn worked deliberately and carefully, taking his time to make sure that each stitch was accurately placed and securely tied before inserting the next.  David counted up to 32 neat little stitches before Mr Acorn stood back and at last pronounced his work finished.  "Well done.  Now you are a roundhead, with a penis freed of its foreskin and constantly bare to the world.  Congratulations."

	Then at last David allowed himself to relax.  "Thank you," he gasped.  "I have waited for this moment all my life.  It hurt like Hell, but it was worth it."  Throughout the operation he had been steeling himself not to call out or flinch --  he did not want to show Mr Acorn or his Assistants that he might be unworthy of initiation to the ranks of the roundheads.  But he also wanted to be able to remember the personal achievement of beating his own pain barrier.  With his knees he had gripped the legs of the Assistant on each side of him, and he had watched Mr Acorn's every move so that he would not be caught by surprise.  Now he lay back, and at once began shivering as the tension relaxed.  He looked at his watch: it was almost two hours since Mr Acorn had arrived to begin his task.

	Mr Acorn removed the bowl, which contained the severed pieces of foreskin and some congealed blood, and then wiped away the smears of blood which had splashed onto David's legs.  Then an Assistant helped David to his feet, led him into the bathroom, and finished washing off the splashes of blood.  David could see his newly circumcised penis in the mirror.  It hung freely between his legs, bruised and swollen.  But it was free at last of that wretched, wrinkled and ugly foreskin which had taunted David all his life with its unwanted presence.  Instead there was a neat, dark line just behind the rim of his glans where the new scarline would lie, now puckered and dark where the stitches drew together the two cut edges of skin.  His glans stood bare and proud, visible now to all the world.

	Mr Acorn let him admire himself for a while, checked that the Assistants had wiped away all the blood clots, then applied an ointment to the incision line, followed by a strip of gauze which he fastened in place with a scrap of adhesive plaster.  "Is that dressing enough?"  "Yes, you want as little as possible, then it dries out quicker.  But I'll tape this pad to your stomach.  It will protect your clothes if there is any bleeding.  Get dressed now, and keep warm.  You'll soon stop shivering."

	While David did so, Mr Acorn and the assistants busied themselves washing and tidying away the equipment.  The blood and scraps of inner foreskin were flushed away, but he carefully washed and dried David's severed foreskin, then pressed it between layers of tissue and gave it to David.  The two Assistants remade the bed.  David sat down, very carefully indeed, while Mr Acorn phoned room-service for a tray of tea and biscuits.  "The hot drink will counteract the shock symptoms which you are bound to get."

	Afterwards, David asked him how he had gained his qualifications as a Circumcision Master.  "I have been at several circumcisions.  The first time I was only allowed to watch, because I was still a cavalier.  The second time, I was the centre of attention myself.  I proved my own prowess by making the first cut myself .  A Master set it up for me, and told me what to do, but I told him I could make my own cut.  It was easy enough to start with, but I nearly gave up when the knife reached the area near the frenum.  I had to pause, but I was determined to complete the job, and eventually I did so.  My Circumcision Master thought I was being too cocky, so when I had finished the first cut he really took his time trimming away the inner skin, a scrap at a time, ending with a pull at the frenum to make sure that he removed it all."

	"The third circumcision I went to, I was an Assistant.  I sat beside the candidate, just as these two have done.  Unlike you, he struggled when the clamp was fixed and we had to hold him very firmly.  But after that he calmed down.  Then when the stitches were going in he started to moan, and we had to gag him to stop the noise."

	"After that I knew that I wanted to be an operator myself.  I have always been fascinated by the accounts I have read of African tribal circumcisions, and have read all that I could find.  So there and then, after we had finished with him, and in front of the operator and his assistants, I made the piercing for my Prince Albert.  It hurt, but I knew that if I could do my own circumcision, I could go through with this too.  If I wanted to be a circumciser I would have to.  Actually it went through quite easily.  I was a bit alarmed at how much it bled, but the circumcision Master told me it would soon stop, and actually it did.  At first the ring was only a small one, but then I stretched the hole to take the big one you saw.  These days, with AIDS about, we only ever do one operation at a session."

	"You have done very well today.  Do you want to come to a circumcision next month as an Assistant?"  To himself, David wondered whether he would have healed up enough by then.  But it would be a chance to show off his new status as a roundhead to an admiring audience.  David could only reply, "Yes please," elated at the implication that he was worthy for such an honour.

	The two Assistants left, but Mr Acorn stayed with David overnight.  They watched some television, then went down to the hotel restaurant for dinner.  David worried whether he could manage it without walking so oddly that people would wonder what was wrong with him, but nobody seemed to notice.  Afterwards they returned to the bedroom.  David badly wanted a pee, and found that so long as he just let his cock hang freely, there was no problem.  He got off to sleep quite easily, exhausted by the nervous tension of the operation, but woke at 2 am with a wooden-hard erection and in some pain.  When he turned on the light in the bathroom he was glad to see that all the little stitches were still holding together firmly.  Then he sat and read quietly until the erection went down.  It helped, Mr Acorn said, if he didn't get too warm under the bedclothes.  David managed to get comfortable again, and slept soundly until morning.

	Before David dressed, Mr Acorn put on a new dressing and changed the protective pad for a clean one.  He told David that the scar-line would continue to ooze a clear, slightly bloody fluid for a few days, but if he kept the dressing in place he should have no problems.  If it stuck to the wound, he should make up a solution of table salt in cool boiled water and soak it off.  He should not use antiseptic solution on the cut, as this would slow healing.  The stitches should stay in for a week, and then David should taken them out using tweezers and scissors.  The main risk was bleeding, and that was why Mr Acorn had stayed overnight, but clearly that would be no problem now.  Of course David should make sure that all dressings and instruments were kept sterile.

	As David travelled home in the train, a warm sense of pride and triumph accompanied him.  At last he was a fully-qualified roundhead.  Moreover, he had achieved that status the hard way.  If anyone commented, next time he was in the showers at the sports club, he'd be proud to tell them, "Yes, I've just had myself circumcised.  It's a great improvement.  I really recommend it."





To contact Mr Acorn, email tommacalastair@hotmail.com