This site discusses phimosis in its specific forms of phimotic ring, frenulum breve, adhesions or skinbridges. During erection these conditions inhibit the relationship between foreskin and glans. This functionally restricts the erection, and thus has an effect on the sexuality. With our culture's attitudes on health care, it would be appropriate to encourage early prevention. Jan 2021 : Please read the new summary.

FREE AT LAST- Nick Hi Robin, From the first time I masturbated until I had my first sexual encounter at the age of 17 I had no idea that I was abnormal in any way. From about age 13 I had regularly masturbated by rubbing myself against my bedclothes, grasped between my legs so as to prevent strain being applied to my foreskin and probably to avoid having to look at my penis as I did it. The pain that I experienced if I pulled too hard on my foreskin during masturbation was entirely natural to me and as I believed, an unfortunate part of life that all men had to endure. I had no idea that all of my pain was completely unnecessary had a simple check been made when I was an infant identifying the need for a routine operation. Age 17. Having been aware that I was different to most men since about age 13, it is ironic that at that stage I had no idea exactly how different I was. I refer not to my medical condition but to the realisation that I in fact was attracted to men and not women leaving me with the exceptionally difficult task of coming to terms with my sexuality. Coming to terms with my medical condition was not an issue until that time, since until that time I was unaware of any abnormality. I suppose my body reacted to my predicament and adapted to my condition, hence why I masturbated differently to my peers. Just before my 18th birthday I met a guy on the Internet. We became really close and after chatting for a few weeks we decided to meet, that meeting resulted in my first sexual encounter. As we sat on the sofa at his house he gradually began to undo my trousers and feel my penis. Before long he had my penis out and began rubbing his hand up and down the shaft teasing the foreskin backwards and forwards. A huge erection resulted at the incredibly sensual nature of the experience. As he began to further gather momentum in his actions I began to feel pain as it placed pressure around the tip of my foreskin, which was beginning to inflame and change to a red colour under the strain. He asked me how it felt and I believe my words to be, ‘more painful than pleasurable actually’. To think of that now I cannot begin to imagine how inadequate he must have felt from my words. I then asked him to move my foreskin in a forward’s direction rather than to pull my foreskin backwards. He soon got the hang of my preferred method and the remainder of the experience was highly pleasurable. My experience with the guy was the beginning of a three and a half year relationship which was shrouded with misery and confusion, largely fuelled by my condition. A factor which probably delayed any definite action to identify with my condition was that my partner was circumcised and since he had never had a sexual encounter with another male, he was not aware of the function of a foreskin and recognising problems associated with the foreskin. Had he been uncircumcised then I doubt treatment of my condition would have been so prolonged. The pain that I experienced during my first encounter with him was only made worse when I tried participating in penetrative intercourse with him and even when we attempted oral sex. It quickly became apparent that my sexual abilities were for some reason restricted because of an unknown physical condition. Realising what that condition actually was and building up the courage to confront the problem and seek professional advice took the entire length of that relationship and indeed destroyed any chance of the relationship being successful. More worryingly my physical condition, unbeknown to me was having an adverse psychological effect, dramatically altering my behaviour, described at times by some, ‘like a dog unable to brake free from a lead’. My sexuality was repressed and by means of getting back at the world for causing me so much pain I became a nightmare to be around. The breakdown of my relationship proved to be one of the fundamental stepping-stones to solving my problems. I entered into a short relationship with a guy who was uncircumcised with a freely retracting foreskin. That was the first time I had ever seen how a foreskin was supposed to work and the encounter opened my eyes to the severity of my condition. Consequently that relationship failed, probably due to my physical and psychological state, which realistically made anyone who was willing to be in my company eligible for a bravery award. As with any problem, an individual cannot begin to work towards a solution until they have positively identified that a problem exists. Realising or coming to terms with a problem of that type is an exceptionally difficult thing to do. Sexual relations and areas associated are known to be particularly sensitive, especially for men given the emphasis society places on the links between sexuality and masculinity. Dealing with my sexuality at the same time as my medical condition further magnified the effects on my general state of health. That combined with the usual pressures applied to young people like succeeding academically and the breakdown of my first long-term relationship brought me to very near a nervous breakdown. It is frustrating to consider that all of my problems as a young adult in the prime of my life were because of ignorance and lack of education within my family to simply check my penis as I developed towards puberty. I expect the fact that my father was circumcised and equally as naive to the problems associated with the foreskin contributed to the overall problem. In turn as my father was my mothers first boyfriend, she had never had an experience with an uncircumcised man and was also not aware of the importance of personal hygiene and regular checking of the foreskin. It is difficult to assert blame on my parents since their actions were entirely as a result of circumstances, which were coincidental and unfortunate, but it is difficult to feel no anger towards the medical profession for not emphasising the importance of simple checks on infants as they develop. It is clear that neither of my parents were given the appropriate advice at the time of my birth to prevent such complications. Age 21. Awaiting my appointment in my doctor’s waiting room where I will at last have the opportunity to discuss the problems I have with someone other than my next-door neighbours cat. It is difficult to put into words the anxiety that I went through prior to making the appointment; needless to say I had many a sleepless night worrying about the prospect of admitting to some stranger with a fancy title that I was inadequate as a man. I hear my name called out over the speaker in the waiting room as I peruse a very dated copy of Women’s Own magazine selected from the small pile of reading material for the benefit of patients waiting. ‘Nicholas S......, room 1 please’, oh gosh, that’s me. My stomach turned inside out at the prospect of coming clean about my problems combined with my embarrassment about showing my genetalia to a complete stranger. ‘And how can I help you Nicholas?’, said the doctor. ‘Errrr well, where do I start?’, I replied. The next 3 minutes felt like 3 weeks. It was a relief to leave the surgery in one piece having coped very well with the humiliation once the adrenalin had slowed its release and I had time to reflect on the reality of the situation. I scuttled off home with a small grin across my face, revelling in the knowledge that at last I had done it, I had got an appointment with a hospital Consultant Urologist, whatever that was. For the next few weeks I anxiously awaited confirmation of my hospital appointment like a child awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. Suddenly I had a new outlook on the situation since I could see a time in the not too distant future where my problems would be resolved. I had a brighter future to look forward to and all that was between me and the start of the journey to that future was a piece of paper landing on my doormat. Two months later and long after I had lost impetus for my new outlook on life, I find a letter addressed to me from the hospital confirming my appointment in another three months time. ‘Three months, three months, didn’t I make it clear to the doctor how urgent it was that I get my condition resolved?’ It would appear that the National Health Service (NHS) is not geared to consider individual needs but rather it has a ‘system’ which processes your request for treatment, rather like an insurance company processes a claim for an accident write-off. Never the less, at least it was an appointment and I was further on than I had been for years, something to look forward to in the New Year given that my appointment was in January. January 10th at my local hospital. I remember it being a freezing cold morning and frost covered the ground as I crossed the pay and display car park to enter the ageing hospital reception area. Wielding my appointment card I announced my purpose for being there and was told to sit patiently in the purple waiting area. After searching past Green, Red, Amber, Pink and a whole host of other coloured waiting rooms, I eventually locate the purple waiting room which strangely reminded me of the waiting room I had inhabited at my local Doctor’s surgery some five months ago. Although still very anxious I was not on this occasion quite as terrified about the appointment as I was at the previous appointment, although I know now that I should have been. After a 30-minute wait beyond my appointment time I am ushered into a small booth and asked to remove my trousers and underwear. In walked a coloured man who introduced himself so quickly that I couldn’t have said if he was my consultant or a hospital cleaner who wanted to empty the waste bin in the booth. His interest in my genetalia lead me to believe he was the former although his bed side manner was probably much less respectable than that of the hospital cleaning staff. He yanked my foreskin back causing me to yelp in pain after which without apology he said, ‘all I can suggest for that is circumcision, it will be about a 3 to 6 months wait and will take between 4 and 6 weeks to heal, we’ll write to you’. Before I could ask any questions or further discuss my condition he had disappeared out of the door leaving his nurse assistant to justify his actions as the result of a busy Monday morning schedule. I remember muttering to myself as I left the booth, ‘welcome to the NHS’. I had learnt from my local doctor that he suspected I had a condition that I previously had not heard of called ‘Phimosis’ although my consultant failed to confirm that in my brief encounter with him. Further research on the Internet allowed me to understand more about my condition and I was at last in possession of the knowledge that would have eased things a long time ago. It was apparent that the opening of my foreskin was too tight to retract over the gland of the penis either when flaccid or erect and the condition was present in its most severe form commonly labelled ‘Pinhole Phimosis’. Although I became aware that a full circumcision might not be the only course of action, I had somehow come to hate my foreskin altogether since not long after my hospital appointment I got a urinary infection which persisted for weeks, presumably caused by a build up of smegma underneath my foreskin, an area which I had never been able to wash. Circumcision was the option for me I had decided and I eagerly awaited my operation confirmation. June arrived and still no appointment date for my circumcision, time for a summer holiday I thought to ease my worry about the pending operation. Mauritius seemed just the job and so I packed my bags and flew to the paradise island for a fortnight last minute holiday. A week into my holiday and I got a call from my mother, apparently my appointment for my operation has arrived, ‘horrahhh!!’. ‘When is it Mum?’, I replied. ‘Monday’ she said. ‘Monday?, but today’s Friday and I don’t get back until a week on Monday’. ‘That’s what it says son’, replied my mother. I returned to my sunbed and cold glass of Malibu and Coke with a sunken feeling in my stomach like someone had drilled a hole through it. How dare they give me 3 days notice to go into hospital for an operation, is that allowed I wondered. On my return to the UK I was disgusted with the NHS and the way I had been treated and I’d had enough. By this time I had moved house and was living some distance from my original doctors and the hospital I was due to have my operation in. I joined a new doctors surgery and made an appointment, this time with a different approach, if the NHS weren’t going to help me, then I’ll help myself. I asked my new doctor to refer me to a private Consultant Urologist, which she did without delay recognising the urgency of my condition and the fact that I was willing to pay money for the consultant’s time. Two weeks later and I arrived at the local private hospital for an £80 private consultation. No Pay and display car park, free coffee, appointments on-time and a most delightful consultant who talked me through my condition and the procedure to correct it (circumcision) like he had all the time in the world. It served to allay all of my fears, especially about having only a local anaesthetic that turned out to be a myth, indeed I was to have a full general aesthetic. He said that he could fit me in around about 4 weeks time and we shook hands to that effect. Four weeks arrived very quickly and before I knew it at the ripe old age of 22, I was being shown to my private hospital room with T.V, radio & en-suite facilities, now I knew why the procedure was costing £2000 although worth every penny if it is successful. I remember feeling really drowsy as I came round from the aesthetic wondering where I was and why I was there. It didn’t take me long to pluck up the courage to lift my gown and take a peek at the handy work of my new mate the Consultant Urologist. ‘Wow’ I remember saying as I peeked at the swollen, slightly bruised but altogether foreskin- less penis before my eyes. It seemed weird seeing for the first time the exposed head of my penis. I couldn’t resist touching it, ‘ouchhh!’. The gland was so sensitive it felt like nothing I had felt before but I knew from my consultant that the sensitivity would reduce with time, I remember thinking, it’s a good job. It turned out that not only did I have pinhole phimosis but the operation revealed that I also had Frenulum Breve. I have been nursing my newly circumcised penis for two weeks now and it is healing nicely. It was immensely painful for the first week because I kept waking up with a morning erection because of the sensitivity of the gland. The erection was putting pressure on the scar line that felt like someone stabbing my penis. Once that subsided it feels and surprisingly looks ok. The biggest problem at the moment is that for the first time since puberty I have been unable to relieve myself sexually for two whole weeks. I anticipate that within the next week or so I will be able to have my first circumcised masturbation and that within 6 weeks or so I will at last be able to fulfil my ultimate desire and practice uninhabited sexual intercourse, free at last! I hope that this account of my experience will serve to provide other people with similar conditions advice on how to go about getting help and support. I also hope that my account will be collaborated into future research to support the theory that physical conditions such as Phimosis have the potential to cause immense psychological damage to individuals. Thank you. Nick _______________________________________________ Dear Nick A lovely story, thanks a lot. You seem to have understood your whole development very well. and got through it alone - though very painfully. I maintain many of our modern initiations are far more bizarre than anything they invented in New Guinea There were a couple of points I started thinking "well theres something I could say about that" - but you worked it all out yourself. Pinhole phimosis doesnt hurt, I still think it must have been a skin bridge - but your doctor seems to have diagnosed a frenulum breve (must have been very very short and attatched right at the front - do you have any scars on the glans which might indicate a skin bridge rather than frenulum? - both somehow dont explain to me why the foreskin could be pulled forward without any pain ...? this should only be painless with a "middle length" frenulum which still allows some movement) your way of rubbing to masturbating was described by Beauge, pulling the foreskin forward was described by me. Yes, your parents are in no way to blame, its our culture, its lots of cultures and male pride and status in a very primitive form ,probably actually a form found in all mammals - For our culture its the Greeks and Romans who loved to hang their foreskins low, and made statues to show how to do it and worship, (I speculate probably a few Greek philosophers and Roman emperors who had phimosis themselves, - and just as many of us do, they thought it was normal) - and then its St. Paul who wanted to make Christianity acceptable to the Romans "Circumcision is of the heart" ... and so we got 10% to 20% of Europes males being sexually inhibited and naturally only able to preach purity and develop academic intellectual values. Your diagnosis of the NHS is only topped by your cure - a sense of humour. ... if Id have known -thought -and had a chance Id have suggested a Jewish doctor. Im sure there you dont wait and dont have to pay (at least not so much - dont know yet how much they could cost). Cheers Robin __________________________________________________ Hi Robin Thanks for your reply to my story. I guess I do understand my development very well, at least the psychology involved anyway. I think it's one of those things in life that you have to go through to understand. Going through it alone was my chosen option since there is a tendency to think that no-one can help you, of course now I know different. I was surprised to read your comment that, 'pinhole phimosis doesn't hurt' since I spent my entire youth fearing that it does. You have made me consider that maybe my pain was far more psychological than I had ever known. I think you tend to become so paranoid about your condition that the lines between pain and anxiety become blurred. To be honest I had not considered that I might have had frenulum breve until my surgeon diagnosed it and there are no obvious scares from a skin bridge. I guess maybe it was a medium length frenulum since I never experienced any resistance when pulling my foreskin forwards. Possibly I had imagined my pain? But how bizarre to think that had I have been born without phimosis I may have suffered a much greater pain from the frenulum breve. Is it impossible to consider that my phimosis could have been mother nature’s way through natural genetic modification to relive me of that pain? Rather like the herd of elephants that were born without Tusks alleviating them of the risks from ivory hunters? I guess that we will never know. All I do know is that until the taboo associated with this subject is removed, young guys like me will continue to suffer from ignorance in the future. I can only hope that some guys in the early stages of their development might read this forum and understand about their condition to a greater extent than I did in the early days of my development. Thanks Nick __________________________________________________________ Hi Nick I particularly like this bit > All I do know is that until the taboo associated with this subject is removed, young guys like me will continue to suffer from ignorance in the future. And then all I want to answer on this at present is. > But how bizarre to think that had I have been born without phimosis I may have suffered a much greater pain from the frenulum breve. Is it impossible to consider that my phimosis could have been mother nature's way through natural genetic modification to relive me of that pain? Rather like the heard of elephants that were born without Tusks alleviating them of the risks from ivory hunters? You can consider that if you want to but I consider it as highly unlikely, - I remember I just couldnt find a way to understand "mother nature" for quite a few years ... A fellow called Guy Cox wrote a paper on the theme, but he thought humans were the only animals who had phimosis ... so I thought a bit more and came up with www.male-initiation.net/evolution.html -- its quite a short file - only a few paragraphs, highly hypothetical ... but this is the only way mother nature makes any sense for me .... at present .... its a good question to keep in mind. cheers Robin