Examined By Doc, Spanked By Dad a True Story
Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 07 Dec 2003
I was circumcised ten years ago when I was twenty-six, as I suffered from phimosis (i. e., having an overtight foreskin which made it difficult and uncomfortable to pull back over the glands of my cock). I have mixed feelings about being circumcised now: whilst it is undoubtedly healthier as it reduces the risk of one contracting balanitis (i. e,. an inflammation of the penile glans and foreskin), it has reduced the sensitivity of the glans and, post-circumcision, I find it takes me longer to get or sustain an erection.
One of the things I hated most about PE at school – apart from having poor eye-foot eye-hand co-ordination (which made me useless at ball-games), poor upper-body strength (which made doing press-ups, pull-ups and swinging from parallel bars difficult during circuit training in the gym), having weak kneecaps prone to dislocation (which made me nervous of touching a rugby ball for fear that my kneecaps might suddenly dislocate underneath a rugby scrum) which made me the laughing-stock of the whole class, let alone having to wear shorts (for all sports) irrespective of weather conditions and take a communal shower with the other boys after each lesson (as I was conscious that my cock was not as large as other boys tools in my class, probably due to its growth being restricted with my foreskin being so tight) – was that Mr Sparks, my PE teacher would religiously punish me every lesson. "Physical Education is not physical unless I examine and spank you boy", he once told me! Why is it that school PE teachers, akin to army PT instructors, always pick on the weakest lad in their class, and quietly gloat as their little charges freeze to death in being forced to exercise stripped to the waist and wearing shorts in inclement weather, all the time they [i. e., school PE teachers or army PT instructors] wear fleece tracksuits?!
Examine and spank me, Mr Sparks (alias "Old Sparky") would too! Knowing I suffered from having an overtight foreskin, after I had showered Old Sparky would make me present myself to him in front of the whole class so he could pull my foreskin back to make sure I had washed myself thoroughly underneath, and if I hadnt – with it being very painful to do so – he would haul me (stark bullock naked) into his office personal changing room to also give me a rectal examination with a lubricated gloved finger, before putting me over his knee and soundly spanking my bare bottom. If, on examining my cock, it was clean I would get away with just being given a hand-spanking (in front of my peers in the Boys Changing Room) across my bare bottom as I lay naked over his knee for "another abysmal performance" in class, but if Mr Sparks found any smegma underneath my foreskin I risked either being paddled with a table tennis paddle or spanked with a Size 11 plimsoll in his office until my butt was the colour of a ripe tomato all-over after he had first scrubbed away any smegma with an old toothbrush. Boy, did it hurt! He would then escort me back to the Boys Changing Room (with my eyes as red as my butt from crying) to get dressed.
If, on examining my rectum, Old Sparky found any faeces, he would always give me an enema bag, sit me on the loo, watch me empty my bowels and bend me over to roughly wipe my butt clean – as if I couldnt do it for myself – before giving me a further rectal examination (and repeating the process again and again) until he was satisfied that my rectum was clean and empty. "Nice, very nice .... one of these days I might just be tempted to put something other than my finger up here" he would tell me; fortunately, or unfortunately for me, he never did!!!
The discomfort and humiliation I felt on having my foreskin pulled back and my butt fingered led me to ask my father – without telling him what Mr Sparks was doing to me, not that it would have mattered as he would never have believed me – if I could be circumcised as my foreskin was too tight and felt uncomfortable either when I rolled it back to wash underneath or got an erection. Father did not believe me and just said that it [circumcision] was unnecessary as my cock would sort itself out as I became older, and if I stopped masturbating every five minutes I wouldnt have a semi-permanent erection! Over several months I kept pleading with him to let me be circumcised until, eventually, he said he would go with me to see Dr Pearson (my General Practitioner) to see what I was making so much fuss about, and duly took the day off work to accompany me.
Inside his consultation room Dr Pearson insisted on giving me a full physical examination whilst Father insisted on being present for the duration of my examination. I was expecting Dr Pearson to ask me to drop my trousers and underpants so he could examine my cock and conclude – as I had, after reading up on phimosis in a medical encyclopaedia – that is what I had, and Father to wait in the waiting room to catch a word with Dr Pearson after he had examined me, but Dr Pearson insisted I take everything off, so he could examine me from head to toe, inside and out! I felt so embarrassed standing there, stark bullock naked, in front of Dr Pearson and Father, whilst Dr Pearson took a good three-quarters of an hour to an hour to examine me, leaving examination of my cock-and-balls to last, throughout which time I was made to keep my hands behind my head and during which time Dr Pearson noticed a few fading stripes across my bottom where Father had strapped me a couple of days earlier.
"Do you spank your son regularly" Dr Pearson asked Father.
"Only when necessary" Father replied anxiously, "Usually with my hand although occasionally with the belt if he repeatedly or seriously misbehaves".
"You dont have to be worried" Dr Pearson assured him, "I have two sons; one is twenty and the other is eighteen, and I still strap them regularly! All the time you live in my house you will obey my rules or you will suffer the consequences I tell them" he said echoing Fathers sentiments to me prior to giving me a spanking, adding "I usually insist they report to me wearing their old school gym kit for their spanking and that, after making them strip naked for their spanking and a suitable period of corner time in their birthday suits, they wear their gym kit for the remainder of the day so everyone can see from the marks on their legs and their having to wear shorts that they have been naughty little boys and have been treated as such", he chuckled.
"Good idea" Father said, "Ill try that next time! What was it we were taught at school: Cold legs and a warm backside are the hallmarks of a well-disciplined youth"?!
I couldnt believe I was hearing this! I thought that, at fifteen, I was too old to be spanked: other than by that sadistic bastard Sparks and my equally sadistic housemaster Mr K [see separate story entitled The Importance of Self-Discipline]. Certainly in my class at school I was the only boy still to be strapped at home, unless no other boy admitted it .... as if I wasnt spanked enough by Old Sparky at school!!!
When, eventually, Dr Pearson did examine my cock-and-balls he concluded there was nothing wrong with my cock. I had made a point of having a shower and washing myself thoroughly underneath my foreskin, excruciating though it was to pull back – prior to my appointment so it possibly looked cleaner than it would normally have done after a wet dream the night before, but Dr Pearson dismissed my protestations that it was painful and told me to "stop whinging like a girl" when he pulled my foreskin back-and-forth several times, adding "no sign of phimosis here .... you certainly dont need to be circumcised"! I was gutted.
"Boys your age are, however, prone to experimenting sexually" he told me, before turning to Father. "In order to reduce the risk of your son getting an infection, it may be worth it if I shave away his pubic hair and the fluff between the cheeks of his arse, if thats okay with you", he asked.
"Certainly" replied Father, "youre the expert, though I should perhaps add he wont just get an infection if I find out hes been sleeping around with anyone, let alone having sex, as he will just as soon get my belt"!
Dr Pearson smiled approvingly. "You cant do this to me" I protested, "Everyone will laugh at me for not having any pubes! What will I tell them"?
"Quiet boy" Father snapped angrily, "Or you will get the belt sooner than you think"!
It was pointless arguing. On Dr Pearsons orders I laid down on the examination couch and looked on, helplessly, as he first trimmed away my pubes before wet-shaving the remaining stubble away with shaving gel and a disposable razor, ordering me to roll onto my stomach and pull my bum-cheeks apart so he could wet-shave away the fluff between them, as Father looked on approvingly. "Smooth as a babys botty now" Dr Pearson said afterwards. "Would you care to inspect your sons bottom" he asked Father.
Father probed between my buttocks and puckered my butthole with his finger. "If ever you cease to be a doctor you could always become a barber .... thats a closer shave than I get at Hair Workshop in the High Street" he joked, "How much do I owe you Dr, or should I say, barber Pearson"?!
Both men laughed as I quietly cursed the pair of them with anger. On my way home Father and I did not speak in the car – a sure sign that I was going to get a spanking when we got home – and sure enough when we got home the first thing he said was "Get upstairs to your room and be sure to be ready by the time I arrive .... or else"!
I slowly climbed the stairs: pissed off at Dr Pearsons diagnosis and even more pissed off that, despite deliberately taking a Thursday morning off school (to avoid one of my twice-weekly PE lessons with Mr Sparks and hopefully future encounters with the plimsoll or table tennis paddle once I had been circumcised) Dr Pearson had shaved away my pubes, was not going to recommend I be circumcised, and that – instead of a spanking from Old Sparky – I was now going to get a spanking from Father.
Inside my bedroom I angrily stripped down to my underpants before briefly glancing at my freshly-shaved balls and butt in the full-length mirror inside my wardrobe door – wondering how on earth I was going to explain the absence of any pubic hair to my peers as they mocked me in the Boys Changing Room before and after PE – before lying face down on my bed waiting for Father, wondering what Dr Pearsons sons looked like and if, as I assumed they did, they also got strapped across their bare bottoms.
A few minutes later Father entered my room and, although we were alone in the house – with my Mum being out at work and my older brother being away at university – he closed the door before unfastening his belt, pulling it through the loops of his trousers, folding it in half and strapping me twice across the back of my thighs in rapid succession. It hurt like Hell! "I told you to be ready" he snapped, "Now get those pants off"! [Like Mr Sparks Father always liked to strap me naked in order to maximise my sense of humiliation]. I lifted up my stomach and began pulling down my underpants but was soon overtaken by Father who yanked them down and off in no time before tossing them on the floor and pushing me back on the bed, face down.
"How dare you take time off school and force me to take a day off work, let alone repeatedly lie to me about needing to be circumcised or questioning Dr Pearsons authority" he said angrily, "I may not skin your cock but I am sure as Hell going to skin your arse today boy .... and then, like Dr Pearsons sons, you can spend the rest of the day in your gym kit so everyone can see from the marks on your legs you have been an insolent little bastard"!!!
With that, Father gave me twenty blistering strokes with the folded strap of his belt – mainly across my bottom but with the odd stroke across the back of either thigh – far more than the maximum of eight he usually gave me, as he lectured me about the consequences of him having to take time off work, me taking time off school, and my lying and being disrespectful to him and Dr Pearson, before making me stand up so he could examine my cock for himself. By now my cock was rock-hard, both with fear and from rubbing inadvertently against my duvet as I was strapped, although my foreskin had still not rolled back – which made it all the more painful when Father pulled it back to expose the glans of my erect member – but that still did not persuade him that I was right and Dr Pearson was wrong, but only made him angrier than ever at the sight of my erection. Father grabbed hold of me by my ear and threw me against the wall before taking hold of the loop end of his belt and striking my already desperately sore bottom twice with the buckle. I was then frogmarched into the dining room where I was made to stand in the corner of the room, facing the wall opposite the window with the curtains open so anyone looking-in as they passed by could see me standing there (with my hands behind my head and butt on show, for about an hour whilst he ate lunch and read the paper behind me) before Father pushed me over the dining room table and made me spread my legs apart for a further twenty blistering strokes with the strap across my bottom and the back inside of my thighs: one of which hit the back of my scrotum as it wrapped inside my leg and I saw stars. "Yeeeow" I screamed "that hit my fucking balls you fucking bastard"!
Again, this was swiftly followed by two hard strokes with the buckle end of the belt in rapid succession as Father warned me "Mind your language boy or I will wash your mouth out with soap and water and I will continue to use the buckle end of the belt rather than the strap"! He didnt, thank God, but it didnt stop me thinking he had damaged my fishing tackle for life as my balls were swollen and extremely painful for sometime afterwards.
After the fortieth stroke with the belt I was sent back to my room and told neither to get dressed nor move from there until my mother got home from work; I couldnt have got dressed even if I wanted to as my butt hurt so much that I just laid down on my side – with being unable to lie face-down as my balls hurt too much to rest against my bed – and cried myself to sleep. When my mother got home just after 5.00pm that afternoon I was allowed out of my room but I had to spend the rest of the day – and all of Friday, Saturday and Sunday (when I was not at school) – in my gym kit so Father could admire the welts on my leg
The whole experience put me off approaching any Doctor to refer me for circumcision until just over eleven years after my examination by Dr Pearson, and then only because my phimosis was preventing my then partner (a soldier in the Ulster Defence Regiment) from enjoying giving me a blow-job, but the day Dr Pearson examined me and Father subsequently spanked me still ranks among my most memorable childhood spankings and hopefully gives others inspiration to re-enact the occasion with me or others.
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