Mrs Loretta Bellvue had gone into labor around 2am, her husband rushing her to the Lytton Town Hospital just past the stroke of 3. 

I rushed out to the hospital as soon as I heard the news. 

Mrs. Bellvue was an old friend of mine, you see and I wasn't going to miss the birth of her son for anything. 

Well, truth be told, it's a bit more complicated than that. See, I'm one of the only doctors in this little podunk town. Pretty much every baby born in the sleepy town of Lytton gets birthed under my care. Honestly, I'm almost always the first thing the little guys and girls see when they come into this world. I give them all a little special welcome, warm rinse and a warm blanket to rest in... and for the boys I give them something even more special. 

See, Mrs. Bellvue... Well, I guess I can just call her Loretta. We are friends after all. Loretta had a lot of questions about her upcoming birth, first kid and all that, and being good friends she knew I was just the person to ask. Most of them were fairly innocuous questions, the girl expecting mothers usually have. What to expect during labor, questions about breastfeeding, and a good prenatal diet. Of course eventually the topic of circumcision came up (Ok, I admit it, I brought it up myself). 

Truth be told it wasn't that hard of a sell. All the men she'd ever known had been snipped high and tight; Her husband was cut. All of the boyfriends she'd ever had were foreskin-free. Even her brothers and her father had gotten the snip. She was a good mommy; She wasn't going to let her son walk around with some gross little worm between his legs. 

I told her I'd do it for free. We're good friends after all. I'll get the little tyke snipped as soon as he's born... It'll be like he never even had a foreskin. 

If I'm telling the truth, I love taking boy's hoodies away. 

Loretta looked positively beat by the time the baby arrived, the chocolate colored bovine gripping tight onto her husbands hand, pushing with all her might when I gave the word. 

Soon there he was, cradled in my arms squalling and squealing as I lifted him up and held him to my ample breasts. He was a cute little guy despite the mess that clung to his fur; a black mane, cute little horns, and fur of chestnut brown. I let the dad cut the cord, gave mom and dad a few moments to get in their looks, their nuzzles and kisses the to the head before I was off. 

A warm little bath in the sink to wash the gunk off his fur and to give his mane a playful little floof. 

Thirty-Two minutes after being born and the little bull-calf was placed down in my circumstraint. 

He'd quieted down a bit by then, waving his arms and moving his little legs around, his hooves clacking a bit against the plastic. I gave his little belly a tickle and he giggled and smiled up at me. “Hey there, little guy. Oh we're gonna have a little bit of fun together.” Well, at least one of us would be having fun. “Hehe... you don't even know your name yet, do ya?” 

I chatted with the little guy as I gently worked his little arms into the straps. Most babies are fussy when you start to strap them down, but not this little guy. He was too busy listening, looking up at me with those big blue eyes. 

“You're gonna be Isaac Bellvue. I know, kind of stodgy old name. Well. Your mom liked it. I'm still gonna call you 'Izzy' though.” I laughed, and he laughed back. “Alright little guy, lets see what we're got here..” 

I worked his little legs apart, strapping them down one at a time until he was there, spread out nice and good for me. 

“Oh my. Got ourselves a little anteater now don't we?” I couldn't help but giggle looking down on little Izzy's little baby dick. It was cute. I mean, most of them all, about an inch and a half of soft, ebony colored skin. This little guy was one of the only babies I'd ever seen that actually had a little bit of overhang past his little bulb. 

I couldn't help but give that little bit of doomed flesh a little tug. “Your family got a foreskin gene or something? Don't worry. I'll get you trimmed up nice and tight. You know, come to think of it I'm going to literally be the only person who ever got to see little Isaac uncircumcised. Not even mommy and daddy got a good look at that little worm.” 

I gave his little penis a quick wash with some rubbing alcohol and a damp cloth before setting out the tools I'd need. Three sets of hemostats, a scalpel and my trusty gomco that had been the doom of many boy's foreskins under my hand. 

“Alrighty, you're gonna feel a little pinch here...” I started, clamping down the first hemostat at 9'o clock on the tip of the boy's little beak. Most babies cry when the first one pinches down (though before its done that little pinch is nothing), but not Isaac. “Oh. We got a little tough guy huh?” I teased him, getting the second ready. 

“You know, I told your mom you didn't need any anesthetic. Told her its can cause nerve damage. She didn't even question it... Its kinda funny really. She'll let me mash off part of your little pee-pee but thinks some local anesthetic is going to cause you damage... Ah well. Good for us at least. Or me, rather.” 

I snapped the second hemostat in place at 3'o clock, letting them hang to the side to hold his little rigid band open. He didn't seem seem uncomfortable... That wasn't going to last though. 

You know, I've always debated what my favorite part of the snip is. Either the dorsal slit or the breaking of the adhesion. Both are fun, no lie. But something about that first time under their hoodie. 

I took my third hemostat in hand, squeezing the clamps closed so it all came to a nice blunt point. “Alright, tough guy. Lets see how you like this..” I grinned, bringing the tip of the hemostats up to that little puckered foreskin, being sure to guide it upward. I feel a little bit of resistance as I push it in and then and then a little pop and tremble as the first of his adhensions snaps... 

The sound of little Isaac's pained wails are almost deafening then. Not so tough now, are you? Gets them every time. I don't stop.. I don't even hesitate as I push it the rest of the way in along the topside of his little bulb, my hemostats making a little bulge in his doomed foreskin as I work it all the way down to his ridge. 

You know, I've always heard breaking the adhesions feels like having a fingernail ripped out... I don't know how anyone knows that, to be honest, but god damn if it doesn't start the waterworks every single time. 

His little limbs struggle in vain with their bonds as I twist the hemostat from the left and to the right, working all the way around his little bulb until I reach his frenulum, savoring every little pop I feel as I break the adhesions between his glans and foreskin. Just for good measure I like to open up my tool, still inside his hoodie, spreading it out nice and wide. 

“You like that little guy? Hurts like a mother-fucker, doesn't it? And we're not even to the best part.” I barely contain my glee as I draw back the hemostat and popped it open again, letting it show its 'vicious' little alligator teeth. 

Isaac was still crying in pain, his little peepee was sore. Not half as sore as it was going to be, but sore none the less. “Mmm. You know this is really the point of no return. Your little dickhead will stop being sore after awhile... but this..” 

I guided the open hemostats forward again, his little legs trying to close as I pushed them back into his delicate little foreskin. Poor guy probably expected more of what came before. Now, for those of you not in the know this is the step where we get to decide how much of his foreskin little Isaac gets to keep. You can be merciful, only go in about halfway up the hemostat's 'mouth'. 

Honestly, that's what I'd do for most boys; it's just enough to expose their little dickhead. But Isaac here had a little elephant trunk and that was just no good... No, for him we're taking it down all the way to the bottom. 

With his little hoodie snug under the hemostats I gave the handle a little squeeze... 

Isaac's screamed called out again as I made a little crush injury along the topside of his hoodie, squeezing the hemostats down as tight as I could and giving them a little tug from side to side. Oh, the little guy hated this. His little arms and legs pulled futilely against the straps of the circumstraint. 

You know, I've always wondered if you could just stop here, if the little crush-injury would heal on it's own and the little guy could still walk-away with his foreskin intact. Not that I've ever stopped here, mind you, but I do wonder. 

I grin down at the boy, popping the hemostats open with a flick of the thumb; after mashing a pale line into his doomed foreskin I have to give it a little tug and a twist to get the skin to let go of the cold, cruel steel. 

Oh, little Izzy isn't so much of a trooper anymore; his wailing and whining is almost deafening in the little room, his eyes darting around looking for any sign of mercy, any one who'll come to rescue him. “Sorry little guy.. Mama nature might have given you a nice, thick foreskin... But mama Loretta wants it all gone-gone.” I giggled, sitting the hemostats aside for a small pair of surgical scissors. 

“You know what I love? Well. I love a lot of things... But you know I love unzipping those little hoodies. I love how the first time your little foreskin gets retracted is when it's getting destroyed. 

I guide the scissors forward, slipping them up under the hood and lining them up with that pale crush-line I just gifted the little boy. “Mmhmm... Here we go: Point of no return. Cutting right though that little rigid band...” I purred as I clasped the scissors closed, slicing through that little ruined band of skin and slowly cutting along the long and angry-looking line I'd mashed into his skin. “Even if you decide to restore later you can't get that back.” He grinned, moving the scissors forward and closing them down again. “Even if you do decide to be a naughty boy it'll take you years to grow back this much skin.” 

I draw the scissors back, putting them back on the tray with a little clang. I can't resist giving the little hemostats on his prick a little pull, pulling his flayed foreskin open to look at that angry red-purple bulb. It always gets me hot between the legs looking down at that naked little cockhead; I'm literally the first person to see it, even before it's owner. 

“Hmmhmm.. I mean to be honest, you probably won't end up restoring. A week or two from now you'll be all healed up and this will just be a bad memory.” That's the best part of it, really. When 90% of the town is circumcised and you get em' good and young they don't even know they're supposed to have a foreskin. They think that beautiful, two-toned look and that nice dark scar is just normal. 

“Alright, lets get these off...” I say before popping off the two remaining hemostats. “Alright little guy, here comes the best part” I say again.. “Alright, who am I kidding, they're all the best part.” 

My trusty gomco. I've stolen so many foreskins with this thing. I wish they'd let me engrave it. If you haven't seen it, it's a pretty medieval thing. A little metal bell which slips over the glans, that slips into a metal ring attached to a clamp with the poor foreskin (and the frenulum too) caught in between. 

I always find it a little funny people call circumcised cocks 'cut' cocks. There's cutting involved, to be sure... but really it's mashed and crushed off. Prevents bleeding, and really, mashing a baby's foreskin in half is all the more brutal. 

I work that silvery bell down into the still wailing boys doomed foreskin, pressing it firm against his glans. I can see his little legs tensing as something touches his delicate little cockhead. I imagine it just be pretty sore being forced out of it's little cocoon before it's ready. Oh well, in a week or two it won't be able to feel much of anything anymore. 

I push that little bell in good and hard, tugging on both sides of his flayed skin to make sure its in as snug and as far as I can push it before bringing the rest of the clamp in, slipping that ruined-skin thorough the little loop. A quick shift of my fingers lock the bell in place. 

“Almost there Izzy. That nasty foreskin is almost all gone-gone.” I giggle. I give the right side of his foreskin a little pinch, pulling it up through the hole a little bit further, and then I do the same on the left. We want it nice and even. Not to mention nice and tight. I just love how they gave me a baby with oodles of extra foreskin and I get to mash it all off. I'll make him nice and tight, maybe even a little painfully so. 

That's how I like them really; zero loose skin when hard and when he gets a stiffy it'll start to ache after awhile. That's how I know I did a good job. 

Little Izzy's chest is heaving now from all the crying, his little voice has gone a bit hoarse. Poor little guy, he didn't know we have one more act to this little performance. 

Once I'm satisfied I've got all his skin pulled up and under the bell I slowly begin to turn the wheel at the back to clamp it down and into place. At first it's just a little snug and uncomfortable but soon little Izzy stars to wail and whine again, his voice harsh from all the screaming. One more turn on the wheel and the steel presses hard again steel, mashing his foreskin in twine. I give it one more hard turn, as hard as I can to mash it down hard against the boys skin. Not only does the cold steel crush through his foreskin, but also his little frenulum, nearly folded over onto itself. 

He'll probably still end up with a little bit of his banjo-string left, a little useless parody of what it once was. Neatly bisected and useless at the bottom of his glans... Well. Not totally useless. Most boys still like to play with it. 

I wonder what that must feel like, having that delicate little erogenous zone mashed in half. Barely even an hour old, unable to even understand the agony you're being put through. Oh well. It's not like he'll remember it anyway. 

I move the clamp from side to side, moving that little pee-pee back and forth making sure everything is good and secure before bringing the scalpel back, cutting into the skin just above where the clamp mashed down, trimming away all of that thick ebon foreskin. No more hoodie for you, Izzy. 

I leave it there for awhile, making sure everything is nice and mashed tight; we don't want any bleeding after all. A quick glance at the clock: 58 minutes. 

I'll admit I was a little bit slow with this one. It's not every day you get to circumcise your friends son and I'll admit I wanted to savor it. With a little twist the clamp comes free and little Izzy's nightmare finally comes to an end. 

I look down at my work, the baby's cries have reduced to a soft, gentle whimper, his little pee-pee standing at attention between his legs, his angry ruined glans pointing up at me accusingly. “There ya go, no more hoodie. That wasn't so bad, was it?” I giggle, reaching down to give his naked glans a little boop. 

His little legs tense as my furred digit drags over his glans. So sensitive, so delicate and tender. Give it a week or two in your diaper and they'll be dull and dead. 

“Hope you like your little bald dickie...” I chuck again, shaking my head. “Well.. I guess it doesn't really matter if you like it or not. Not like you have a choice. Lets get you back to mama...” 

I scoop the little guy up, already looking forward to my next checkup with him. I do love checking my handiwork over the years, looking at their little bald dicks as they grow older. Seeing my mark on them. No matter what they do they'll never get rid of the little scar I gave them. Never know what its like to have a natural cock. Oh well. It's for the best they never know any different.