Post by messageman on Oct 6, 2010 9:42:45 GMT -5
This thread is intended to give all those reading this a thorough understanding of what brought me to where I stand now with regards to penile enlargement. It is not intended to act as an advocation for any enlargement technique or doctor. By the same token, it is not meant to be detraction of any particular enlargement technique or doctor either. It is just a very honest account of my journey. I feel that many of you will be able to relate to it… and it will, in many cases, serve as an educational tool (albeit an anecdotal and scientific one), serving to help people make rational, informed decisions about penile surgery. My postings will appear as a serial journal, over the course of several weeks (I’m guessing). These postings are also admittedly self-serving in the sense that they will help me reflect on the decisions I have made…And of course they will be cathartic in many ways…. But perhaps most importantly, by helping others, I will be able to have the consolation with the knowledge that all my anguish, trouble, and pain have not been in vain.
Before I begin, I think it is best for me to give you some basic facts about myself.
Race: I am causcasioan,
Height: 6 feet, 1 inch
Age: 42
Education: Graduate school
Job: Business…. Solid, well paying job
Penis Stats.
Before first surgery:
Flaccid Length: 3.8 inches
Flaccid girth: Not recorded
Erect Length: 6.3 inches
Erect girth: 5 inches
Chapter 1
Where to begin? Well, I guess I should start when I first actually started becoming aware of my penis and how it compared to other boys my age. I guess it would have to be back in junior high school. I was 13 or 14 years old and we all had to start showering after gym class together. I remember, to my amazement, that some of the boys already had hair under their arms and in their pubic region. I didn’t have one hair! As I recall, size was not an issue at the beginning for me. My main fear was that everyone was going to see that I had no pubic hair. I somehow would manage to find a way to not shower and exit the change room without other students noticing. This would happen weekly. I would however stay in the change room long enough to notice that the boys who had not hit puberty quite yet would have to endure their share of ribbing and name calling. I had indeed made the right decision to not shower!
One day after basketball practice at school, one of the other players (a tall, lanky guy) proceeded to take off his uniform and enter the shower. When he did this, a hush filled the entire change room. This guy had an enormous flaccid penis. I know how memories can be distorted over time, but I swear this guys penis must have been 8 or 9 inches long flaccid…And he was only 14 years old! If there was any one point that I could pinpoint where the genesis of my complex about penis size occurred, it was at this moment. This guy literally was 4 or 5 times bigger than me flaccid. The entire change room then erupted into laughter…Not me though…I sat on the change room bench, and concluded (incorrectly) that my penis was of an insufficient size. This torture would go on for all of basketball season. This well endowed guy would (like clockwork), take off his clothes and shower in front of us…Not surprisingly, most of the other guys stopped showering (when he was there at least)…so we would just watch (out of the corner of our eyes) this guy…I am pretty sure that I was not the only one traumatized by this…Whatever happened to this guy? Did he become the Don Juan of our century? I have no idea. He ended up moving to another part of the country at the end of the year. Like a puff of smoke and he was gone. Thank God, I don’t think I could have endured it during high school too…A constant reminder of my inadequacy…
I finally started to hit puberty at the end of grade 8 and developed into a big, strapping young boy. I was never overly athletic, but I was a good looking kid (if I do say so myself)…I also had good grades…My family was upper middle class, and they provided me with a loving, supportive environment. I had everything going for me.
Up to the time I was 17, I managed, by some miracle, to not let any of my friends or classmates see my penis. By this point I had started, in an unhealthy, obsessive way, to worry about my penis size. Again, my penis size flaccid was probably about 3 inches (at that time)…so completely normal. But I was sure it was undersized. It didn’t help that I was quite tall, making my penis appear small in proportion to my body. I would spend hours in bookstores and libraries researching about penis size. Worse though were adult filmsographic books and movies. I would see these gargantuan penises and get a lump my throat…thinking I would never be able to satisfy a woman with my pathetic one.
I remember the day I finally debuted my penis in front of my friends. I had started to weight lift and would often go to the gym with my friends after school. The gym had a shower and Jacuzzi. and it was just proper gym etiquette to take a shower after working out. There was no escaping it. I had to take a shower with my friends. I thought, well, my penis doesn’t look so bad when I’m relaxed...and it looks good when I have a bit of “a chub”…So my plan was to “chub up” just before I entered the shower. I left the weight training area and preceded to the change room…I undressed to my underwear and told my friends that I had to go to the toilet. I went to the toilet and tried to “chub up” by massaging (masturbating) myself. Unfortunately, my penis was not having any of it. And did what it always does in stressful situations…Retract and shrivel…Oh my gosh, now my penis was even smaller than it usually is! I thought about just not showering and going home…but figured that would look too conspicuous…so I gathered up all my courage, swallowed my pride…and entered the shower area. By the time I entered all my friends had finished showering and were relaxing in the Jacuzzi…This was the absolute worst-case scenario. Their eyes fixed on me as I stood under the faucet of the shower. I somehow managed to garner the courage to take the towel off…and… took a very quick shower…Of course the shower water was cold on top of everything…adding to my penis problems…I then made my way to the Jacuzzi and jumped in. Nobody made a comment at the time and life went on…A week later though, when I was getting dressed after gym class (of course no shower), a friend of mine who saw me naked the week before asked me why I didn’t shower after gym class…I told him that I just didn’t have the time…Then he said something that shook me terribly…He said “Don’t worry about your size too much; my dick is small too” …All my worries and suspicions were confirmed; I did have a small penis! My life was ruined. Incidentally, the guy who said this to me really and truly did have a small penis! I couldn’t believe we were being lumped together.
Throughout high school I continued to avoid the showers as much as possible and my obsession with penis size continued. I would religiously measure my penis every day after school. It was a system…I would masturbate, measure, then take meticulous notes of flaccid and erect lengths Girth was never a consideration at this time for me. By the time I was 18 my penis had basically finished growing…Flaccid length (3.8 inches), erect length (6. 3 inches)..How sad I thought. Even though all the books and articles (literally hundreds) that I read said I was average or even above average, I was sure they were lying (just to make us needle dicks feel good about ourselves) because of firsthand evidence (junior high school guy) in the locker room and adult filmso movies! How was I ever going to satisfy a girl?
Needless to say, I never had a girlfriend in high school. It wasn’t due only to my penis size issues (though they didn’t help), but rather to my shy and awkward personality.
It wasn’t until university that I finally met my first girlfriend…And that’s when my penis size issues went from theoretical to practical concerns…
Chapter 2
I met my first girlfriend three weeks before I was to head off to university. I had had basically no experience with the opposite sex and had been looking forward to all the opportunities waiting for me as a freshman at a large university. Fate intervened early though…I met “Brenda” through friends, got her number, made a bumbling phone call…and got the date. I was intensely shy and it took me a few dates to even work up the courage to kiss her. We were both complete virgins and had no idea what to do. Remember, this was back in the non-Internet 1980s. Sex was much more of a mystery…much less talked about. However…nature indeed took its course…and by the second month we had started regularly “parking” and making out. At first it was just talking and holding hands…This gradually moved onto kissing…then onto French kissing…Then I got her top off, and then her bottoms…It was magical. The mysteries of the female anatomy were being revealed to me in the most magnificent way.
Unfortunately, for Brenda, I was not so accommodating when she tried to undo my pants. In fact, I had no intention of undoing my pants. I was terrified she was going to take one look at my dick and giggle. Yes, I know she was a virgin…And most likely in that day and age she hadn’t really been exposed to adult filmsography and all those monstrous penises…but I felt… so inadequate. I remember at that time reading a woman’s magazine where a reader wrote in and explained how she would be able to determine the size of a man’s penis by leaning up against him and gently touching his crotch. Words that were bantered around included such things as “cucumber” and “large banana”… I remember thinking that if she were to do that to me, she would feel something that would be akin to a package of “Rolos”…Would a woman find that sexy? I didn’t think so. As a result of all this, I started becoming even more and more obsessed about the penis size issue. I would spend endless hours in the university library (when I should have been spending time on my studies) researching penis size.
Brenda started becoming more aggressive during our make out sessions…She would (in a playful way) try to touch my penis and would, in a seductive voice, ask me if I wanted her to do “anything”. I would tell her that I would prefer to wait because if she were to unbutton my pants, I would have trouble controlling myself. Of course this was all untrue…I just didn’t want her to see my penis!
Finally, around the 3rd month of dating, I had to let her finally “see” “it”. She naturally was finding it odd that I wouldn’t even let her touch my penis through my jeans…so, I finally promised the next week I would “acquiesce”. Beside the “size” issue was another major issue…The fact that because of my unhealthy obsession and basic neurosis regarding penis size, I was unable to get fully hard in stressful situations…And any intimate encounter was “stressful”. What was I to do? For the last three months I had been given the wondrous gift…basically full reign… of a beautiful virgin’s body. What would she get? An undersized, shriveled up, gelatinous glob…I had five days before we were to meet…What to do? Of course, back to the books of the university library, feeding my ridiculous neurotic obsession!
I remember the day well…It was in November…sunny but cool…It was in late morning of a Saturday. We were walking in a forested area and just talking…I was dreading the evening (penis time)…We were holding hands and we were miles from anyone else….She leaned over and kissed me….French kissed me…Bong! I got a major woody…I thought “well…now is as good a time as any”…not really (it was in a forest after all) …but hey, I was 18 and an idiot….I quickly unzipped my pants and let her finally see my “manhood” (before I lost the erection). She squeezed it and said…”Wow, that is big”…I’m not sure if she was sincere with that comment (it was after all the first one she had seen to my knowledge)..or just massaging my ego…but it was the nicest, most complimentary thing anybody had ever said to me…I was in heaven. All my apprehensions disintegrated and for the next few weeks it was my turn to be on the receiving end of sexual exploration. It was all so magnificent.
Slowly but surely things were building towards intercourse. We had decided that it was best for her to get on the pill for when we eventually started to have sex. Back then, getting pregnant meant basically having the child…And there was no way we were ready for that. Heavy petting was fine but the idea of intercourse was very intimidating. I was sure that when we finally did, I would finally be exposed for having an insuffiently sized penis. Yes, her “your penis is big” comment...although very encouraging…was unable to completely destroy the years of damage my neurotic obsession caused…I was therefore determined to put off sexual intercourse as long as possible…I managed to stave it off a few months because that’s how long you have to generally wait before “the pill” is ready to work…This was the perfect excuse.
We would spend hours on oral sex. At times, Brenda would guide my penis toward her vagina, indicating to me that she was absolutely fine with me entering her…However, at the very thought of doing that, and the potential failure it represented, I would lose my erection. One time, I was pleasing her with my fingers and she grabbed both sides of my head and said “if you want to make love to me right now, I won’t stop you”. I grabbed her arms and said “There’s nothing I would like to do more, but we should wait until it’s completely safe”. Of course that was BS. I just didn’t have the confidence to do it.
Finally by Christmas there was no escaping sexual intercourse. The doctor gave Brenda and I the green light… and the romantic season of Christmas was upon us. I had three weeks off from school and we were together almost every single day.
One day she came over to my house when my parents weren’t home. This was a very rare occurrence,having a bedroom all to ourselves. Up to that point, most of our romantic encounters happened on my father’s car seats…If my father only knew!
Brenda made her way to my bed lay down and said, ”I’ve been waiting my waiting my whole life for this moment”. “Holy crap!” I thought to myself. “”the pressure is on”…Because of the anxiety, my penis started to deflate (just as I feared)….I jumped under the covers and said something to effect “let’s take this slow and enjoy every minute”…Not this time for Brenda; she wanted “PENIS”.. I was limp at best but still attempted to enter her. What surprised me was how easy it was to get inside. I always hear about how the first time is very difficult to enter a woman…Well, mine went in with little or no friction. In fact, to my utter horror, she said the thing that is usually only associated with jokes…She said “is it in?”…I said “no”…which wasn’t true… It was fully in…I took my penis out and said “let’s try this again later when I more relaxed”.
My worst fears were realized (again), I had put my penis in her and instead of getting that pained expression of joy on her face…she didn’t even know it was in her… She lost her virginity but didn’t even notice!
How devastating.
In retrospect, as an aficionado of penis size (now), I realize now this was basically due to the fact that I wasn’t fully hard...and not because my penis was too small…but there would have been no explaining this to me at that time. As far as I was concerned, I was incapable of satisfying a woman due to my small penis size
My subsequent attempts the following weeks were not much more successful…My penis was generally less than rock hard when we would try to make love, and she there was generally little or no reaction from her. And this was a girl who would easily orgasm with my fingers or my tongue. Finally, I asked her how the sex was. She replied, “Well…it’s nothing to write home about”. I felt destroyed…I felt I was worthless as a lover…and therefore as a man….And this was all due to my pathetic excuse for a penis (at least I thought it was).
Fortunately, over time, sex did get better…I managed to be able to get fully hard… but only when Brenda was on top. She even started to cum regularly (from my penis). However, I was unable to properly have missionary style sex because I would tense up and lose my erection. Doggy style was hit and miss. I do think on many levels she wasn’t satisfied. She must have been aware that I was uptight, that my penis was often limp…and because I had such little experience, I just didn’t know what I was doing….
Brenda and I broke up two years later. In fact, it was I who dumped her. Even though I was deficient (or so I thought) in the penis department, I was attractive enough to the opposite sex that they were flirting with me all the time at university. Nature was calling and I wanted to explore what was out there. In the back of my mind though, there was always that belief that I didn’t quite measure up. How would other girls react to my insufficient size. I was willing to risk it…all in the name of sowing my seeds.
Chapter 3
Soon after Brenda and I broke up (actually, almost immediately), I was exploring my newfound singleness…I had been anticipating the breakup for a couple of months and had laid down significant (social) groundwork, so that the move would be seamless…Yes, I was a bit of a jerk, but I was being governed by a force stronger than anything in the universe…P***y.
“Carmen” was extremely attractive and had been flirting with me since my sophomore year. I would often go to the local university dance bar and she made it quite clear I could take her home any time I wanted…She wasn’t trashy…and she was a brilliant student…but I’m sure she had seen her fair share of penises…Something that, of course, figured into my “mating” assessment. Nonetheless, she was just too hot to pass up.
I remember clearly, it was a cool (Thursday) October evening…Thursdays were always the rocking nights at the University and I was in the bar as usual with my friends. U2 was playing in the background, and she was hanging around near my table…I was tipsy and had my courage up...and after a little bit of small talk, asked her to go for a walk outside. She agreed to that and we had a beautiful stroll under the moonlit night…When I say “we”, I mean Carmen, myself…and that unpredictable package of “Rolos” in my pants…That third party always figured prominently one way or the other…
We eventually found the way to her dorm room and started making out…One thing led to another, as they most always do…Incidentally, this girl had the biggest breasts I have ever encountered in my life…They must have been at least “F” or even “G” cups…She actually had a contraption under bra to keep her breasts from spilling out…Anyway, I started to get into foreplay…necking, “massaging”, even oral sex (on her). Not Carmen though…She was interested in only one thing…INTERCOURSE….She was fumbling with my pants…The whole time, of course, instead of enjoying this magical time with a horny, sexy, well endowed, brilliant young woman. I was just concerned about what she would think of my penis…. And, of course, as a result of this worry, my penis (The Rolos) deflated into the gelatinous blob I was so familiar with….I took off my pants and suggested we should take a shower (to stall for time)…Not Carmen, she wanted PENIS…She grabbed it (the blob) before I could stop her…At that instant, I saw a change in her face…It was a mix of disappointment, resignation …and even amusement. I immediately switched into damage control…I tried to engage in oral sex…but she was having none of that by then…She said, that “we didn’t know each other well enough for that”. I remember thinking that “…”but we know each other well enough for intercourse?” The whole situation was rapidly going from bad to worse… Finally, I decided to put my semi-hard penis into her in hopes that it would get hard while thrusting…. Again, as with my first girlfriend Brenda, there was very little friction when I entered her…Actually, it was like entering a cave…Nonetheless, I focused on those huge, gorgeous breasts and tight young skin…and miraculously started getting somewhat hard.. I came after about 5 minutes of desperate thrusting. I was able to at least finish the job…a minor victory!
I’m pretty sure though that Carmen was quite unimpressed. The only time I even saw a hint of pleasure on her face …or it could have been a merciful acknowledgement that she felt something…. was just before I ejaculated. Probably the only point during sex that my penis was actually fully hard.
Then came the awkward “afterglow”…I tried to hold and caress her, but she just pulled away and said that it was “getting late”. “Getting late? 10:30pm is late?”, I remember thinking to myself. I didn’t even bother to ask to use her shower. I just got dressed quickly and made an exit…I remember kissing her on the cheek as I left…She certainly wasn’t hiding her disappointment and even seemed to enjoy making it known to me…
As I walked back to my dorm, I was thinking to myself that if I had given her 2 hours of heavy thrusting with a 10 inch penis, I’m absolutely sure her farewell to me would have been much more gracious. Yes, my “inadequate” penis struck yet again.
There is something depressing about autumn on the east coast…The cold, cloudy weather, back to school, the slow gradual march to winter…. This failed sexual encounter made it so much worse though. I really felt like giving up on sex completely. If anything, females around the globe (or at least my university), could breathe a collective sigh of relief.
Again, in retrospect, size was probably never the issue…It was most likely the rigidity of my penis and the poor technique that resulted from my self conscious, neurotic behavior. But perception is reality and this issue became a huge beast in my life to contend with. Knowing what I know now, I should have made a b-line for badly needed psychological therapy as this problem was probably due to a manifestation of self esteem issues and stress caused by other things going on in my life. There would have been no way of convincing me that this was a psychological issue at that time though…I was absolutely sure it was a penis size issue and there would have been no way of convincing me otherwise.
I was always a problem-fixing time of guy…and this penis size issue was a problem that wasn’t going to go away. What to do? Ok…enlarge it….But one has to remember that this was the early 1990s and there were very few options for penis enlargement. There was, of course, pumping, but all the research I had done on it said that the gains were very temporary and could lead to vascular damage easily, making erections more difficult...So I decided to dismiss that idea. OK, next was stretching. The research I had done on this method offered only anecdotal evidence (very little) pointing to minimal gains…. This however was better than nothing I remember thinking to myself…so I started stretching my penis every day for about 30 minutes (by tugging on it). I did this unfailingly for about 6 months. The results…Zero gains…
Next was jelqing…and very long story short…. I got the same results…Zero gains…
I became convinced that all the enlargement methods were basically bogus and there was no way to enlarge one’s penis permanently. Resignation and a sense of hopelessness started to set in. I was convinced I would forever be saddled with an undersized penis and there was nothing I could do about it. I remember, whenever I had the opportunity to make a wish…whether it be throwing a coin in wishing well, spotting a first star at night, or blowing out candles on my birthday cake…and others would be wishing for a loved one to recover from a serious illness or wishing for world peace…I would, you guessed it, be wishing for a large penis. My neurosis would never let me completely give up hope after all..
By this time (1994), I was a graduate student studying economics. I was also working at a bank (part-time). There was plenty of action to be had and I had my share of it. By the time I was 26 years old, I probably had been with about 7 females. I did start to relax a bit when I would engage in sexual activity with a girl…and sex would certainly get better over time if I slept with the same one. But truthfully, when I had intercourse, I was never really very good. At best I was adequate. I didn’t ever get any compliments…then again, no real (direct) complaints. Honestly, rarely would I get any reaction at all when my penis was inside a partner. I seldom would hear a girl moan and never once heard one scream (in ecstasy) when I was inside her. Being in a dorm, when I was in my first few years at university, I heard my fair of moaning and screaming from other dorm rooms. What did they have that I didn’t? And of course there were mainstream movies…not to mention adult filmso movies to reinforce my complex … No, something was wrong, and that something was my penis!
My “surgical” journey started off like just like any regular day for me. I was on the train going to work (by this time I had finished graduate school and was working full time). I was reading the newspaper…and out of the corner of my eye, caught a story about a cosmetic surgeon who was pioneering a new surgery for penis elongation on the east coast. This was what I was waiting for; it was the answer to my greatest dream! The article detailed how the enlargement method was first used in China, and that it could lengthen a penis by 1.5 inches. 1.5 inches? That would almost give me an 8-inch penis!
That would make me a sex God! All my problems would be solved!
Of course, I neglected to focus on the “pioneer stages” part of the article. Focus on the positive and completely ignore any negative aspects…A misguided philosophy I would adhere to throughout my entire quest for penis enlargement. I was determined to pay this doctor a visit! I went home, and made a (consultation) appointment for the next week.
The day arrived and I started off on the long drive to the office. I remember how nervous I was when I was parking the car. Finally, I would be face to face with someone to discuss my insecurities about my penis size…and hopefully find a solution. It was indeed an important day. I slowly made my way up the stairs to his clinic. I opened the door. I don’t know what I was expecting to see in there, but it certainly wasn’t what I saw. There were about five or six young women in the waiting room reading magazines. Most of them I later learned were there for nose or breast augmentation. I entered and made my way to the receptionist. All the while I was completely convinced that everybody in the waiting room knew why I was there. The receptionist was kind enough and confirmed my name…Then she asked me the one thing I thought she wasn’t going to…”Why are you here to see the doctor?” I didn’t expect this because I had had already told the office over the phone the answer to this. The receptionist was young, attractive, and probably around my age (at the time)…I was mortified…I didn’t know what to say, so I showed her the cutout newspaper article. She looked at it and it “Oh…got it”. She then asked me to sit down and told me the doctor would see me in a little while…”OK, got past hurdle one”, I thought to myself…Soon afterward I found myself waiting in a small consultation room for the doctor. The doctor walked in while at the same time looking at the form I had just filled out …He looked exactly like his picture in the newspaper but about a foot shorter than I imagined he would...”Would he be performing the surgery with stilts on? ”, I thought.
Our conversation went something like this:
”So, you’re interested in penis enlargement?”
“Yes”
“Why?”
“I believe I have a small penis”
“How big is your penis?”
“3.8 inches”
“Erect?”
“No flaccid”
“How big is it erect”
“6.3 inches”
“That’s a big penis”
“I don’t think so…at least not for my height”
“OK, let me see your penis”
\
I then pulled my pants down…He tugged on my penis a little, made some notes, and told me to do my pants up…and that was it.
I was then invited into his office, where he told me more about the surgery …He said that because of my young age and general good health, I was the “perfect surgical candidate”. A 1.5-inch gain was not only a possibility, but rather a probability…He also added that because of the “high demand” for this surgery, it would be a good idea to book as soon as possible (as in that day) for surgery.
Just as he was doing this, a young woman stormed into his office screaming that she was going to sue him for a poorly done breast enhancement surgery. He looked at her unflinchingly and said “Jennifer, I’ll be with you in a few minutes; I’m with another patient”. She left the office but started causing a scene in the waiting room. He apologized and asked me to sit down while he tended to this situation. I actually didn’t sit down but wandered around his office looking at the various books, journals….and my personal file….It was actually laid out, open on his desk. The usual info was written in it, including general observations about my state of health and character. It was exactly what I would expect a preliminary medical report to look like…There was however one glaring detail that both confused and disturbed me: In the section that was listed as “Condition”, the doctor wrote “micro penis”. Micro penis? I knew I wasn’t John Holmes…but micro penis? This was simply not true.
In retrospect there were loads of warning signs all over the place…The hard sell technique, the hysterical girl in the waiting room, the BS “micro penis” comment in an official medical document…Did I choose to listen to any of it? Hell no. As I mentioned in other posts on this site, denial is an extremely powerful force. Full steam ahead!
Chapter 4
The surgery was scheduled for Dec. 21st. 1994. Only one week from my initial consultation. I was excited…In fact, unbelievably, I had very few concerns at all. Although the doctor did point out that there were risks involved, he downplayed them… I put all my faith in the good doctor’s word. After all, he was a medical doctor...and aren’t doctors held to a higher standard than the rest of us?
Prior to the operation, I had to a have a general physical and blood work done. The doctor’s office facilitated all this and it was all very quick and easy.
There was a bit of a catch though. The doctor required that I have someone come to the office to pick me up after the surgery. I think it was required by law. Anyway, nobody (other than the clinic staff) knew I was having this performed… Absolutely nobody…especially my friends or family. So what was I to do? I told the office that I was having my sister pick me up with her car outside the office after the surgery…Which was actually the case. The story I told my sister was that I was having dental work done and that (because of the anesthetic), I needed someone to drive me home. OK…That snag was taken care of.
Finally “P” day came. I got up at 5am and caught the 6am train into the city. At 8:00am, I arrived at the office (he had a surgical room in his building), where a receptionist/nurse was waiting for me.
“Are you Pat”
“Yes”
“Could you bring your valuables into this room”
“Sure”
I put my stuff into a small locker
“Could you come into this room?”
It was an operating room with all the fixings….monitors, gurneys, surgical instruments…
“And can you put these on”
It was the attire I was to wear during surgery.
I had been sitting on the bed for about 30 minutes when I heard the (muffled) voice of the doctor in another room…getting louder and clearer as he approached the room…The door swung open…
“Good morning Pat! Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be doctor”
As I lay on the operating table, with a catheter in my arm and the nurses and anesthesiologist busily working around me and a drug induced euphoria started to envelop me…
I recall a single, momentary, fleeting moment of clarity…“What the hell am I doing?”…Then everything went black.
I woke up groggy and disorientated…Looking at a huge black clock on the wall (the kind they have in elementary schools), I couldn’t believe it was the afternoon…It honestly felt like I had just went under a second before. The nurse was slapping my face “Pat, Pat, Pat”…The doctor was there…He was bandaging my penis and taking pictures. “We’ve added 2 inches to your penis!”. “A new record for me”…”Congratulations to both of us”, I thought to myself.. At that point I was just interested in getting my bearings though…I lay there and the nurse asked me when my sister was picking me up. I said 4pm. The nurse then told me it was 3:30pm, so I had better start getting my things to go. When I told the nurse I was ready to go, she looked at me and asked me where my sister was. I told her I was meeting her outside. The nurse looked perplexed and spoke to me like I was mentally challenged. “No, that’s not how it works here Pat. I have to make sure that somebody is with you...We can’t have you going home alone.” We finally came to a compromise whereby the nurse accompanied me to my sister’s car…, which was parked outside (30 minutes late…just like my sister!)
And before I knew it, I was back in my own bed. Still groggy as hell…but one more hurdle completed…The biggest hurdle…Surgery!
When I woke up the next morning, I was still a bit disorientated…I couldn’t sleep well because of the nocturnal erections I was having throughout the night...I was on pain medication but obviously not enough. I slowly made my way to the washroom for my “morning pee”, and pulled down my track pants (I hadn’t taken them off since I put them on after the surgery the night before)...I held my bandaged penis as I started to urinate…. Two things of note here: One is that the pain was excruciating…I had never felt that type of pain ever in my life…It was like pissing razor blades. Second, is the fact that most of my urine ended up on the toilet seat, floor, and wall…It was a miracle how little urine actually made it into the bowl…Perhaps if I had aimed at the wall, the urine would have gone into the bowl?”
Afterward, as I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, holding my penis…I had to admit, my penis did look bigger. It absolutely looked thicker (due only to the swelling that would eventually disappear and leave me with my average girth)…but what about the length? I was eager to measure this amazing “2-inch” gain the doctor spoke of. I took out a ruler…The same ruler that had been with me through it all, taking all those obsessive measurements throughout my teen years and early twenties…We were a team…We had been through the trenches together and now my brother-in-arms was with me to finally celebrate victory! Even though my penis was completely bandaged, I could make it out enough to measure it flaccid…And the results were in…My new flaccid penis measured 5 inches! Not quite a 2-inch gain, but I was satisfied nonetheless. Next was the erect measurement (the measurement that mattered the most to me)…But for this measurement, I had to wait until I was erect…There was no way I was going to masturbate, so I had to wait for one of those “hard as a rock” nocturnal erections that were keeping me up at night…So, I fell back to sleep…Sure enough, 45 minutes later…bong…My erection was there…I hurriedly went into the washroom and got out my trusty ruler…And….my new erect measurement was… 6.75 inches!….6.75 inches? According to my math, a 6.3 inch erect penis with a 2 inch gain= an 8.3 inch penis…Where was the rest of this gain?
I felt…deflated…
Don’t get me wrong…Half an inch was better than nothing…especially to a neurotic, ‘obsessed with penis size’ mind like mine…but it was still disappointing…I was sure there was an explanation for this.
I visited the doctor the next day…Before I left for the doctor’s office (I drove this time), I was surprised by how I was able to get around just one day after surgery…Of course the pain was there, but I was able to walk short distances, drive…and do most everyday things.
My penis was still very swollen, and under the bandages I could see that it was terribly bruised …A color purple I had never seen before.
Incidentally, I started to lose the self conscious feeling I (understandably) initially had when I would go into the doctor’s office…I wasn’t that embarrassed to look at the receptionist in the eyes anymore or worry about what other patients were thinking…After all, they (the other patients) were most likely there for vanity reasons too, I thought.
I sat there eagerly waiting for my name to be called. I remember another guy…he must have been in his early fifties… saying to me “I’m getting my stitches out today”…I said “Good for you”…Here I was, two weeks before that I had never talked about my penis size issues with anyone, and now I am talking to complete strangers about my enlargement surgery…I had come a long way in a short time (no pun intended).
The receptionist called my name and I moved to the ever more familiar examination room. The muffled voice was growing louder and louder…the door swung open and…
“Hi Pat! How are you feeling today”
“Great doctor” I was always a bit of a kiss-ass…and I desperately wanted the doctor to like me and not be disappointed by any lack of progress or concern. There are probably deep seeded psychological reasons for this too (wholly unrelated to penis size), but that’s perhaps for another journal.
The doctor continued…
“Wow”, that surgery went wonderfully”…Special note here: In my personal experience, I’ve learned that, generally, when a cosmetic surgeon says something, it needs to be reinterpreted.
The following is a general rule of thumb:
Wonderful/Excellent= Very Good
Very Good= Good
Good/Well= Not so well (concerning)
Not so well/Not so good= badly (Panic time)
Badly= You’re screwed
“Great…So, I got a 2 inch gain?”
“At least”
“Well…actually… I measured last night erect and there was only half an inch gain”
“Oh, that’s because the rest of the penis has to fall down…It may take a few weeks for that”, the doctor said matter-of-factly. Honestly though, this was the first time I had heard about the “falling down” part.
“Awesome”…I was very relieved (after all, doctors never shade the truth) and the images of having an 8.5 inch were dancing in my head again. “Happy days are here again”, I thought to myself. It was Christmas time, I was on holiday, and my penis was bigger… What else could a 25-year-old guy want?
For the next week, the healing continued unabated…Exactly how the doctor said it would. I was physically very functional. Finally, it was time to take the bandages off….
On Dec. 28th, I sat waiting in the examining room. The doctor walked in and we had a little chat about the awful weather and the dangers of icy roads. Then he proceeded to unveil my new “gigantic” penis. Slowly the bandages came off, and the doctor, looking like a proud father, smiled and said “perfect”. I looked down and saw something that was certainly different than what I went into surgery with. My penis was certainly longer flaccid…But ‘perfect” was not the word that sprung to my mind. It looked “perfectly” mangled to me. The doctor had released the suspensory ligament of the penis and advanced the pubic skin using a large VY advancement flap…As a result, the ridges were curled up (what are commonly know as dog ears). There was also hair along my shaft.
This was all explained to me before the surgery…but it looked a lot more “mangled” than I had expected. “The pictures (of other patients) I had been shown to before the surgery looked a lot more aesthetically pleasing than this mess”, I remember thinking to myself. I didn’t know what to say to the doctor. I certainly didn’t want to ruin this special moment for him (eternal kiss-ass), so I just smiled and said “great”.
I remember driving home and rationalizing that having a mangled looking penis was the price I had to pay for having a gigantic one. Besides, it was still early in the healing process; the deformity wasn’t that bad…And women wouldn’t even notice after their eyes fixated on my 8.5 inch penis! They would be too crazy in lust. I was on top of the world again. Yes, it was true that those 2 inches (erect) hadn’t yet materialized, but it was just a matter of a few weeks before they were to magically appear. The doctor had looked me straight in the eye and basically promised me…And of course doctors always tell the truth, don’t they?
The New Year brought another change in my life. I was being transferred to Europe for my job. Shortly before I left, I paid the doctor one last visit. The stitches were out and everything looked “excellent”. In fact, he said I was the “most successful” case he had done up to that point. He also assured me that my penis would fall further down…and once the swelling was completely gone, I would see those inches in erect form too. Those European women were in for a treat!
Weeks went by in cold Europe…but those inches never came. I had actually tested my “equipment’ eight weeks post surgery…How did it go? Well, foreplay was completely different because I spent a great deal of energy making sure my partner couldn’t fully see my penis because it looked…. deformed. This also meant that I had to always have sex in a dark room. Fellatio was out too. And that extra half an inch certainly didn’t rock anybody’s world (including my own). “Hmmm, this “price” was more than I bargained for”, I thought to myself.
I wanted to know what was holding up the length gain…so I phoned the office. To my surprise, the doctor (not the receptionist) picked up the phone…
I recognized his voice instantly, “Hi, doctor…it’s me Pat…You performed an enlargement surgery on me in December”.
“Of course, I remember you…How’s everything going?”
“Well, I was just wondering…You said that my penis would eventually fall down and gradually lengthen over these last 2 months…But the truth is, it hasn’t…very much” I had to of course throw the “very much” in because I had to soften it a bit…I didn’t want the doctor to be too disappointed…
“Has it become shorter?”
“What?…No it hasn’t”. This struck me as an odd question.
“Well, you’re one of the lucky ones. Many of my patients are experiencing retraction”.
“Retraction!?”…That is something that was never, ever discussed as a possibility.
“Yes…but the good news is that if you put weights on your penis, you will be able to prevent this from happening and even gain length”
“Even gain length?” I had thought the length gain was a surety.
“Pat, you have to understand, this procedure is still very new and we are learning as we go along.”
To be honest, he did tell me this in our initial consultation that this procedure was in its pioneering stages, but he did downplay the risks considerably…He had told me, hundreds of these operations had been performed in China and that very few complications occurred. I remember as I spoke to the doctor on the phone, wouldn’t they (the Chinese) have known about this retraction possibility?
“I was one of the lucky ones?” Yes, I had gained about 1.5 inches in flaccid length, but there was hair all over the shaft and the sides of this shaft curled up...making it very obvious that there was something very odd about my penis…There would be no way I could ever get undressed in a a public change room again, or let a woman clearly see my penis…She would absolutely be able to tell I had some type of surgery down there.
The doctor then went on to tell me how to get some weights that would be of the appropriate size and weight. He wished me “good luck”…
I managed to get the weights and would ritualistically wrap them in adhesive tape around my penis every day in the morning before I went to work. I was of course terrified one of the weights would fall down at an inopportune time like a work presentation or hanging out with colleagues…but I somehow managed to avoid this.
These weights also had the added side effect of making my bulge look absolutely (realistically) humongous. At first this was completely unwanted, but…and I am embarrassed to say this…I started enjoying the attention a little…When I would be walking in a market place or a department store, I would notice women (sometimes attractive women), checking my package out...First time in my life…Well, at least one good thing came from this fiasco.
I would wear the weights several hours a day…and did this for about 6 months…There was very little length gain…but at least no retraction. Sexual encounters consisted of dark lighting, strategic positions, and no fellatio. In short, Sex (for me and probably my partners) was even more miserable than it had been before the operation.
In the early summer it was time to travel back to North America to visit family and friends….and of course pay the good doctor a visit.
The clinic was very welcoming and the staff seemed to remember me (to some extent at least). The doctor treated me like an old friend and, after examining me, was “extremely pleased” with the results. “Well, at least somebody is pleased with the results”, I thought to myself.
This was the point at which I should have said something…anything…I should have let him know I wasn’t satisfied with the results…that my penis looked ridiculous and that it was the biggest mistake of my life. But all I could muster up was “thank you for all your support doctor”.
Then he handed me an A4 size paper that described a new girth enhancement procedure that he had just started doing at his practice. Basically, he could take fat from my abdomen and transplant it into my penis, giving me an added circumference of 50%. He was wondering if I would be interested in having the procedure done…And because I was such a valued patient, he would give me a special discount. As he was giving me this sales pitch, the last 9 months of cost, inconvenience, and disappointment flashed before my eyes. Now, my penis was not only small (in my opinion), but also completely deformed. Did he really think that I was so stupid that I would fall for it again?
“That sounds great doctor, but we’ll have to do the procedure soon because I’m due back in Europe next month”
“No problem Pat.”
Chapter 5 will detail my dermal fat graft experience
Thank you very much for reading!
Before I begin, I think it is best for me to give you some basic facts about myself.
Race: I am causcasioan,
Height: 6 feet, 1 inch
Age: 42
Education: Graduate school
Job: Business…. Solid, well paying job
Penis Stats.
Before first surgery:
Flaccid Length: 3.8 inches
Flaccid girth: Not recorded
Erect Length: 6.3 inches
Erect girth: 5 inches
Chapter 1
Where to begin? Well, I guess I should start when I first actually started becoming aware of my penis and how it compared to other boys my age. I guess it would have to be back in junior high school. I was 13 or 14 years old and we all had to start showering after gym class together. I remember, to my amazement, that some of the boys already had hair under their arms and in their pubic region. I didn’t have one hair! As I recall, size was not an issue at the beginning for me. My main fear was that everyone was going to see that I had no pubic hair. I somehow would manage to find a way to not shower and exit the change room without other students noticing. This would happen weekly. I would however stay in the change room long enough to notice that the boys who had not hit puberty quite yet would have to endure their share of ribbing and name calling. I had indeed made the right decision to not shower!
One day after basketball practice at school, one of the other players (a tall, lanky guy) proceeded to take off his uniform and enter the shower. When he did this, a hush filled the entire change room. This guy had an enormous flaccid penis. I know how memories can be distorted over time, but I swear this guys penis must have been 8 or 9 inches long flaccid…And he was only 14 years old! If there was any one point that I could pinpoint where the genesis of my complex about penis size occurred, it was at this moment. This guy literally was 4 or 5 times bigger than me flaccid. The entire change room then erupted into laughter…Not me though…I sat on the change room bench, and concluded (incorrectly) that my penis was of an insufficient size. This torture would go on for all of basketball season. This well endowed guy would (like clockwork), take off his clothes and shower in front of us…Not surprisingly, most of the other guys stopped showering (when he was there at least)…so we would just watch (out of the corner of our eyes) this guy…I am pretty sure that I was not the only one traumatized by this…Whatever happened to this guy? Did he become the Don Juan of our century? I have no idea. He ended up moving to another part of the country at the end of the year. Like a puff of smoke and he was gone. Thank God, I don’t think I could have endured it during high school too…A constant reminder of my inadequacy…
I finally started to hit puberty at the end of grade 8 and developed into a big, strapping young boy. I was never overly athletic, but I was a good looking kid (if I do say so myself)…I also had good grades…My family was upper middle class, and they provided me with a loving, supportive environment. I had everything going for me.
Up to the time I was 17, I managed, by some miracle, to not let any of my friends or classmates see my penis. By this point I had started, in an unhealthy, obsessive way, to worry about my penis size. Again, my penis size flaccid was probably about 3 inches (at that time)…so completely normal. But I was sure it was undersized. It didn’t help that I was quite tall, making my penis appear small in proportion to my body. I would spend hours in bookstores and libraries researching about penis size. Worse though were adult filmsographic books and movies. I would see these gargantuan penises and get a lump my throat…thinking I would never be able to satisfy a woman with my pathetic one.
I remember the day I finally debuted my penis in front of my friends. I had started to weight lift and would often go to the gym with my friends after school. The gym had a shower and Jacuzzi. and it was just proper gym etiquette to take a shower after working out. There was no escaping it. I had to take a shower with my friends. I thought, well, my penis doesn’t look so bad when I’m relaxed...and it looks good when I have a bit of “a chub”…So my plan was to “chub up” just before I entered the shower. I left the weight training area and preceded to the change room…I undressed to my underwear and told my friends that I had to go to the toilet. I went to the toilet and tried to “chub up” by massaging (masturbating) myself. Unfortunately, my penis was not having any of it. And did what it always does in stressful situations…Retract and shrivel…Oh my gosh, now my penis was even smaller than it usually is! I thought about just not showering and going home…but figured that would look too conspicuous…so I gathered up all my courage, swallowed my pride…and entered the shower area. By the time I entered all my friends had finished showering and were relaxing in the Jacuzzi…This was the absolute worst-case scenario. Their eyes fixed on me as I stood under the faucet of the shower. I somehow managed to garner the courage to take the towel off…and… took a very quick shower…Of course the shower water was cold on top of everything…adding to my penis problems…I then made my way to the Jacuzzi and jumped in. Nobody made a comment at the time and life went on…A week later though, when I was getting dressed after gym class (of course no shower), a friend of mine who saw me naked the week before asked me why I didn’t shower after gym class…I told him that I just didn’t have the time…Then he said something that shook me terribly…He said “Don’t worry about your size too much; my dick is small too” …All my worries and suspicions were confirmed; I did have a small penis! My life was ruined. Incidentally, the guy who said this to me really and truly did have a small penis! I couldn’t believe we were being lumped together.
Throughout high school I continued to avoid the showers as much as possible and my obsession with penis size continued. I would religiously measure my penis every day after school. It was a system…I would masturbate, measure, then take meticulous notes of flaccid and erect lengths Girth was never a consideration at this time for me. By the time I was 18 my penis had basically finished growing…Flaccid length (3.8 inches), erect length (6. 3 inches)..How sad I thought. Even though all the books and articles (literally hundreds) that I read said I was average or even above average, I was sure they were lying (just to make us needle dicks feel good about ourselves) because of firsthand evidence (junior high school guy) in the locker room and adult filmso movies! How was I ever going to satisfy a girl?
Needless to say, I never had a girlfriend in high school. It wasn’t due only to my penis size issues (though they didn’t help), but rather to my shy and awkward personality.
It wasn’t until university that I finally met my first girlfriend…And that’s when my penis size issues went from theoretical to practical concerns…
Chapter 2
I met my first girlfriend three weeks before I was to head off to university. I had had basically no experience with the opposite sex and had been looking forward to all the opportunities waiting for me as a freshman at a large university. Fate intervened early though…I met “Brenda” through friends, got her number, made a bumbling phone call…and got the date. I was intensely shy and it took me a few dates to even work up the courage to kiss her. We were both complete virgins and had no idea what to do. Remember, this was back in the non-Internet 1980s. Sex was much more of a mystery…much less talked about. However…nature indeed took its course…and by the second month we had started regularly “parking” and making out. At first it was just talking and holding hands…This gradually moved onto kissing…then onto French kissing…Then I got her top off, and then her bottoms…It was magical. The mysteries of the female anatomy were being revealed to me in the most magnificent way.
Unfortunately, for Brenda, I was not so accommodating when she tried to undo my pants. In fact, I had no intention of undoing my pants. I was terrified she was going to take one look at my dick and giggle. Yes, I know she was a virgin…And most likely in that day and age she hadn’t really been exposed to adult filmsography and all those monstrous penises…but I felt… so inadequate. I remember at that time reading a woman’s magazine where a reader wrote in and explained how she would be able to determine the size of a man’s penis by leaning up against him and gently touching his crotch. Words that were bantered around included such things as “cucumber” and “large banana”… I remember thinking that if she were to do that to me, she would feel something that would be akin to a package of “Rolos”…Would a woman find that sexy? I didn’t think so. As a result of all this, I started becoming even more and more obsessed about the penis size issue. I would spend endless hours in the university library (when I should have been spending time on my studies) researching penis size.
Brenda started becoming more aggressive during our make out sessions…She would (in a playful way) try to touch my penis and would, in a seductive voice, ask me if I wanted her to do “anything”. I would tell her that I would prefer to wait because if she were to unbutton my pants, I would have trouble controlling myself. Of course this was all untrue…I just didn’t want her to see my penis!
Finally, around the 3rd month of dating, I had to let her finally “see” “it”. She naturally was finding it odd that I wouldn’t even let her touch my penis through my jeans…so, I finally promised the next week I would “acquiesce”. Beside the “size” issue was another major issue…The fact that because of my unhealthy obsession and basic neurosis regarding penis size, I was unable to get fully hard in stressful situations…And any intimate encounter was “stressful”. What was I to do? For the last three months I had been given the wondrous gift…basically full reign… of a beautiful virgin’s body. What would she get? An undersized, shriveled up, gelatinous glob…I had five days before we were to meet…What to do? Of course, back to the books of the university library, feeding my ridiculous neurotic obsession!
I remember the day well…It was in November…sunny but cool…It was in late morning of a Saturday. We were walking in a forested area and just talking…I was dreading the evening (penis time)…We were holding hands and we were miles from anyone else….She leaned over and kissed me….French kissed me…Bong! I got a major woody…I thought “well…now is as good a time as any”…not really (it was in a forest after all) …but hey, I was 18 and an idiot….I quickly unzipped my pants and let her finally see my “manhood” (before I lost the erection). She squeezed it and said…”Wow, that is big”…I’m not sure if she was sincere with that comment (it was after all the first one she had seen to my knowledge)..or just massaging my ego…but it was the nicest, most complimentary thing anybody had ever said to me…I was in heaven. All my apprehensions disintegrated and for the next few weeks it was my turn to be on the receiving end of sexual exploration. It was all so magnificent.
Slowly but surely things were building towards intercourse. We had decided that it was best for her to get on the pill for when we eventually started to have sex. Back then, getting pregnant meant basically having the child…And there was no way we were ready for that. Heavy petting was fine but the idea of intercourse was very intimidating. I was sure that when we finally did, I would finally be exposed for having an insuffiently sized penis. Yes, her “your penis is big” comment...although very encouraging…was unable to completely destroy the years of damage my neurotic obsession caused…I was therefore determined to put off sexual intercourse as long as possible…I managed to stave it off a few months because that’s how long you have to generally wait before “the pill” is ready to work…This was the perfect excuse.
We would spend hours on oral sex. At times, Brenda would guide my penis toward her vagina, indicating to me that she was absolutely fine with me entering her…However, at the very thought of doing that, and the potential failure it represented, I would lose my erection. One time, I was pleasing her with my fingers and she grabbed both sides of my head and said “if you want to make love to me right now, I won’t stop you”. I grabbed her arms and said “There’s nothing I would like to do more, but we should wait until it’s completely safe”. Of course that was BS. I just didn’t have the confidence to do it.
Finally by Christmas there was no escaping sexual intercourse. The doctor gave Brenda and I the green light… and the romantic season of Christmas was upon us. I had three weeks off from school and we were together almost every single day.
One day she came over to my house when my parents weren’t home. This was a very rare occurrence,having a bedroom all to ourselves. Up to that point, most of our romantic encounters happened on my father’s car seats…If my father only knew!
Brenda made her way to my bed lay down and said, ”I’ve been waiting my waiting my whole life for this moment”. “Holy crap!” I thought to myself. “”the pressure is on”…Because of the anxiety, my penis started to deflate (just as I feared)….I jumped under the covers and said something to effect “let’s take this slow and enjoy every minute”…Not this time for Brenda; she wanted “PENIS”.. I was limp at best but still attempted to enter her. What surprised me was how easy it was to get inside. I always hear about how the first time is very difficult to enter a woman…Well, mine went in with little or no friction. In fact, to my utter horror, she said the thing that is usually only associated with jokes…She said “is it in?”…I said “no”…which wasn’t true… It was fully in…I took my penis out and said “let’s try this again later when I more relaxed”.
My worst fears were realized (again), I had put my penis in her and instead of getting that pained expression of joy on her face…she didn’t even know it was in her… She lost her virginity but didn’t even notice!
How devastating.
In retrospect, as an aficionado of penis size (now), I realize now this was basically due to the fact that I wasn’t fully hard...and not because my penis was too small…but there would have been no explaining this to me at that time. As far as I was concerned, I was incapable of satisfying a woman due to my small penis size
My subsequent attempts the following weeks were not much more successful…My penis was generally less than rock hard when we would try to make love, and she there was generally little or no reaction from her. And this was a girl who would easily orgasm with my fingers or my tongue. Finally, I asked her how the sex was. She replied, “Well…it’s nothing to write home about”. I felt destroyed…I felt I was worthless as a lover…and therefore as a man….And this was all due to my pathetic excuse for a penis (at least I thought it was).
Fortunately, over time, sex did get better…I managed to be able to get fully hard… but only when Brenda was on top. She even started to cum regularly (from my penis). However, I was unable to properly have missionary style sex because I would tense up and lose my erection. Doggy style was hit and miss. I do think on many levels she wasn’t satisfied. She must have been aware that I was uptight, that my penis was often limp…and because I had such little experience, I just didn’t know what I was doing….
Brenda and I broke up two years later. In fact, it was I who dumped her. Even though I was deficient (or so I thought) in the penis department, I was attractive enough to the opposite sex that they were flirting with me all the time at university. Nature was calling and I wanted to explore what was out there. In the back of my mind though, there was always that belief that I didn’t quite measure up. How would other girls react to my insufficient size. I was willing to risk it…all in the name of sowing my seeds.
Chapter 3
Soon after Brenda and I broke up (actually, almost immediately), I was exploring my newfound singleness…I had been anticipating the breakup for a couple of months and had laid down significant (social) groundwork, so that the move would be seamless…Yes, I was a bit of a jerk, but I was being governed by a force stronger than anything in the universe…P***y.
“Carmen” was extremely attractive and had been flirting with me since my sophomore year. I would often go to the local university dance bar and she made it quite clear I could take her home any time I wanted…She wasn’t trashy…and she was a brilliant student…but I’m sure she had seen her fair share of penises…Something that, of course, figured into my “mating” assessment. Nonetheless, she was just too hot to pass up.
I remember clearly, it was a cool (Thursday) October evening…Thursdays were always the rocking nights at the University and I was in the bar as usual with my friends. U2 was playing in the background, and she was hanging around near my table…I was tipsy and had my courage up...and after a little bit of small talk, asked her to go for a walk outside. She agreed to that and we had a beautiful stroll under the moonlit night…When I say “we”, I mean Carmen, myself…and that unpredictable package of “Rolos” in my pants…That third party always figured prominently one way or the other…
We eventually found the way to her dorm room and started making out…One thing led to another, as they most always do…Incidentally, this girl had the biggest breasts I have ever encountered in my life…They must have been at least “F” or even “G” cups…She actually had a contraption under bra to keep her breasts from spilling out…Anyway, I started to get into foreplay…necking, “massaging”, even oral sex (on her). Not Carmen though…She was interested in only one thing…INTERCOURSE….She was fumbling with my pants…The whole time, of course, instead of enjoying this magical time with a horny, sexy, well endowed, brilliant young woman. I was just concerned about what she would think of my penis…. And, of course, as a result of this worry, my penis (The Rolos) deflated into the gelatinous blob I was so familiar with….I took off my pants and suggested we should take a shower (to stall for time)…Not Carmen, she wanted PENIS…She grabbed it (the blob) before I could stop her…At that instant, I saw a change in her face…It was a mix of disappointment, resignation …and even amusement. I immediately switched into damage control…I tried to engage in oral sex…but she was having none of that by then…She said, that “we didn’t know each other well enough for that”. I remember thinking that “…”but we know each other well enough for intercourse?” The whole situation was rapidly going from bad to worse… Finally, I decided to put my semi-hard penis into her in hopes that it would get hard while thrusting…. Again, as with my first girlfriend Brenda, there was very little friction when I entered her…Actually, it was like entering a cave…Nonetheless, I focused on those huge, gorgeous breasts and tight young skin…and miraculously started getting somewhat hard.. I came after about 5 minutes of desperate thrusting. I was able to at least finish the job…a minor victory!
I’m pretty sure though that Carmen was quite unimpressed. The only time I even saw a hint of pleasure on her face …or it could have been a merciful acknowledgement that she felt something…. was just before I ejaculated. Probably the only point during sex that my penis was actually fully hard.
Then came the awkward “afterglow”…I tried to hold and caress her, but she just pulled away and said that it was “getting late”. “Getting late? 10:30pm is late?”, I remember thinking to myself. I didn’t even bother to ask to use her shower. I just got dressed quickly and made an exit…I remember kissing her on the cheek as I left…She certainly wasn’t hiding her disappointment and even seemed to enjoy making it known to me…
As I walked back to my dorm, I was thinking to myself that if I had given her 2 hours of heavy thrusting with a 10 inch penis, I’m absolutely sure her farewell to me would have been much more gracious. Yes, my “inadequate” penis struck yet again.
There is something depressing about autumn on the east coast…The cold, cloudy weather, back to school, the slow gradual march to winter…. This failed sexual encounter made it so much worse though. I really felt like giving up on sex completely. If anything, females around the globe (or at least my university), could breathe a collective sigh of relief.
Again, in retrospect, size was probably never the issue…It was most likely the rigidity of my penis and the poor technique that resulted from my self conscious, neurotic behavior. But perception is reality and this issue became a huge beast in my life to contend with. Knowing what I know now, I should have made a b-line for badly needed psychological therapy as this problem was probably due to a manifestation of self esteem issues and stress caused by other things going on in my life. There would have been no way of convincing me that this was a psychological issue at that time though…I was absolutely sure it was a penis size issue and there would have been no way of convincing me otherwise.
I was always a problem-fixing time of guy…and this penis size issue was a problem that wasn’t going to go away. What to do? Ok…enlarge it….But one has to remember that this was the early 1990s and there were very few options for penis enlargement. There was, of course, pumping, but all the research I had done on it said that the gains were very temporary and could lead to vascular damage easily, making erections more difficult...So I decided to dismiss that idea. OK, next was stretching. The research I had done on this method offered only anecdotal evidence (very little) pointing to minimal gains…. This however was better than nothing I remember thinking to myself…so I started stretching my penis every day for about 30 minutes (by tugging on it). I did this unfailingly for about 6 months. The results…Zero gains…
Next was jelqing…and very long story short…. I got the same results…Zero gains…
I became convinced that all the enlargement methods were basically bogus and there was no way to enlarge one’s penis permanently. Resignation and a sense of hopelessness started to set in. I was convinced I would forever be saddled with an undersized penis and there was nothing I could do about it. I remember, whenever I had the opportunity to make a wish…whether it be throwing a coin in wishing well, spotting a first star at night, or blowing out candles on my birthday cake…and others would be wishing for a loved one to recover from a serious illness or wishing for world peace…I would, you guessed it, be wishing for a large penis. My neurosis would never let me completely give up hope after all..
By this time (1994), I was a graduate student studying economics. I was also working at a bank (part-time). There was plenty of action to be had and I had my share of it. By the time I was 26 years old, I probably had been with about 7 females. I did start to relax a bit when I would engage in sexual activity with a girl…and sex would certainly get better over time if I slept with the same one. But truthfully, when I had intercourse, I was never really very good. At best I was adequate. I didn’t ever get any compliments…then again, no real (direct) complaints. Honestly, rarely would I get any reaction at all when my penis was inside a partner. I seldom would hear a girl moan and never once heard one scream (in ecstasy) when I was inside her. Being in a dorm, when I was in my first few years at university, I heard my fair of moaning and screaming from other dorm rooms. What did they have that I didn’t? And of course there were mainstream movies…not to mention adult filmso movies to reinforce my complex … No, something was wrong, and that something was my penis!
My “surgical” journey started off like just like any regular day for me. I was on the train going to work (by this time I had finished graduate school and was working full time). I was reading the newspaper…and out of the corner of my eye, caught a story about a cosmetic surgeon who was pioneering a new surgery for penis elongation on the east coast. This was what I was waiting for; it was the answer to my greatest dream! The article detailed how the enlargement method was first used in China, and that it could lengthen a penis by 1.5 inches. 1.5 inches? That would almost give me an 8-inch penis!
That would make me a sex God! All my problems would be solved!
Of course, I neglected to focus on the “pioneer stages” part of the article. Focus on the positive and completely ignore any negative aspects…A misguided philosophy I would adhere to throughout my entire quest for penis enlargement. I was determined to pay this doctor a visit! I went home, and made a (consultation) appointment for the next week.
The day arrived and I started off on the long drive to the office. I remember how nervous I was when I was parking the car. Finally, I would be face to face with someone to discuss my insecurities about my penis size…and hopefully find a solution. It was indeed an important day. I slowly made my way up the stairs to his clinic. I opened the door. I don’t know what I was expecting to see in there, but it certainly wasn’t what I saw. There were about five or six young women in the waiting room reading magazines. Most of them I later learned were there for nose or breast augmentation. I entered and made my way to the receptionist. All the while I was completely convinced that everybody in the waiting room knew why I was there. The receptionist was kind enough and confirmed my name…Then she asked me the one thing I thought she wasn’t going to…”Why are you here to see the doctor?” I didn’t expect this because I had had already told the office over the phone the answer to this. The receptionist was young, attractive, and probably around my age (at the time)…I was mortified…I didn’t know what to say, so I showed her the cutout newspaper article. She looked at it and it “Oh…got it”. She then asked me to sit down and told me the doctor would see me in a little while…”OK, got past hurdle one”, I thought to myself…Soon afterward I found myself waiting in a small consultation room for the doctor. The doctor walked in while at the same time looking at the form I had just filled out …He looked exactly like his picture in the newspaper but about a foot shorter than I imagined he would...”Would he be performing the surgery with stilts on? ”, I thought.
Our conversation went something like this:
”So, you’re interested in penis enlargement?”
“Yes”
“Why?”
“I believe I have a small penis”
“How big is your penis?”
“3.8 inches”
“Erect?”
“No flaccid”
“How big is it erect”
“6.3 inches”
“That’s a big penis”
“I don’t think so…at least not for my height”
“OK, let me see your penis”
\
I then pulled my pants down…He tugged on my penis a little, made some notes, and told me to do my pants up…and that was it.
I was then invited into his office, where he told me more about the surgery …He said that because of my young age and general good health, I was the “perfect surgical candidate”. A 1.5-inch gain was not only a possibility, but rather a probability…He also added that because of the “high demand” for this surgery, it would be a good idea to book as soon as possible (as in that day) for surgery.
Just as he was doing this, a young woman stormed into his office screaming that she was going to sue him for a poorly done breast enhancement surgery. He looked at her unflinchingly and said “Jennifer, I’ll be with you in a few minutes; I’m with another patient”. She left the office but started causing a scene in the waiting room. He apologized and asked me to sit down while he tended to this situation. I actually didn’t sit down but wandered around his office looking at the various books, journals….and my personal file….It was actually laid out, open on his desk. The usual info was written in it, including general observations about my state of health and character. It was exactly what I would expect a preliminary medical report to look like…There was however one glaring detail that both confused and disturbed me: In the section that was listed as “Condition”, the doctor wrote “micro penis”. Micro penis? I knew I wasn’t John Holmes…but micro penis? This was simply not true.
In retrospect there were loads of warning signs all over the place…The hard sell technique, the hysterical girl in the waiting room, the BS “micro penis” comment in an official medical document…Did I choose to listen to any of it? Hell no. As I mentioned in other posts on this site, denial is an extremely powerful force. Full steam ahead!
Chapter 4
The surgery was scheduled for Dec. 21st. 1994. Only one week from my initial consultation. I was excited…In fact, unbelievably, I had very few concerns at all. Although the doctor did point out that there were risks involved, he downplayed them… I put all my faith in the good doctor’s word. After all, he was a medical doctor...and aren’t doctors held to a higher standard than the rest of us?
Prior to the operation, I had to a have a general physical and blood work done. The doctor’s office facilitated all this and it was all very quick and easy.
There was a bit of a catch though. The doctor required that I have someone come to the office to pick me up after the surgery. I think it was required by law. Anyway, nobody (other than the clinic staff) knew I was having this performed… Absolutely nobody…especially my friends or family. So what was I to do? I told the office that I was having my sister pick me up with her car outside the office after the surgery…Which was actually the case. The story I told my sister was that I was having dental work done and that (because of the anesthetic), I needed someone to drive me home. OK…That snag was taken care of.
Finally “P” day came. I got up at 5am and caught the 6am train into the city. At 8:00am, I arrived at the office (he had a surgical room in his building), where a receptionist/nurse was waiting for me.
“Are you Pat”
“Yes”
“Could you bring your valuables into this room”
“Sure”
I put my stuff into a small locker
“Could you come into this room?”
It was an operating room with all the fixings….monitors, gurneys, surgical instruments…
“And can you put these on”
It was the attire I was to wear during surgery.
I had been sitting on the bed for about 30 minutes when I heard the (muffled) voice of the doctor in another room…getting louder and clearer as he approached the room…The door swung open…
“Good morning Pat! Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be doctor”
As I lay on the operating table, with a catheter in my arm and the nurses and anesthesiologist busily working around me and a drug induced euphoria started to envelop me…
I recall a single, momentary, fleeting moment of clarity…“What the hell am I doing?”…Then everything went black.
I woke up groggy and disorientated…Looking at a huge black clock on the wall (the kind they have in elementary schools), I couldn’t believe it was the afternoon…It honestly felt like I had just went under a second before. The nurse was slapping my face “Pat, Pat, Pat”…The doctor was there…He was bandaging my penis and taking pictures. “We’ve added 2 inches to your penis!”. “A new record for me”…”Congratulations to both of us”, I thought to myself.. At that point I was just interested in getting my bearings though…I lay there and the nurse asked me when my sister was picking me up. I said 4pm. The nurse then told me it was 3:30pm, so I had better start getting my things to go. When I told the nurse I was ready to go, she looked at me and asked me where my sister was. I told her I was meeting her outside. The nurse looked perplexed and spoke to me like I was mentally challenged. “No, that’s not how it works here Pat. I have to make sure that somebody is with you...We can’t have you going home alone.” We finally came to a compromise whereby the nurse accompanied me to my sister’s car…, which was parked outside (30 minutes late…just like my sister!)
And before I knew it, I was back in my own bed. Still groggy as hell…but one more hurdle completed…The biggest hurdle…Surgery!
When I woke up the next morning, I was still a bit disorientated…I couldn’t sleep well because of the nocturnal erections I was having throughout the night...I was on pain medication but obviously not enough. I slowly made my way to the washroom for my “morning pee”, and pulled down my track pants (I hadn’t taken them off since I put them on after the surgery the night before)...I held my bandaged penis as I started to urinate…. Two things of note here: One is that the pain was excruciating…I had never felt that type of pain ever in my life…It was like pissing razor blades. Second, is the fact that most of my urine ended up on the toilet seat, floor, and wall…It was a miracle how little urine actually made it into the bowl…Perhaps if I had aimed at the wall, the urine would have gone into the bowl?”
Afterward, as I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, holding my penis…I had to admit, my penis did look bigger. It absolutely looked thicker (due only to the swelling that would eventually disappear and leave me with my average girth)…but what about the length? I was eager to measure this amazing “2-inch” gain the doctor spoke of. I took out a ruler…The same ruler that had been with me through it all, taking all those obsessive measurements throughout my teen years and early twenties…We were a team…We had been through the trenches together and now my brother-in-arms was with me to finally celebrate victory! Even though my penis was completely bandaged, I could make it out enough to measure it flaccid…And the results were in…My new flaccid penis measured 5 inches! Not quite a 2-inch gain, but I was satisfied nonetheless. Next was the erect measurement (the measurement that mattered the most to me)…But for this measurement, I had to wait until I was erect…There was no way I was going to masturbate, so I had to wait for one of those “hard as a rock” nocturnal erections that were keeping me up at night…So, I fell back to sleep…Sure enough, 45 minutes later…bong…My erection was there…I hurriedly went into the washroom and got out my trusty ruler…And….my new erect measurement was… 6.75 inches!….6.75 inches? According to my math, a 6.3 inch erect penis with a 2 inch gain= an 8.3 inch penis…Where was the rest of this gain?
I felt…deflated…
Don’t get me wrong…Half an inch was better than nothing…especially to a neurotic, ‘obsessed with penis size’ mind like mine…but it was still disappointing…I was sure there was an explanation for this.
I visited the doctor the next day…Before I left for the doctor’s office (I drove this time), I was surprised by how I was able to get around just one day after surgery…Of course the pain was there, but I was able to walk short distances, drive…and do most everyday things.
My penis was still very swollen, and under the bandages I could see that it was terribly bruised …A color purple I had never seen before.
Incidentally, I started to lose the self conscious feeling I (understandably) initially had when I would go into the doctor’s office…I wasn’t that embarrassed to look at the receptionist in the eyes anymore or worry about what other patients were thinking…After all, they (the other patients) were most likely there for vanity reasons too, I thought.
I sat there eagerly waiting for my name to be called. I remember another guy…he must have been in his early fifties… saying to me “I’m getting my stitches out today”…I said “Good for you”…Here I was, two weeks before that I had never talked about my penis size issues with anyone, and now I am talking to complete strangers about my enlargement surgery…I had come a long way in a short time (no pun intended).
The receptionist called my name and I moved to the ever more familiar examination room. The muffled voice was growing louder and louder…the door swung open and…
“Hi Pat! How are you feeling today”
“Great doctor” I was always a bit of a kiss-ass…and I desperately wanted the doctor to like me and not be disappointed by any lack of progress or concern. There are probably deep seeded psychological reasons for this too (wholly unrelated to penis size), but that’s perhaps for another journal.
The doctor continued…
“Wow”, that surgery went wonderfully”…Special note here: In my personal experience, I’ve learned that, generally, when a cosmetic surgeon says something, it needs to be reinterpreted.
The following is a general rule of thumb:
Wonderful/Excellent= Very Good
Very Good= Good
Good/Well= Not so well (concerning)
Not so well/Not so good= badly (Panic time)
Badly= You’re screwed
“Great…So, I got a 2 inch gain?”
“At least”
“Well…actually… I measured last night erect and there was only half an inch gain”
“Oh, that’s because the rest of the penis has to fall down…It may take a few weeks for that”, the doctor said matter-of-factly. Honestly though, this was the first time I had heard about the “falling down” part.
“Awesome”…I was very relieved (after all, doctors never shade the truth) and the images of having an 8.5 inch were dancing in my head again. “Happy days are here again”, I thought to myself. It was Christmas time, I was on holiday, and my penis was bigger… What else could a 25-year-old guy want?
For the next week, the healing continued unabated…Exactly how the doctor said it would. I was physically very functional. Finally, it was time to take the bandages off….
On Dec. 28th, I sat waiting in the examining room. The doctor walked in and we had a little chat about the awful weather and the dangers of icy roads. Then he proceeded to unveil my new “gigantic” penis. Slowly the bandages came off, and the doctor, looking like a proud father, smiled and said “perfect”. I looked down and saw something that was certainly different than what I went into surgery with. My penis was certainly longer flaccid…But ‘perfect” was not the word that sprung to my mind. It looked “perfectly” mangled to me. The doctor had released the suspensory ligament of the penis and advanced the pubic skin using a large VY advancement flap…As a result, the ridges were curled up (what are commonly know as dog ears). There was also hair along my shaft.
This was all explained to me before the surgery…but it looked a lot more “mangled” than I had expected. “The pictures (of other patients) I had been shown to before the surgery looked a lot more aesthetically pleasing than this mess”, I remember thinking to myself. I didn’t know what to say to the doctor. I certainly didn’t want to ruin this special moment for him (eternal kiss-ass), so I just smiled and said “great”.
I remember driving home and rationalizing that having a mangled looking penis was the price I had to pay for having a gigantic one. Besides, it was still early in the healing process; the deformity wasn’t that bad…And women wouldn’t even notice after their eyes fixated on my 8.5 inch penis! They would be too crazy in lust. I was on top of the world again. Yes, it was true that those 2 inches (erect) hadn’t yet materialized, but it was just a matter of a few weeks before they were to magically appear. The doctor had looked me straight in the eye and basically promised me…And of course doctors always tell the truth, don’t they?
The New Year brought another change in my life. I was being transferred to Europe for my job. Shortly before I left, I paid the doctor one last visit. The stitches were out and everything looked “excellent”. In fact, he said I was the “most successful” case he had done up to that point. He also assured me that my penis would fall further down…and once the swelling was completely gone, I would see those inches in erect form too. Those European women were in for a treat!
Weeks went by in cold Europe…but those inches never came. I had actually tested my “equipment’ eight weeks post surgery…How did it go? Well, foreplay was completely different because I spent a great deal of energy making sure my partner couldn’t fully see my penis because it looked…. deformed. This also meant that I had to always have sex in a dark room. Fellatio was out too. And that extra half an inch certainly didn’t rock anybody’s world (including my own). “Hmmm, this “price” was more than I bargained for”, I thought to myself.
I wanted to know what was holding up the length gain…so I phoned the office. To my surprise, the doctor (not the receptionist) picked up the phone…
I recognized his voice instantly, “Hi, doctor…it’s me Pat…You performed an enlargement surgery on me in December”.
“Of course, I remember you…How’s everything going?”
“Well, I was just wondering…You said that my penis would eventually fall down and gradually lengthen over these last 2 months…But the truth is, it hasn’t…very much” I had to of course throw the “very much” in because I had to soften it a bit…I didn’t want the doctor to be too disappointed…
“Has it become shorter?”
“What?…No it hasn’t”. This struck me as an odd question.
“Well, you’re one of the lucky ones. Many of my patients are experiencing retraction”.
“Retraction!?”…That is something that was never, ever discussed as a possibility.
“Yes…but the good news is that if you put weights on your penis, you will be able to prevent this from happening and even gain length”
“Even gain length?” I had thought the length gain was a surety.
“Pat, you have to understand, this procedure is still very new and we are learning as we go along.”
To be honest, he did tell me this in our initial consultation that this procedure was in its pioneering stages, but he did downplay the risks considerably…He had told me, hundreds of these operations had been performed in China and that very few complications occurred. I remember as I spoke to the doctor on the phone, wouldn’t they (the Chinese) have known about this retraction possibility?
“I was one of the lucky ones?” Yes, I had gained about 1.5 inches in flaccid length, but there was hair all over the shaft and the sides of this shaft curled up...making it very obvious that there was something very odd about my penis…There would be no way I could ever get undressed in a a public change room again, or let a woman clearly see my penis…She would absolutely be able to tell I had some type of surgery down there.
The doctor then went on to tell me how to get some weights that would be of the appropriate size and weight. He wished me “good luck”…
I managed to get the weights and would ritualistically wrap them in adhesive tape around my penis every day in the morning before I went to work. I was of course terrified one of the weights would fall down at an inopportune time like a work presentation or hanging out with colleagues…but I somehow managed to avoid this.
These weights also had the added side effect of making my bulge look absolutely (realistically) humongous. At first this was completely unwanted, but…and I am embarrassed to say this…I started enjoying the attention a little…When I would be walking in a market place or a department store, I would notice women (sometimes attractive women), checking my package out...First time in my life…Well, at least one good thing came from this fiasco.
I would wear the weights several hours a day…and did this for about 6 months…There was very little length gain…but at least no retraction. Sexual encounters consisted of dark lighting, strategic positions, and no fellatio. In short, Sex (for me and probably my partners) was even more miserable than it had been before the operation.
In the early summer it was time to travel back to North America to visit family and friends….and of course pay the good doctor a visit.
The clinic was very welcoming and the staff seemed to remember me (to some extent at least). The doctor treated me like an old friend and, after examining me, was “extremely pleased” with the results. “Well, at least somebody is pleased with the results”, I thought to myself.
This was the point at which I should have said something…anything…I should have let him know I wasn’t satisfied with the results…that my penis looked ridiculous and that it was the biggest mistake of my life. But all I could muster up was “thank you for all your support doctor”.
Then he handed me an A4 size paper that described a new girth enhancement procedure that he had just started doing at his practice. Basically, he could take fat from my abdomen and transplant it into my penis, giving me an added circumference of 50%. He was wondering if I would be interested in having the procedure done…And because I was such a valued patient, he would give me a special discount. As he was giving me this sales pitch, the last 9 months of cost, inconvenience, and disappointment flashed before my eyes. Now, my penis was not only small (in my opinion), but also completely deformed. Did he really think that I was so stupid that I would fall for it again?
“That sounds great doctor, but we’ll have to do the procedure soon because I’m due back in Europe next month”
“No problem Pat.”
Chapter 5 will detail my dermal fat graft experience
Thank you very much for reading!
It's been later than usual because my "daytime job” has been very busy. 
It’s turning out to be a very long chapter too, so that’s slowing things down a bit.
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