Ah yes and you might have noticed already that the header of this Blog has switched from "The War on Foreskin" to reference instead the Glans Liberation Front. I consider this move to make myself appeal a little more prepuce-friendly and also less likely to scare away first time readers, or at least that is my hope.

In addition it has been brought to my attention that I have neglected to post up my email address on this blog's main body. You could previously find it in the comments section but if you can not be bothered then here you are: icanseethehillsfromhere[AT]gmail.com

Today's efforts left a bad taste in my mouth.

The content of my fantasies upon this occasion involved Satyrs, a collaborative effort was made during an online RP and considering the insatiable nature of such creatures lasted for quite an extended length of time.

Probably as a consequence of this I experienced what is undoubtably the most messy orgasm I have ever experienced and probably amongst the most pleasurable. The force of my climax was such that I actually spurted into my gasping mouth. This was an unprecedented occurance and caused me quite some shock.

For some reason I had always imagined semen would taste sugary, due to the fuel needed to spurr on the sperm cells. For those interested in reality it is actually like a bizarre mixture of egg white and salty water, that is not a fully adequete description as it is pretty hard to put into words though. It left a rather potent aftertaste as well and I was left with the rather unpleasant thought of my spermatosa swimming into my digestive tract.

Besides from the accidental self-sample I also spurted far more than I can remember having done previously, my chest was drenched in my seed and my mind totally blown.

My thanks to Dr Beauge.

I impressed a doctor with my penis today.

Unfortunately this was not from its size but I like to think that it was a reward for all my hard work: he commented approvingly on how successfully I had banished my phimosis!

Allow me to set the scene: my mother booked a doctor's appointment for me to visit him and discuss my forthcoming hydrocele operation and ensure that I was fully satisfied with the arrangements, location and doctor in charge. In the interim time between her booking it and it occuring however the entire Beaugebloggery period elapsed and I made some discoveries I was worried about.

Firstly there were the pearly white papules but I was none to worried about them (neither was the doctor although he did correct my pronounciation from "Pay-Puools" to "PAPuools") but I also observed an elevated purple mark running along the top of my coronal rim in addition to some miniscule white spots on the top of my glans that seemed to be spreading.

I was concerned with these and feared deeply that the former might be some malicious yet unknown condition, or possibly even cancer (just to put things into perspective it is over one hundred times more likely for a man to get cancer of the breast than cancer of the penis but all the same I was not willing to take my chances) which would result in a circumcision. The latter I suspected to be a case of progressive BXO, which could also result in a circumcision.

Before going to the doctor's surgery I bathed (they have a bad enough job as it is without having whiffy genitals smelling of anal migration) and considered my earlier post on this blog, imagining how horrendous life would be if such a large source of pleasure was to end. Yet worse if it was cancer of the glans they might have been forced to remove that entire organ, a consideration which I could barely stand to contemplate. Furthermore considering the effort I had taken in evading all forms of preputal surgery the notion of requiring it amputated completely was made even less appealing by the realisation that all of my work utilising the Beauge Method would have been a mere waste of time and unworth the effort.

So with some tension in the air I strolled into the General Practioners office and asked the receptionist to check me in. She informed me that I was meant to be there an hour earlier and that I had missed my appointment, instructing me to sit down and await her checking of whether the doctor was still present.

This was something of a Twilight Zone moment for me because I had seen the appointment slip with my own eyes and it had clearly been marked 6.30 not 5.30. All the same I took my seat and was highly relieved when Dr. K. himself called me in.

I told him about my personal curing of my phimotic condition (not in any detail, I just informed him that it had happened really) and he cancelled the prepuplastory and then I informed him about my findings. He took me through to the inspection room after picking up a rather unflattering magnifying glass (although I swiftly realised the implication was not that I had a micro-penis that required visual amplification to be found but that he required a closer look to ascertain what certain growths or protusions might be).

I lay down and removed my jeans and retracted myself with reasonable ease, resulting in him remarking words to the effect that it was clear my phimosis was gone and the method had acheived its aim. I felt oddly proud at that point and on the way home I considered having "Approved by the NHS" tatooed along my shaft. So there we have it, doctor's approval of my victory over the phimotic state that had plauged me.

He informed me that the white spots coating the rim were indeed papules which I basically knew anyway but having it confirmed was nice. I pointed out the white spots and they were examined along with the purple protrusion.

He dispelled my concern in a few sentances saying that such irregularities are common and that they were unworthy or deserving of any form of treatment and would cause me no further harm whatsoever. This knowledge brought me a substantial level of relief as did the information provided on the doctor responsible for my hydrocele operation who apparently would do a good job and had been around for quite a while.

He also commented just after I redressed that my hydrocele was fairly substantial, I was uncertain whether to be embarassed or proud.

All in all it was a considerably different affair to the previous visit to the GP's and filled me with joy and relief. Now all I have is a single operation upon my testicles to rid me of the hydrocele (apparently medically speaking it was a very minor thing requiring only a very light anaesthetic although despite saying this Dr. K. acknowledged that it probably seemed a rather more major affair to me, which was a correct assertation) and then my genitals, the unluckiest pair ever, will provide me no discontent whatsoever.

Joy.

Foreskin: 2 Circumfetishists: 0

Today was quite a stunner.

As I might have mentioned prior to my usage of the Beauge Method and while my phimosis reigned my urethral opening was barely ever exposed (in fact to do so caused me minor pain) and stimulation consisted of just rubbing the skin horizontally along the glans my orgasmic flow consisted of a fast stream, or at best a forceful river.

Now however the appropriate comparison is probably a geyser.

The first round of self-abuse (don't you just love the Irish? They have the best phrases for everything...) was astounding enough and some heavy coronal rim stim resulted in a massive spurt that struck the underside of my jaw. I found that amazing enough and it was already a record so when it came to my seconds I doubted immensely that further acheivements would be accomplished. How wrong I was...

My second spurt actually coated my chin, a pretty astounding occurance as far as I was concerned. My musing of whether or not to leave it there was cut short by the consideration of the possibility of a There's Something About Mary style situation. All the same I considered it quite an acheivement.

Oddly though I find the spurt a rather less sensual occurance that when the skin coats the head. Eminantly preferable is to cup it near to the opening when the heat, force and texture resultant from orgasm strike can be felt in its full glory and experienced totally through so sensitive an area. However spurting is somewhat more satisfying in its own way: it serves as more of a -release-. So as both are brilliant in their own way I have discovered the optimum is to allow a full spurt at first while fully retracted and then to return the foreskin around the head and allow the rest to pump along it in the highly pleasurable fashion which I am accustomed to.

And to think that others take voyages for the purpose of self-discovery! I have found out all this about myself in bed and seated upon a toilet...

I am done!

Exams were finished on Friday which was immensely, intensely and incredibly satisfying. Very pleased indeed.

Sorry for not posting before but on Saturday I was sleeping for pretty much all of the day, on Sunday my sister returned home from university and posed quite a distraction and I also had to go to a barbeque which I spent with a pleasant mixture of smoke from charred animal carcasses and pure pollen pouring up my nostrils.

The perfect day for a vegetarian hay-fever sufferer huh?

On Monday I went on an induction course where we were supposed to be prepared for the Sixth Form, apparently. It started off with a powerpoint that firstly quoted the mass-murderer Che Guevara in a fashion it expected to be inspirational, then followed this up with far too many quotes from Jesus and then to back up the most famous Jew in history it used the words of the rabid anti-semite Henry Ford.

No mention was made of Jesus' missing prepuce.

After that travesty we had some team work exercises such as climbing a wall together, making a water-funnel and other such activities which were fairly enjoyable if somewhat mindless. After that we went to a Mariner's Base where some people who were not members of the God Squad actually did really enjoyable things with us. We built a raft that (through some merry miracle) was the only one to actually be lakeworthy and then went into concrete caves which were so tight they lead me to suspect that they were actually a subtle penile empathy class. All the same it was immense fun.

Once that was through we had a night walk and afterwards I expected to rest but instead we were forced to endure further indoctrination, bombed out on pollen, heavily fatigued and wondering why we were all being forced to have a one-way conversation with a being as real as the tooth fairy I had possibly the most miserable half-hour of my existance thus far.

The day after there was debating and bike riding which were great and then a mass, which was not.

But now the part you actually care about: penile progress. Well today it is good news, I have started encorporating in the full gliding motion to highly pleasurable effect. Previously I had only been retracting about 3/4 the way down the glans but now I am pulling back totally and have observed a good deal of pleasure is to be found from stimulation of the coronal rim.

As for climaxes well I have noted that retracting fully during the build-up directly before orgasm followed by pushing the skin up around the crown during the first spurt has spectacular results and almost caused me to hit my neck with the resulting deluge.

In short great fun, things are still stiff and tight at times but overall things seem to be improving greatly.

Sorry about the neglect displayed to my blog of late.

This is partially because of the exams that seem to be bombarding me at present and partially because I seem to be in the ultimate stages of the transition from sufferer to ex-sufferer.

I assure you that as soon as I get the time I shall spend more time posting. Now that it seems to have cleared up mostly what exactly I post is something I shall have to decide upon at a later stage.