snippykins:

circumcisionrequired:

circumcisionisright:

sogladimcut:

Fuck. This cock, guys. The epitome of everything I love about this fucked up tribal ritual we do.
Pants suggest some blue collar guy, typical American dude. Maybe older, but could be in his 20s for all we know.
His cock is utterly dried out. The skin has an almost scaley appearance from years of friction, growing up in cheap tight briefs and Walmart denim.
By nature, this dick was born with a foreskin, a sheath that would have kept his dickhead pink and moist like a gumdrop, sensitive. He would have jerked off to the sensation of his own dickhead as it passed in and out of his own overgrown clitoral hood.
But he never knew that feeling, likely not even for a single day.
Like his father, uncles, brothers and other American men before him, he was strapped down and circumcised after birth. That skin was foreceably and irrevocably clamped and cut off of him from day 1.
A permanent member of an unspoken tribe.
He, just like me and most American men, think of jerking off as the feeling of my fist wrapped around my brown circ scar and pumping it against the flared ridge of my unnaturally swollen and bared cockhead. For him and me, sex is the feeling of a pussy or ass hole tight against our cockhead and useless remnant inner skin, not the feeling of our cock going in and out of itself. We fight for our orgasm, pounding our circ scars in and out until finally biology is coaxed into giving us that cum.
And we wouldn’t have it any other way. Circ put a spell on us, and to not be in the tribe is worse than any lack of skin, regardless of its supposed benefits. So we carry it on. Proud. We’re Cut. It’s an identity. And one we’ll proudly–for right or for wrong–make sure is sealed into the next generation as well.

Great caption. The first thing we felt was the cold steel of a clamp as it crushed and removed all of the extra skin. 

It’s the American way!

a quick ride in the circumstraint for a lifetime of having an american cock. 

no one wants to be the only stinky skin in the locker room

Gomco clamps are made out of chrome plated brass, not steel