Coming into the building, I realized it was the girls’ dormitory. Confused, I looked at the envelope with the keys and the contract papers again. But there it was all written, my name, address, and room number. Which also stood printed on the keys.

I entered my new student dorm room, relieved to have one at all. It was not easy to secure university accommodation these days, but this had been surprisingly simple. It wasn’t a very big room, and it was filled mostly by a floor mattress bed large enough for up to three individuals.

As I had unpacked my bag and taken a shower, I walked back into the bedroom area precisely as my two roommates came in – girls! By now I was really sure someone had made a mistake. They didn’t normally put girls and boys into the same dorm rooms. Maybe it had to do with my name, Kazumi, which could be taken for male or female? Or someone from the swim team had pulled some strings in my favour? I had won them the trophy recently, after all.

As I stood there in the room, naked, dripping, and separated from my towel by the presence of the two girls, all I could think of doing was to introduce myself politely.

My two roommates giggled slightly and also introduced themselves, namely as Michiko and Yui. Yui almost instantly started staring at my penis. Not something I appreciated, due to my lifelong issues with phimosis, and the fact that it disqualified me from ever visiting a public Sento bath, where a fully retracted foreskin was expected.

”So you are our phimo boy,” said Yui and looked me in the eye, at last. With a sheepish grin, but at least she was making eye contact. She was of a fairly robust stature, and curvy, wearing a conservative, white summer dress and white sandals. Michiko was tall and had an almost western figure and facial features. She wore ripped jeans and a polo shirt, with espandrillos.

”Phimo boy?” I asked, confused. I had never heard that before.

They both blushed somewhat, then told me that the university’s dormitory management considered guys with phimosis ”girls of honour”, as they posed no threat to female tenants, and my roommates had both ticked a box on their application form that said it was acceptable to them to have a phimo boy as a roommate. Finally, I knew why I had so easily acquired a dorm room! Still, I wasn’t sure if I should feel happy or humiliated.

After supper, as we were stretched out next to each other on the big floor mattress, ready to sleep, I asked if they were really sure it was ok to have a guy as a roommate. Yui stretched out a hand and put it on my chest. ”Of course, silly,” she said, ”We feel protected.” She was wearing a bright pink nightie with light blue kittens printed on it. Michiko was in a long, grey stonewashed t-shirt that went almost to her knees. Its print read ”Hollister Inc.” right across her breasts. I was simply wearing my flannel pajamas.

”So, what’s phimosis anyway?” asked Yui. Oh no, I thought. How embarrassing to have to explain it now! But Michiko came to my rescue and explained: ”It means his penis stays all wrapped up in the foreskin sleeve, so he can’t expose the tip. It also means there’s no way he could just jump one of us, because it would hurt him. And he most likely also can’t jerk off, for the same reason, so the bed sheets will stay clean.”

I had never felt this humiliated. I said nothing, and soon, we fell asleep.

During the night, I could feel Yui’s warm body shifting against me. She was breathing regularly, and I saw her long eyelashes in the moonlight. What a pretty face she had. She was fast asleep, but one of her hands was resting on my thigh. I felt a serious erection building and tried to wrestle it down with both hands by placing them on the front of my pajamas. But there was no way to make it go down again. Soon, the pain came that always accompanied my erections, making the opening of the foreskin feel like it was close to tearing as the glans pushed against it from the inside. I had no choice but to let my penis spring out of my pajamas, and to pull the skin forward. That always helped.

”That tight, huh?” whispered Michiko, who was half sitting up, watching me in the moonshine. I only saw her silhouette against the dusty window. Her long black hair shimmered in the moonlight. ”Come on, I know how to make it go asleep. I can do that for you.”  I gasped as a warm, slender hand took hold of my penis and pulled the skin sharply forward. Then she took hold of the long, overhanging skin in front of the glans and began squeezing it with quick, minuscule movements until I felt the semen rising, and inhaled sharply. She took that as a cue to quickly put my penis back into my pajamas, where I ejaculated all the way down my right pant leg. It was an incredible mess. I had never come like that before, but it did make my erection disappear, as Michiko had said.

She simply turned around and went to sleep.

This spectacle repeated itself every night now, and I began to look forward to it. Michiko really knew what she was doing, and she had clearly done this before. During the day though, she played as cool as a cucumber, as if these nocturnal handjobs were just a maintenance measure.

And maybe they were.

It became clear to me when I came home one evening and found her and Yui in the presence of a young, American woman in uniform, sitting on the floor, having tea. ”There he is,” said Michiko. I dropped my gym bag by the door. Michiko introduced the woman as Sergeant Baker, a medic from the airbase in Okinawa, and one of her instructors at the university she had befriended. She was perhaps in her late 20s, freckled, red-haired, and blue-eyed. She spoke very good Japanese.

”So,” she said in a tone that told me she was used to men doing as she said, put her cup aside, got up, and opened my fly. ”You’re a phimo boy, I heard. Now we can’t have that, can we? Totally ridiculous concept.” She shook her head as she held my penis in her hand, pulling on the foreskin’s long overhang. ”We’ll take care of this now, won’t be a minute. I sure do a lot of those.” And before I knew what was going on, she had set three numbing injections. ”Can you feel that?” she asked, pinching my foreskin. I shook my head.

Without another word, she clamped a hemostat along the upper side of my foreskin, which left a long, pale impression of almost an inch. Then she applied scissors along the very area, and the foreskin fell open on both sides of the glans. ”First time you see that glans, I bet,” said the lady. ”Snip, there goes the frenulum, too. Such a jiffy, these ops. Now the final step!” She pushed a silver bell over my glans, pulled the foreskin tightly over it, and screwed another bit onto it. My foreskin was all bunched up in the mechanism now, which was clamped onto my penis with a force that said ”this means business.” Then she quickly took to the untidy tangle of skin with a scalpel in one easy, circular sweep, and released the mechanism again.

Yui and Michiko watched mesmerized as my semi-erect, freshly circumcised penis came to rest on my testicles, which were bulging out of my jeans. The glans was shiny and blue-ish, and a cuff of pale, pink inner skin stretched halfway back the penis shaft. I was stunned to see it like that and wondered how far I’d be able to push the skin forward. ”Hands off, not done yet!” said the lady, and applied surgical glue. Then she set a few sutures, which I didn’t feel.

I appreciated the help Yui and Michiko had organized for me, even if it had probably been more to ensure Michiko got some sleep. I probably never would have managed to get this procedure organized by myself, because I was always so embarrassed about this condition, which no one ever talked about it.

Now I was only worried I might lose the room, as I was no longer a phimo boy.

The first night, I did awake from an erection, which pulled on the sutures. I found that it helped relieve tension to push the shaft skin forward from the base towards the glans. Michiko noticed my efforts and did the most remarkable thing: She quietly rose up, leaned in from her side of the bed, and planted her lips on top of the glans, so as to avoid contact with the sutures. Then she ran her tongue along the groove behind the glans. Back and forth, until I came. All of which must have landed in her hair, but she just quietly went back to sleep, as did my penis.

”Wow,” said Yui one morning, a few weeks on, as she was already sitting up in the morning sun in her kitten nightie. Michiko had left, and I was just coming awake, quite publicly sporting an enormous morning erection. ”You really have the biggest penis I’ve ever seen,” said Yui, reaching for it with her small, white hand. She could barely close her fingers around it. ”It’s so… three-tone!” she said. ”Bronze halfway up, pink cuff, shiny head. I’ve seen ice cream cones like that, you know.” And she leaned in close enough to make me wonder if she wanted to check its taste.

Yui ran her index finger along the rim of the glans. ”That looks so… sensitive,” she said, ”shouldn’t that be kept… moist?” Her nipples were standing up under her nightie. I liked her full curves and caught a glimpse of a carefully trimmed bikini zone as she adjusted her seating position. Her nightie had pulled up far enough for me to see everything, which she seemed to realize and enjoy. ”Perhaps,” she said and laid back on the mattress, ”just putting the tip in a little would be good for it? You know, just to the cut line, so as not to put any strain on it?” I followed her suggestion and very easily slipped the glans into her. She gasped and arched her back involuntarily, making her breasts bounce. ”Slowly,” she said, her eyes closed and breathing hard, ”… so big!” But she went on to wrap her legs around me and pulled me in, all the way. Eventually, she had forgotten all about ”just putting the tip in”, and I put her through orgasm after orgasm until I also came, with a vehemence that even eclipsed Michiko’s expert handjobs.

I don’t understand why they’d wanted a phimo boy in the first place.