by: Michael Shields
A transcript of an interview with a man who as a boy, had his dick trapped in a zipper…
MS: Let me begin by thanking you for taking the time to discuss what many would consider to be a hyper-sensitive issue. Our privates are usually just that, private, and accessible to only a select few. So, thank you.
Anonymous: No problem. I’m happy to talk about it. Mostly in hoping that someone can learn from my experience. And thank you for allowing me to discuss this under the veil of anonymity. I have been the butt of enough dick jokes to last a lifetime. I have tried to keep this story close to the hip since passing into adulthood. It’s an extremely embarrassing tale, to say the least.
MS: Of course. I am sure there are many men out there who have experienced similar traumas, and it certainly helps to know you’re not alone. But let’s get down to business. What happened to your dick?
Anonymous: Sure. Well, I was a kid, and I was getting ready for bed…
MS: (over) How old were you at the time?
Anonymous: Oh sorry. I was seven. And while I was getting ready for bed I was changing into the pajamas I wore every night. I remember them so vividly, presumably because of what happened, but they were a pair of powder blue pajamas, soft and worn to the touch. They were the type that you slid your feet into, with footsies, you know? And they had a zipper that started near the ankle of one leg and came up and across the crotch and through the middle of your chest to your collar. Like a union suit, or a onesie. Man, I loved those pajamas. Felt sort of like I was a superhero or something in it. It was what I donned at night when the villains were out. In case anything bad happened, I was ready.
MS: Oh, I know the type. I had a pair myself. Millenium Falcons all over it. I kind of wish I still had ‘em. But, I think I see where you are leading us here with this story and it is making me all kinds of nervous. Just thinking out loud here, the fact that you were seven suggests that you put these pajamas on many a time yourself?
Anonymous : Absolutely. Every night. But this night I was having trouble with the zipper. It was around knee level and was being incredibly stubborn. It just wouldn’t budge. My sister was around. She was five years older than me. In many ways you could say that she raised me. She was just always there when I needed her, as she was that evening. Well, she heard me struggling with the zipper and she came over to give me a hand. And when…
MS: (over) I can hardly breathe…
Anonymous: Yeah, brace yourself. She tugged on the zipper with all her might, but she was evidently oblivious to her surroundings in that she didn’t notice, nor did I for that matter, that my dick wasn’t properly tucked away. Poor guy was right in the middle of the train tracks if you know what I mean.
MS: I do indeed. So the zipper went over your dick?
Anonymous: Yup. Fastened my dick into the teeth of that zipper like a meaty paw in a bear-trap. I looked down and my dick was poking out of my pajamas. Like an earthworm sticking its head out of the ground during a rainfall.
MS: Fucking A! Your own personal “Frank and Beans!” moment. But wait, logistically speaking, how does that even happen?
Anonymous: Just the Frank in this case. But yeah, this is the part that confounds me. While there is certainly no snake making a home of my pants, it’s not like I have been cursed with a small stack of pennies. I hold my own in the locker room, and I haven’t had any complaints in the bedroom. Well, not too many at least. But the way in which the zipper traversed up and over my dick was like a piece of lint being stuck in your jacket’s zipper. I mean, I know a young man’s dick is merely the bud before it flowers, but the zipper flowed over it like water through sand. I think of it often, and I cannot really nail down exactly the how, but before I realized it the zipper’s pull tab was up about breast high, and the zipper’s teeth where choking out my dick with all their might. Attacking the little guy on two fronts, really dug in.
MS: How bad did it hurt? I can’t imagine.
Anonymous: This is where things get kind of weird, and no one really believes me when I say this, but it hardly hurt at all. Sure, I was freaking out, but that was more because that’s what you do when your dick has been seized by little metal teeth. But the pain wasn’t really that bad, until extraction of course.
Anonymous: Yeah, well my dick isn’t still stuck in the pajamas of course. So, my sister and I obviously begin screaming and yelling for help. We had to get grown-ups involved on this project, and fast. We weren’t physically or emotionally equipped to deal with this anatomical complication. So the rest of the family comes storming in, my parents and my two brothers. The thing is, as funny as the circumstance could be to an onlooker — no one, and I mean no one laughed when they walked in. When someone’s dick is stuck in a compromising situation things are dead serious. Even my older brother, who was only about eight at the time, knew the seriousness of the situation. I can still see his jaw dropped, and his eyes shimmering with fear. You know, that’s when you realize you’re in an awful predicament, not by accessing the situation you’re in and determining the level of adversity you’re up against yourself, but by the amount of horror you see in the eyes of the witnesses. Man, I will never forget the look on my brother’s face.
But anyways…so, my father takes a knee and really gets in there to investigate. My father is a rather analytical man, an engineer by trade. And this was his son’s dick so he wasn’t fucking around. He took his time with the examination, his head bobbing around my dick like it wasn’t even there. I like to imagine him with a magnifying glass but that wasn’t the case. Either way, he didn’t simply give the situation a once-over. He handled it like a detective does a crime scene. But eventually you could see the moment he succumbed to frustration, when he realized there was only one option.
MS: What option? What did he decide to do?
Anonymous: “Like a band-aid,” he said subtly to my mother, with a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I just have to pull it apart.” He then looked me in the eyes, sternly yet reassuringly. “Son, everything is going to be fine,” he said. “I need you to know that. But what I am going to do next is going to hurt a little bit. I am going to pull the zipper on both sides and before you know it all this will be over. Just try not to worry, and above all else Do. Not Move.”
MS: Pull the zipper on both sides? Like when you pop open a bag of chips?
Anonymous: Exactly. Just like that. So he grabbed my pajamas, bunching the material on both sides of the zipper into his fist and then he counted down. “Ok ready? 3….2….RRRIIIPPPP!”
MS: Wait…he went on two?
Anonymous: Yup. The fucker went on two. But that was probably the right move. I was in quite a state. But, the good news is, it worked. The zipper peeled right off.
MS: Now that had to hurt?
Anonymous : Oh yeah. A whole lot. In fact, there was a fair amount of blood trickling off my dick at first, from where the teeth had bitten into the flesh. My mother kept a warm paper towel on my dick for some time after, and cleaned the wounds as best she could.
MS: Is there any scarring? Any adverse affects from the incident?
Anonymous: Fortunately, there is no physical scarring of any kind. And functionality hasn’t been affected. In fact, about a week after it happened you couldn’t even tell my zipper tried to eat my dick. But mentally, I have never been the same. Any time I am handling the equipment down below it’s with kid gloves. Walking on eggshells hardly describes my approach. It’s like in the movies when someone is carrying a highly explosive and incredibly sensitive bomb – that’s how I live my life when it comes to my dick. I am not putting him through anything like that again. Never.
MS: I think we may be burying the lead a bit here. If I may, I’d like to return to the moment of impact. At the end of the day what happened was your sister ran a zipper over your dick. She was, if you think about it, the responsible party. Does she feel bad?
Anonymous: Hahahaha (laughter). True, many others see it that way. But I have no doubt she didn’t intend to zip my dick. And yes, she did feel bad at first. She could hardly sleep that night and was super sweet to me for months after. Literally months. But soon that faded. Now anytime she is drunk and I am around — guess who has a funny story to tell about her little brother? It’s getting to the point where I don’t like to be in her vicinity when she is around alcohol and people who haven’t heard my dick story. She thinks it’s hilarious.
MS: So, metaphorically speaking, she is still running a zipper across your dick.
Anonymous: Hard and fast you might say. Hard and fast.