Wanking Nightmare.
I posted this months ago... I now re-post with more scar detail.

I never realised that the 'cock rings' that I regularly saw in magazines (as a teenager) were adjustable so that they could be RELEASED.
You learn these things by experimenting...
Or as you could say: the hard way.

I was a Teenage lad (shortly after the blissfull discovery of the "orgasm") and as you do (tell me I'n not the only one) I slipped a napkin ring around my todger. You just gotta find out how it feels.... right?

Mid session, the stand-in napkin suddenly became too big for its ring... Being the smart lad I was, I reasoned "It'll go down if I get turned off".. so, 10 minutes of mentally picturing my grandmother naked should do the trick... but No! I was infact increasing in size.

I was HORRIFIED: I obviously harboured disturbing subconcious thoughts for my Gran. Subsequently I took no pleasure in the sudden and painful understanding of the bio-mechanics behind my now monsterous and painful hardon: so long as the napkin ring stayed... so would this monstrosity..

You know how a love-bite/hickey causes surface capilaries to burst, and make your skin go a blotchy red/purple? well... my Dick was VERY much like that... ALL OVER.

I was terrified, and in my moment of need turned to my trusty Minicraft Drill... Two cutting disks later, the pewter napkin ring was only HALF off!!

Cutting disks cause HEAT. Pewter is a fairly soft metal, so it doesn't actually cut well.
HEAT. did I mention that? HEAT!!! Heat in a metal ring, Painfully tight around my best friend.

Total
And
UTTER
Agony.

so... Water. More water. cut. Water. CUT. JEEEEZ.

You KNOW something's SERIOUSLY wrong when you're naked, on your knees with your cock in one hand, an electric cutting tool in the other, and wearing goggles.

So... cutting bit by bit I manage to make decent cut, gently working it until its wafer thin... progress. sweeet progress. And then it happened. The disk snagged, and bit in.

As if the cutting disk shattering and forcing wafer-thin shards of metal into my tadger wasn't enough, I then panicked and used pliers to rip the rest of the napkin ring open.

Firstly pinching skin between plier and inside of ring, and THEN badly cutting myself with the sharp edges.

Compounding my misery, pain and horror, my MUM came up to see why I was "making toys" at 2:00am on a school night.

Scars?

LMAO. let's just say "ribbed for her pleasure"

Apologies for bumps.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Fri 4 Feb 2005, 16:04, Reply)

I was hungover one morning
and decided to tell my parents about a friend of mine who had told us down the pub that he'd shaved off his pubes, to which my Mum replied
"Ooh that really itches that does"
That left a pretty fucking big scar I can tell you
( SauronWibble I'll hold it, you lick it..., Fri 4 Feb 2005, 12:52, Reply)

With the exception of a couple
most of those are just scratches.

Last january, I came off my scooter at 10mph (yes, really).
I was fine, until the scooter landed on my left leg, fragmenting the tibia from my knee (kneecap was split in half, one half went down, the other was discovered in my thigh) to my ankle.

After three weeks in the hospital, I now have a plate running down my leg, twelve pins holding all the splinters together, and a 'tibial pin' running down the middle of my tibia.
Oh, and as they couldn't close the wound afterwards, they had to move my calf muscle round to the front of my leg (strange thing is, I can make it pluse on command)
I can't straighten my leg now, can't walk without crutches, and am registered disabled.

Pics...(click for bigger)




Here's a short clip of the aforementioned pulsing of the leg (390kb .avi)

/edit
The pictures were taken a week after the operations, the .avi was 6 months later.
(chriswakey, Sat 5 Feb 2005, 14:50, Reply)

About the age of 8 I was playing at school
And some fool in the year below (I think) leaped on my back and i sort of swung round and my right arm connected with his face in some bizarre fashion.

The next thing I know he is lying on the floor screaming so hard it attracts the attention of a dinner lady. Who has to stop herself being sick. Blood pissing out of the kid's mouth and two front teeth missing.

Everyone (including me) looks for the teeth (why?) until something itches my hand, so i scratch the itch and there is blood everywhere. I trace where the blood is coming from....

"Miss" says I, with panic in my voice, "I've found his teeth"

They were sticking out of my arm, along with some sub-cutaneous fat and loads of blood. Of course at the dight of this I cried like the big jessie I am. And the dinner lady was finally sick.

Basically his teeth had gone through his bottom lip and into my arm, getting stuck and ripping out of his head. I have a 3 inch scar on the outside of my right forearm.

It got infected as hell, probably beacuse I always took the dressing off to show other kids at school!
(Super Oaf Petit filous?, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 11:09, Reply)

It's all Flash Gorden's fault you know
Upon witnessing the genius film that is Flash Gorden my brother and I decided to recreate the infamous woodbeast scene utilsing only the cushions from the sofa and our lunatic ginger tomcat. The cushions were set up so that the aforementioned cat was inside and was covered so that there were 5 places in which to stick your hand left. Now, if you touched the back end of the cat you had just enough time to get your hand out before the bastard got you good. Put your hand in by his face and you acquire scars like those running down my fingers, that are still plainly visible nearly 13 years later. This cat has also scarred my upper arms, nearly pulled my Mum's lip off once and used to attack all small children that went near him. I do love him though.





He am ginger.
(Man Worm, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 16:46, Reply)

Slight facial burnage
due to bobbing for chips in the Falklands
(Sex Panther, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 11:19, Reply)

This put me off girls for life.
So I'm 12 years old, snogging with my first girlfriend behind the gym after school. She is quite a bit taller than me and I am getting a bit of a crick in my neck from having to crane upwards. I come up for air and a stretch and realise my shoe is undone. I bend down to tie it up and we continue chatting about whether we should go and hang around by the swings or whether we should go back to hers for some serious snogging. I tell her that we should go down to the park and she can push me on the swing for a bit (I was little, and she was a lot more muscly than I).

She gets faux-indignant at this reversal of the usual male/female roles and "taps" (her words) me on the forehead, causing me to overbalance and put my hand behind me, right on to a broken bottle, which slices a 2inch gash in my hand, severing the nerves to two fingers and the tendon to one.
I stare down at the blood pulsing from this gaping wound and cry, "you BITCH, it's over!" before running across the road in a bit of a blind panic and into a shop that sold venetian blinds (and was conveniently owned by my dad's mate).

Cue Dad rushing home from work to take me to hospital and me having to get undressed in front of a male nurse and getting a bit of a stiffy.
Ah yes. That was the day I first started to realise I might be a bummer.

Anyway - I ended the evening by having surgery on my hand to reattach the tendon and nerves. Didn't get much sleep though as
1) I was slightly concerned about my gay indicating erection
2) the kid in the bed next to me was screaming all night due to the pain caused by his having no legs anymore (he and his scally friends had been playing on the merseyrail line and his legs had been sliced off by a passing train. Ouch).

Ended up with a 2 inch scar along the right palm and my hand was wrapped up in bandages for weeks. So not only was I gradually realising I fancied boys, I couldn't even wank to celebrate. Arse.
(pcloon, Wed 9 Feb 2005, 14:45, Reply)

Dead People Arse Rot
Being a medical student, part of our 1st year course was anatomy through disection. This involves cutting up dead people who have been preserved in formaldehyde for over a year. For this lovely task we have to purchase a 'disection kit' which has scalpels and other pokey bits for sticking in orifices. One day, after an anatomy session, i was tidying my very small room in halls which was also occupied by several people playing tekken 3 (as was the style of the time). I sat down on my bed to join in, only to stand up again very swiftly in intense pain.
Yes, i had sat on my disection kit and a scalpel had pierced my buttocks.
To make things all the more glorious, it wasn't a new blade and still had dead people goo and some suspicious grainy bits on it. This all went about an inch and a half into my arse.
It bled.
Much hilarity ensued. I had to get one of my friends to put a stitch in it but, upon the nightly jappery in good ol' Glasgow University Union, I was asked by almost everyone there if my ass was still bleeding. Which it was. I was also asked what it felt to have a dead person's 'bits' enter my arse. Hoorah!
It kind of went a bit funny and pussey after a while but has left me a really rather pathetic inch long scar on my right buttock. I still have the pants i was wearing - they have a little hole where the scalpel took my buttockular virginity. Whoop!
( MrUppity, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 19:05, Reply)

Paper cut

(Felchman, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 3:16, Reply)

Slit Wrists Anyone...?
I have a big scar on my left wrist.

One night I was at home bored and in the process of getting pissed. My parents were upstairs when I heard a bit of shouting... "great" I thought, "they're having another benny". Half an hour later I hear screams and my mum shouting rape. In a drunken rage I grabbed a knife and legged it up the stairs hell-bent on killing my dad.

In the scuffle that ensued, my parents dived on me and my wrist got slit while the knife was being forceably remvoved from my hand.

Turns out they thought I had gone out and were trying out some roleplaying games to spice up their sex life.

As you can imagine this little adventure left me with more than just physical scars.
( andy206, Mon 7 Feb 2005, 11:04, Reply)

Once I was really down
And scratched "I'm a cunt" into my arm with a drawing pin. I didn't think it would scar.
(NPC, Wed 9 Feb 2005, 20:05, Reply)

That'll learn me, fucking show-off...
Back in the day, when I was a wee lad of four years of age, I was joyfully playing in the bath. My mother had some of her lady friends round of tea and whatever when one of them spotted me bathing (I washed with the door open in case I, uh... drowned or something). Said lady then called lady companions to come see - I was good looking chap, so I was, and they all swooned at my cuteness.

It was at this point I thought I'd give them a treat. I hopped out the bath in all my four year old glory (it may have resembled an acorn back then, but WHAT an acorn!) and began to tap my foot.

Have you guessed yet? Oh yes, I began to dance. Grooving to the music in my head, I was the shit. Throwing in a dramatic twirl here and there and seductively shaking my backside, I even used a little pot as a prop to cover my manhood during my performance. These women were close to fainting.

And then came the finale... which was a little anti-climatic. I was thinking of spinning round whilst removing the pot and falling into some sort of "jazz hands" position, I hadn't quite decided as I was improvising. However, the actual ending and desired effect of my performance was greatly different to which I intended... I achieved the spin, but in mid-spin it began to go wrong. As everything fell into slow motion and looks of horror swept across the faces of my audience, I fell and slammed my chin on the edge of the bath. The impact caused my chin to split and blood to spray across the bath and myself.

And so there I laid... a bloody naked mess, a little pot rolling out my hand and stopping at the feet of my spectators.

The next thing I remember was arriving through the doors in hospital. My mother quickly took me (which was good) but didn't think to dress me (which was bad). Cue much worried/confused/disturbed glances as a pissed off, naked, blood-covered four year old boy staggered towards the emergency room.

I try to cover my scar with a beard to avoid people asking me "how did you get that then?" Not wanting to tell, my usual response is "Uh... I got stabbed."
(bunny_333, Mon 7 Feb 2005, 9:39, Reply)

"I slipped on the soap", and other likely excuses...
When I was at an all girls boarding school, there was this stupid rule that you were only allowed 10mins for a bath. (You try running the water, washing your hair and shaving your legs, etc all in under 10mins!).

Anyway, (I know this is every mans fantasy), but we came up with the idea of sharing baths to get twice the time. Seriously, that was the only reason - at least with the girls I bathed with.

Anyway, there we were, two of us in the bath, and I was just about to get out. I was in a half-standing position when the other girl suddenly slips and comes rushing towards me quickly followed by a tidal wave of water. She pushes me over and the top of my arse crack comes into contact with the archaic rusty tap.

Anyway to cut a long story short:
1. Lots of blood in the water and everywhere.
2. Me running around panicked, naked and bleeding.
3. Her running around panicked and naked asking if I'm okay.
4. Lots of girly screaming.
5. Me refusing to see the nurse out of sheer embarrassment.
6. More girly screaming and sillyness.
7. Major cleanup and coverup job to avoid having to tell the nurse.

I still have emotional scars, but it's a little difficult to check if I have a physical one. Think I'd need a periscope or something...
(Peelmytangerines, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 18:32, Reply)

More...
I have some pictures of this, but they're rubbish.

Basically I managed to get hot oil all over my hand while cooking one night, it didn't hurt too much at the time, and I went on to finish cooking and eat the meal I'd made, but come bed time it was hurting like buggery.

I was lying in bed literally not able to lie still because it hurt so much, so I went and got a big pan from the kitchen and filled it with ice water, put it by the side of my bed and lay there with my hand dangling into this pot. At some point I thought "Hold on, I probably shouldn't fall asleep with my hand in a pot of water, if urban myths have taught me anything" so I lay there in pain the whole night.

At some point I fell asleep, woke up in the morning, my hand is all red and most of it is blistered. I go into lectures, and have an electronics practical, during which I manage to drop a heated soldering iron onto my hand, which hurt a lot (as you might expect). Then my bastard of a mate notices my moleste blisters and comes up with a great plan, while our lecturer goes out for a cigarette break, I get pinned down, probes attached to either end of the biggest blister, and about 40 volts run through it.

Theres nothing quite like the feeling of your own puss boiling beneath your skin before it bursts out in a feiry torrent of yellow disgustingness. But most of it went on my mate. Ha, I win, in the most minor way possible.

That was a few months ago, I still have skin discolouration where the exploding blister was.
(Jon Norris, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 17:31, Reply)

no little finger
once, when i was five my brother who was 4 decided it would be funny to chop the end off of my finger. with a meat cleaver. and then spray my dad's deoderant all over it. cue me crying my eyes out like fuck, brother with a very sore arse and a worried paramedic trying to find the top of my finger. they found it in a sippy cup in my bro's room. next week i pushed him down the stairs and he lost 2 front teeth


no apologies for lenth
(beast on toast has xpango=> http://www.xpango.com?ref=90520974, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 15:15, Reply)

Oh.....the memory...the excruciating memory...
My ex-girlfriend and I, a year or so ago, had decided that in the absence of my family (i'm only 18) at the end of summer, we would have the house to ourselves...yes...come to your own conclusions...Anyhoo, events found me being..."rewarded"...for being so romantic. My ex wore earrings, and at one point during the proceedings, one of these got caught on my fly, which neither of us noticed...until she moved to pull her head away...rather sharply...for an undisclosed reason...ahem. This tore half her earlobe away (leaving her with a fairly impressive scar actually...), but also causing her to clamp down her teeth...

Every girlfriend since has asked about how i got my scar, and for months afterwards I couldn't look at a pair of earrings...

I'm sure you can understand why I'm not posting a pic...
( Mr.Ons knows you can hear him, Earthmen., Sun 6 Feb 2005, 9:05, Reply)

I have a scar on each wrist
in the same position as crucifix nail scars.

I got mine from falling off my bike

I doubt Jesus did.
( Devil Duck: ( ' )< and his cunning stunts, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 22:57, Reply)

Oh bollocks...
seems like there's quite a lot of motorbike-related twattery here and for good reason: you can seriously hurt yourself on the things... especially when you spazz out at low speed and wrap your back around a lamp post.

Lower pic is from where they opened me up to fix an unstable spinal fracture by fusing three vertebrae back together with plates, screws and a bone graft. For some reason I'm not paraplegic- the consultant doesn't know why.
Upper pic is back of my head from last week- I got a pressure sore from being on a spinal board for 12 hours at the Royal London Hospital after crashing aforementioned bike, and then the dumbarse nurses not paying any attention when I suggested that the reason it smelt like rotting meat was septicaemia setting in... This was last October! Fuck knows when it will heal, and what sort of scar it will leave if and when it does. Granuflex dressings make it smell like unwashed arse as well.
Which is nice...
( PastorSauce : easy on the anchovies..., Fri 4 Feb 2005, 20:50, Reply)

I did this falling off a roundabout in the park...
...when I was 35.

Ended up with a Trimalleolar Fracture of the Fibula and had to have a steel plate put in my leg which is still there.

Of course, all the doctors and nurses took the piss in the nicest possible way.

The bastards.


( the RAND corporation a.k.a. Kevin Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 20:05, Reply)

I have a scar on my finger
where they took out my appendix - the hard way
(squonk, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 18:48, Reply)

Man whore loses ear
I fell off a bicycle in Brighton after a weekend of drinking, and the bottom of my ear came off.
I cycled to the hospital to have it sewn back on, which the lovely Doctor did very well but she accidentally stuck the needle in her hand, which they hate apparantly. She asked me my job and I said I was a high class male prostitute. The Doctor flipped out saying I could have given her the AIDS, and I told her I was only joking, that I worked in an office.
She got her revenge though - when I returned 2 weeks later to have my stitches out the nurse read my medical records and asked sympathetically "so how long have you been working the streets?". Those records are with me for life.
To cap it off my bike was nicked from outside casualty.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 16:14, Reply)

Todger
I have a scar on the end of my manhood. I had to have a biopsy for a (non-STD!) skin problem last year. There were stitches and, inevitably, scarring.

The oddest part was having to apply some very strong local anaesthetic an hour beforehand and then walking to the hospital. Those of you with the relevant equipment should try it. A numb todger makes you feel like you are not wearing a single thing below the waist. I had to keep checking that I wasn't giving the world a free show.

So, not much of a story, definitely NO picture and very few witnesses. Even my boyfriend hasn't seen the scar properly as he's short-sighted.
(BearWithLittleBrain, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 14:06, Reply)

Several, mainly through work but this is the best

Not a good photo but I have a seven inch scar on the inside of my left knee.
One afternoo, when I was 18, my brother and 4 of my mates where at a beach called Fowlers Bay near the South Australian/Western Australian border doing some fishing. As we had consumed a large amount of beer and local homegrown cannabis, everything was very amusing. I went for a pee behind a tree and got bitten on the knee by a brown snake (quite venomous). Everybody, including me thought this was hysterically funny, with lots of "lucky it didn't bite your old fella" comments.
Anyway, after about 15 minutes I started feeling quite ill. Luckily, my brother, reminded us of his vast medical experience (he was a fitter and turner apprentice but at the time it made sense)and said that I required immediate medical intervention. This involved taking a filthy fishing knife and removing the area of flesh that had sustained the bite.
This he did, quite skillfully, so that I was minus a lump of flesh about 7 inches long by 1/2 inch wide by 1/2 inch deep. We were all impressed that he had saved my life until someone pointed out that I was bleeding rather a lot. The nearest place with any medical facilities was Penong, about 65 kilometres away.
The doctor that stitched it up, kept smiling to himself. When I asked why, he showed me that the bite was actually about an inch lower than where my brother had cut and that the snake had actually just scratched me without getting any venom in the wound. It took 4 courses of antibiotics and 15 months to actually heal up.
(peewee13, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 12:08, Reply)

Heeeeed!
When I was a nipper, only about 3 months old, my elder brother still hadn't got over the fact there was someone else to share all the attention with. Mum says there was no way he could of been aiming for me but the fish knife he threw (yes, my mum let my 2 year old brother play with a fish knife) hit me all the same and embedded itself in my baby soft skull. Mum was to scared to remove it so she took me down to casualty looking like a demented Teletubby proto-type. There is a photo somewhere but I'm still a little disturbed that my mum took time to find the camera before taking me to the hospital.
(Let's all have an asbo, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 11:05, Reply)

I have
a crescent shaped scar on my right hand gained during a water fight.

Being the smart arse that I am, I thought I'd gain a tactical advantage by going up to my bedroom window to rain, 'watery death' from above on the poor saps below. Unfortunately, my bedroom was still in reach of the water-combatants below. I had to be quick.
In my head, the plan was:-
Open window
shove hand out
throw water balloons
bring hand in
close window
laugh at soggy friends below.

Unfortunately it turned out like this:-
Open window
shove hand out
throw water balloons
close window on my hand
panic
try and retrieve hand without first opening window
scrape a 2*0.5 inch strip of skin off my hand
panic some more
bleed.
( fishsticks, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 10:48, Reply)

From an Armed Robbery
Got 13 stiches in the lovely shape of an "L" on the plam of my left hand when I got stabbed in an Armed Robbery. Severed tendon, lots of blood. F**ker locked me up whist the waiting for he time lock to go off.

Police caught him 2 years later and he got 18 years for the attack on me...

Justice - nice!
(Flawed, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 10:38, Reply)

Don't play with marbles on the stairs...
... and if you absolutely must, don't act like a petulant, tubby little shit when your mum tells you that you can't have any sweets.

And if you really, really must act like a petulant, tubby little shit, don't stomp up and down the marble covered stairs...

Cue much slippage, tumbling, and a nasty case of skull/corner of a radiator interface.

Much blood and a trip to the hospital later leaves you with a nice scar on the top of your head, and getting some sweeties for being such a brave little boy - result!

I was only ickle at the time....
(lawofnations, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 10:12, Reply)

I've got a 2" scar on my arm from getting stuck ina giant fibreglass clowns mouth!
12 years old, on holiday with my parents in the isle of wight. We were having a day out at 'Black Gang Chine'(a dodgy second rate, council estate esque theme park, pirates and that kind of shite). We got to a kids play area where one of the bits of kit was a giant clowns head with a slide inside and a tube for a mouth, I tried crawling through the tube but got stuck half way and had to be pulled free by my dad and 2 passers by and as i was dragged out I cut my arm on an exposed screw head. I think that's the reason I hate clowns so much!
( M@rkoni, Wed 9 Feb 2005, 13:34, Reply)

ear
After seeing some nasty little scouse chav gang beating up an 70 year old man, I decided that the 200 people queuing for a taxi and watching with only a passing interest, that I should do something about it. Valant hero that I am, the old boy managed to get in his cab and left sharpish. The gang turned their attention on me. One of them bit my ear almost fully off (i didnt notice in the adreneline rush) and 20 hours , 3 hospitals, 3 consultants and 18 stitches later, my ear is back to normal apart from the 2 inch scar where it was sewn back on. I eventually got my balance back later.

To the 200 supposed adult liverpudlians who stood in the taxi queue and watched all of this (did I mention my gf got a beating also) happen alongside that big hotel in town, the one that was on the telly series - fuck you. It took a Manc to stop a crowd of your scummy little children from beating one of your grandparents up. And you wonder why everyone hates you? Your children are scum and you let them beat your elderly.

Rant over. Sorry to all the law abiding scousers who would have helped me out. Introduce yourselves, restore some faith.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Wed 9 Feb 2005, 0:37, Reply)

...
I have a nice scar on my cheek from running into a screen door.

Sorry for the lack of length or content.
(icouldbeahero, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 20:29, Reply)