Sunday, November 8, 2015

Hazing in a rugby team



For the last couple of years we have all watched hazing in sports finally come into focus. The antics that have for so long gone on behind closed doors, and that have been dismissed by most as "boys will be boys," are finally starting to get the serious attention from sports administrators and the public that it deserves and that its victims need.
What isn't being talked about much is the elephant in the room, the issue that most people are thinking about when they hear about stories of what sports teams are doing to one another usually at night behind those closed doors: Both latent homosexuality and homophobia are playing a huge role in the hazing abuse our kids are experiencing, and our societal standards that dictate what a "real man" is are to blame.
Hazing is, for practical purposes, coercing or forcing younger athletes or students to do embarrassing things for the right to be a part of the group. Hazing can range from seemingly innocuous acts like wearing a dunce cap or eating a raw egg to dangerous or life-threatening things like drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, branding, or crazy stunts that involve water, fire or oncoming traffic. Hazing is against the policy of most colleges, and anti-hazing statutes exist in 38 states.
The Web site Badjocks.com has played a huge role in forcing the public and sports teams and leagues to start having frank discussions about hazing. And while the few dozen incidents they and other media outlets have reported are an improvement over the dearth of reports just three years ago, the number of hazing incidents that has come to public light pales in comparison to the actual number that is happening at high schools, colleges and on professional teams around the country. In fact, an Alfred University study said that 80 percent of college athletes had been hazed.
Make no mistake about it – hazing is largely about sexuality, from two different angles. First is the notion of making someone submissive to prove your own masculinity. Whether it's sodomizing them or making them wear women's panties, the notion of forcing younger players to submit to team veterans comes right out of the handbook of anti-gay stereotypes.
Many of the acts that younger players are submitted to are also homoerotic or homosexual. Licking each other's bodies, simulating sex acts, forced sodomy with various objects – these acts work on two levels. First, they reinforce the notion that same-sex affection is weaker; the subjected men are rarely "hazed" with forced affection from someone of the opposite sex. Second, they serve to satisfy the latent homosexuality of many of the players involved.
While some may try to diminish the role of homosexuality in hazing, it can't be ignored. Badjocks.com says that the most common reported hazing incident among high school students is sodomy with fingers or other objects.
"As a way of welcoming you to the team, my associates and I would like to give you your first proctology exam!" Badjocks.com jokes.
I don't care how you slice it, there has to be some desire to sodomize the victim if you're willing to go that far with other people watching! Like rape (which it is), I find hazing of this kind to be not only an act of violence but a sexual act as well.
When I was a teenager, and I first started feeling a sexual attraction to other boys, I often thought that going to prison would not be such a bad thing. I had heard of the "forced" gay sex that happens in prisons, and I figured it would be the only chance I had to fulfill my growing desire to have sex with men. The forced sexual contact of hazing is certainly another way to fulfill those desires; it's no wonder that so many gay men are attracted to college fraternities, long the bastion of hazing in our culture.
It's not just the guys. In the last few months, reports of hazing on women's teams have started to capture headlines, most notably the Northwestern University's women's soccer team, which was suspended after photographs of alleged hazing surfaced.
While 10 years ago most people who reported hazing at the high school and collegiate level were considered "whistle-blowers" and threats to the performance of a team, that attitude is largely changing. Our culture seems to have started to handle hazing in two different ways, depending on who's involved.
High school and collegiate teams that coerce athletes to run around in their jockstraps are suspended and vilified in the media, some of them having their season cancelled. But when professional teams do the same exact thing, they are laughed at, as though hazing is a big joke that everyone is in on.
In 2000, various Tennessee Titans were recorded taping rookie OG Aaron Koch from Oregon State to a field goal post, pouring chocolate syrup on him, and spraying him with water. What was maybe worse was how ESPN's Sean Salisbury and NBA great Mark Malone celebrated and glorified it.
How can we celebrate hazing at the professional level, yet tell 17- and 21-year-olds that it's not OK if they do it? We can't chuckle with the Associated Press when they post pictures of rookies in training camp having to encircle the field in their underwear or sing karaoke in front of a stadium of fans, and then wonder where our kids got the crazy idea that it's alright to force new teammates to endure harassment and ridicule.
The deeper problems with hazing are the culture it breeds and the slippery slope it can lead to. The infamous 2003 hazing incident involving the Mepham High School (N.Y.) football
team is a quintessential example. At a summer football camp in August 2003, team veterans sodomized younger players with broomsticks, golf balls and pinecones. It came almost 10 years after a player accused the coaching staff and several members of the same football program of a hazing attack that gave him a concussion; that case was settled out of court. After the 2003 incident, former players finally started talking about the culture of Mepham coach Kevin McElroy's football team, and how hazing had been a part of it for many years. It had likely started out "harmless" before involving physical attacks. Incoming freshman learned from the veterans that these things were part of being on the team; and when they became the veterans, the cycle continued down the slippery slope.
Experiencing the harassment and ridicule of hazing brings people closer, claim proponents of hazing (and there are many more than you could imagine), and it is argued that that bond is sacrosanct to the success of sports teams and fraternities.
This "bonding" argument has always troubled me. In a fraternity, the guys live together, shower together, eat together, study together. When one of their girlfriends breaks up with them, they're all there for him. When one of their parents passes away suddenly, they all attend the funeral. They become a family as close as they'll ever see outside the family structure they lived with for their first 18 years. 
It's the same thing with athletics. A team practices together every day, eats meals together, travels together, rooms together, wins together, loses together, gets injured together, and builds a bond that each member will remember for their lifetime.
No amount of paddling, licking whipped cream off of each other, or running around in your jockstrap is going to add to the closeness of these experiences. A team is built around a common goal and the struggles that ensue from chasing that goal, not from the nonsense that surrounds it.
As long as gay people are marginalized by sports culture, and as long as being submissive to a man is considered feminine, hazing will continue, not only because it emasculates the victim, but because the perpetrator feels no other acceptable way to live out his same-sex desires.
Atitlan wrote about these photos he reposted:

    I have found some more photos of a British rugby initiation. They were
uploaded by Johannes to his websites and then posted on to the [ymna2] Yahoo group by me in 2005.
    Most of Johannes' collection was about student initiations in
Europe and the USA and much of it can still be found at this address
(the links to certain of the picture folders seem not to be available
any longer):
http://members.lycos.nl/gaypoet


---------- The above amateur sports hazing photos were forwarded in  a group email message from: atitlan on his [ymna] Google group and [ymna2] Yahoo group ----------
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You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "ymna" group.
For more options, visit this group at http://groups.google.com/group/ymna?hl=en-

GB.





 


Celebrity Fakes: More stars on show in the nude




  








Tuesday, November 3, 2015

True Father, Brother, Son Experience: A True Incest Event





 

By Jack1972 submitted October 21, 2012

This is a true story. The only fictional part of this is my name, my father's name and brother's name.
Besides having our last name in common, we all have a cock looks the same and shoots same. Growing up I did not know my biological father. My mother had gotten divorced while I was still in the womb. My mother left my father while he was in Marines and she figured she could get ahead in life by leaving my Bio father and marrying a man of substance who had a college education. While this may have worked for her, it was hell for my older brother (and I) growing up in a home, where the step- father was  abusive and used our mother as his vessel to carry the only child he would ever have into the world. He eventually has a child named Mike. Mike gets it all growing up.

 He gets the new 18-speed bike, a new car when he comes of age, a fully paid-for  education (private
schools and colleges) . John (my natural brother, who is two years older than I) grew up being tortured (mentally, verbally and physically) by our step-father. My brother was so abused that he ended up trying to commit suicide twice as a teenager and the only solace he found was that in the arms (and bed) of his best friend in high school.
Physically, John is striking in high school. He's a football player and wrestler. He wins at every game he plays due his anger toward the abuse he received growing up. I would come home from school and find him whacking off in our shared bedroom, the bathroom or in the pool room. While I was never attracted to John, he was my brother and we would sometimes find ourselves doing things to each other if our parents were not home or, if it was late at night and one of us wanted to jerk off, the other would join in and we'd do things to each other just to make ourselves feel better about our looks and our bodies. In other words, we had some insecurities to deal with growing up, as our step-brother was Mr. Wonderful and we could never, ever live up to his accomplishments in our stepfather's eye. So, as teenagers (and eventually, as young adults) you find yourself wanting to feel good about who you are and, if there's only the two of us to help those good feelings along, then so be it.
Our jerk-off sessions eventually led to kissing, rimming, sucking, fucking and cumming. We made no bones about having sex with each other as we grew up.
Our biological father was German, Irish and Polish so, we had cocks that are thick, straight and nicely formed. No big veins, however, big mushroom heads and a bit on the pink side:-)
John is 7 inches and I'm just shy of 7.25 inches but a wee bit thicker. We both cum about the same and our cum tastes a bit the same. We both cum in long squirts (usually about five long squirts a piece) and we we're into cumming into each other's mouth. I watch these gay porn's where the guys cum in each other's face but, don't really seem to enjoy it. John and I would open up wide and cum on the tongue and swallow it down. We'd then suck whatever little seed was left until there was no more to drink.
      Intercourse was a different story, as I was not a fan of being fucked but, John thrived on being fucked. The first time I ever fucked him was with a carrot. I laughed my ass off as I stuck the big end of the carrot into his asshole and watched him squeal like a pig. Then I started using my fingers and eventually worked my way up to fucking him with my cock. It was not long before I was cumming inside him at least two to three a week. Now, keep in mind that he's a muscular guy with a six-pack and I'm the weaker of the two. Unlike john, I'm not into sports and I'm 140 lbs, blond hair and blue eyes. John is 170 lbs, blond hair, hazel eyes with a great smile. While I never want to be fucked and beg off of that part of our relationship, I do eventually succumb to his cock pumping away inside me - I get fucked based upon a "dare" after I had a few beers and sharing a joint.
Our parents had a big piece of property and a huge pond so, we'd go camping on one of the
small islands during the summer months. It was on a hot July night that John slid his cock into me. John had a lot of pubic hair and while I could feel his head growing inside me (as he was close to cumming), it was the tickling of hair against my ass (and his well-rounded balls) bouncing off my ass - that made me shoot my load up to the top of my chest. As he came (and I came) he licked up my cum and dropped into my mouth. I gladly drank down my cum while he filled me up his cum. He didn't immediately pull out his dick after he came. He left his cock inside me and I felt it deflate (slowly) and as his cock was getting softer, I could feel him start to grow again (as did I) and he slow-fucked me, as I came a second time. Unfortunately, he could not come a second time as he was spent. No doubt, my first fuck was my best and to this very day, I judge ALL fucks by the first.
While John is fucking around me, he also meets a cute guy named Mike (real name). Mike is dark haired, green eyes and on the wrestling team. John starts spending time with Mike (at his house) and I find a new friend in my neighbor (Eugene, his real name) and he has dark curly hair, brown eyes and he's one year younger than me. Eugene and I spend time blowing each other (he fucks me, he never gets fucked) and we have a great summer relieving our sexual tension, while my brother John does the same with Mike.
(BTW, years later, I meet Mike in a gay bar called Feathers in Teaneck, New Jersey and we had a hot session of sex while talking about what I did to John, what John did to me and what Mike did to John and what Eugene did with me).
   By the time I reach 19, I find out where our biological father is living (just 85 miles away) and my brother John is now in the service. I go down to visit my bio-dad for the first time and find out I have two half-brothers I never knew existed. I'm told I'm the best looking out of all the kids and everyone tells me that I take after my father (looks wise). The similarity between my father (Bob, real name) and me stops at looks. He's four inches taller (six feet) muscular, athletic build (from working in hard labor plumbing his entire life) and a cock that's 8.5 inches long and half as thick as coke can, however, he has a mushroom head like my brother John and I have so it's kind of cool to see that all of our cocks look the same with the exception of our father's cock being a longer. In the "balls" category, we ALL have large nuts and a big ball sac and, we ALL have blondish, light red) pubic hair. Our cocks (when erect) go rather straight and when soft, all hang down over our ball sacs. Where our assholes are concerned, we don't have hairy assholes but, we hair we do have is curly and guys like pushing their cocks through that hair on the way.
WARNING: Father/Son Incest Event Disclosed Below: 
Now, you may wonder how I know all this good stuff about our father and I'm going to share with you what TRULY (100%) happened to me at the age of 19. If you're a guy who ever wanted to have sex with your father (forget your uncles, cousins, brothers) then you have to be willing to do this on the off-chance that things will never be the same. Yes, you'll fulfill a life long fantasy (if it is) however, it comes with a downside (we'll discuss the downside at the end of this all-so-true event).
I start visiting my father on the weekends. He has two other boys but, they live with his third ex-wife (what a surprise there). He has a three bedroom house and he waits like a puppy dog (on Friday's) just waiting for me to arrive. This new found relationship is one that's kind of cool, as we did not grow up together and here he is discovering who I am as a adult. He has no clue I'm gay and he has absolutely no clue that I want t KNOW everything about him. I want to know about his failed marriages, his other boys, his likes, his dislikes and I have every intention of seeing his cock at some point and time. In fact, I want him to see my cock with and without a hard on just to see his expression. I want him to feel as though he not only had a good looking kid, but, he had one that has a decent body, broad shoulders, abs (because I was skinny and you could see them) and a nice pair of balls with a decent size cock. I have a bit of a bubble butt and I look pretty good in jeans and I want this guy to be proud of what he created.
        I have no inhibitions so, I spend my weekends (at his house) running to and from the bathroom with a towel around my waist or, no towel at all. One night, after we had more than a few beers (and a shot a piece) I excused myself from the living room, got into my designated bedroom and stripped down to nothing. I left the door open a foot and and started to jerk off. The light from the window was more than enough light for my father to walk by, duck in to say good-night and for him to see (and figure out) that I was masturbating. Sure enough, ten minutes later (don't know how I even held off cumming that long) I heard him lumbering up the stairs. My heart was beating so fast that I was starting to lose my hard on. I cupped the left hand around the base of my cock and balls in order to keep my erection. Just as I'm cupping my cock, my father ducks his head inside and says good-night but, he only gets out the word "good" and then says, "excuse me". I shout out, "oh" and he quietly closes the door until I hear it click. Now, I'm all worked up and almost explode with the excitement of him seeing my cock and nuts in their full glory.
While it's an achievement to get him to see my junk, I have other plans. My goal is
simple. I want his cock inside me. I want his cock head getting swollen inside me and I want to feel his balls tighten up, as he shoots his seed (the seed he used to create me) inside me. I want to lick his seed off his cock after he exits me and then i want to do it again and again and again. The next day I begin setting up the scenario that may just get me what I want. Now, he has no clue I'm gay, has no clue I want to have sex with him and thinks that all my running around giving him a cock shot, here and there, is just a young guy being a young guy, hanging out with his dad.
The following morning, we go fishing. I like to fish and that's a trait that all in the family seems to share. One good thing about fishing from a boat is that when you have to take a piss, there's no where to go but in the lake. So, we're out for a few hours and we're in this little cove and I stand up, undo my button and pull out my dick out to take a piss. My father takes a few glances and keeps on fishing. Now, I had a pee-chubby to begin with so I was looking pretty good in size and my dad says "so the apple don't fall far from the tree does it?" I smiled, laughed and sat back down and grabbed my pole (not the pole I wanted to grab but, a pole nonetheless).
      We caught a few decent sized trout and that's what we had for dinner. I'm sitting at dinner in a t-shirt and boxers as I had to take a shower when we got home and he did the same. While I used the guest bathroom, he used his bathroom in his master bedroom. It was during this time I got to take a decent look at his cock. I needed some boxers (as I don't own any) and waited for him to start the shower, heard him close the shower door and then I went in to ask if I could borrow a pair of his shorts. My father's bathroom was state of the art, as he's a plumber so, he's got all the goodies - including a glass door on the shower. I first saw him in profile and could see his cock hanging over his balls and I swear I was seeing John's cock. As I entered the bathroom he turned to me and there it was in all its glory. As he was washing his junk, he pulled on it (in front me) a few times and I could see a bit of growth. He turned his back to me as he told me to grab a pair of shorts and it was kind of funny as I spent time in his shorts drawer smelling his crotch smell while trying to find a pair of shorts to wear. As he turned the shower off, I grabbed a pair of shorts that had little flecks blue color that had no design. They were blue. 
So, here we are eating fish in the kitchen and my dick and balls are sitting there for him to look at (if he wishes) as his shorts are big on me and I could have being wearing tent. I'm skinny and he's tall and wider then me so, do the math. I see him take a few cursory looks every now and again but nothing to telling. I'm beginning to think that my fantasy may just stay a fantasy after all. I decide its time to turn up the heat a bit so I suggest we go out and have a few beers. He lives in a town called Manville, NJ, which is not a great place to go out and find a place where one can drink and talk quietly. The hick bars can be a bit rowdy so, I suggest we go one town over (which we do) and we stop at a Tavern. We down a few beers and I start buying him shots. One of us has to drive and I volunteer, as he's already had a few shots and I'm sipping short beers. It's 12:30 AM and time to go. He's had four shots and three and a half beers and he's not much of a drinker.
      He did not need help to the car but, certainly needed some help getting out of the car and into the house. We're not exchanging much in the way of words but, he's indicating it's time for bed and walk him into the bedroom and like I gave him a small push, he heads for the bed - without breaks. He falls softly on the bed and onto his back and I walk over to him and sit on the end of the bed and take off his shoes, I then pull off his socks and ask him if he needs anything else. He wants take a shower and I ask him if he needs help and he says "no". As I start to leave the room, he starts to pull off his pants as he heads for the bathroom. I hear him take a long pee and then I hear the shower start. I put on his boxers and t-shirt and wait until I hear the shower door closes. A few minutes go by and I walk into the bathroom asking him if I could borrow his razor in the morning and he says "sure". As I'm standing there I see him growing a bit. He's soaped up and tugging on his cock and he's just growing. I start to grow myself and actually get embarrassed and turn to my left and walk out the bathroom door. I go back to my bedroom and take off my t-shirt and boxers and get into bed.
I hear the shower stop, hear the bathroom door close and could even hear him fall into bed. I lay there for what seemed the longest time and then got up and went to the edge of his door. He was laying their with his hands behind his head, eyes closed and naked. He had a hard on and I just walked in slowly (naked myself) and asked him if he was okay. He smiled and said nothing. This is that moment I talked about earlier. This is that moment when you either do what you set out to do or do noting at all. I approached the bed with a full hard on, looked at his erect cock and approached the bed as though I was going to sit down but, detoured to his cock and put my mouth on his cock head and grabbed his balls gently. He went to push me away but he had enough liquor in him where he wasn't not about to push much away. I sucked on his cock and felt him grow in my mouth to a full erection. He had an erection when I walked in the room but, now he had a FULL erection. If I had never walked in his room, he probably would have jerked off.
I sucked on his cock real hard to keep him erect and I started to take my spit
(and his pre-cum mixed together) and while I sucked his cock - and spit out pre-cum and spit every few minutes - I would take the jizz/spit in my right hand and lube up my asshole getting ready for the right moment to sit on his cock.
While he's moaning, he was still resisting a bit but, boys being boys (and the apple not falling too far from the tree) any guy is do-able with enough alcohol and opportunity). I begin to feel his balls getting swollen and don't want him to come so I stop blowing him and concentrate on licking his balls and reaching my tongue down to his asshole. Now, being he's my father, I figure he likes all the same things I do so, I start pushing up his legs and he actually begins to move every so slightly, as I dig my tongue into his asshole. His dicks spitting pre-cum, his asshole is wet and I'm ready to be fucked.
    I'm filled with mixed emotions. I'm scared, horny, scared and then more horny and not fully hard myself. He begins to moan so much I panic that he's going to cum so I pull my head out his ass and straddle him but, I slide his cock in me as I straddle him. He hurt liked hell as he was bigger and thicker then I expected. I heard him moan out loud (really loud) as I slide his cock all the way in and I started pumping my ass up and down on my father's cock. I grab his balls with my right hand so I can feel his hairy balls slap my ass against me as I help him fuck me. This goes on for about five minutes and he's moaning and moaning and moaning and then I feel it. I feel his head swell up inside me and and literally screams out "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!". He cums all right. He cums so much that it's dripping out of my asshole onto his balls. When he's done cumming, I jump off him and lick up his cum and suck all of it off his dick. I even lick all of his pubic hair free of cum ans spit. He's just laying there not saying a word (I think he's in shock). I get down and start licking his balls, as I'm stroking myself and it takes all of nine strokes and I'm shooting my load on his bedspread.
(God, my heart was pounding just writing about this event and wishing I could do it again and again and again.)
So, what happens next? I leave his room, not a word is spoken. He eventually closes his door and I hear the lock click shut. The following morning, I get up, jerk off in bed to the images from the night before and head down to breakfast. On the kitchen table is a note that says, "please leave and never come back". So, you see, you can search all of your life for the ultimate connection with your dad and never find it. Sometimes, when you do find it and get it out of your system, there's nothing left but, the memory. My dad died last year of kidney disease and I hope he died a happy man.