Elementary Hazing

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.

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Elementary Hazing
[Alpenhorn, 2022]

1969. [Before the Internet. Before digital photography. Before cell phones.]
The south of France. A collège [=middle school]. Saturday afternoon.
The salle de gymnastique was decorated for the occasion. Mats were placed in the center of the floor with circles marking a wrestling ring. The bleachers were less than a quarter full.

[Loïc, Nando, Frits] Three boys sat together in the bleachers.
Loïc: See the banner? “Wrestling Season Launcher”?
Nando: Sure.
Loïc: “Launcher”—what a stupid name!
Frits: What would you call it?
Loïc: Dunno.
Frits: These events—where a sports squad is introduced to the school at the beginning of the term—they used to called them “Coming Out”. But that has a new meaning, so now they use “Launcher” instead.
Loïc: It still sounds stupid.

Nando: Who are all the people here in the bleachers?
Frits: Probably families and friends of the wrestlers. Some townies, I suppose. Some of the kids from the school. But not a lot of them, since attendance is not required.
Loïc: Right! So why are we here?
Frits: You know why.
Loïc: I do?
Frits: Sure. Kit and Uschi are fledglings on the wrestling squad. We are minnows on the swim team. We agreed that we would attend today, and in return they would attend the swimming launcher next week. So we hope the audience would not be too small for either one. Remember?
Loïc: Right. I did know that. I just forgot that I knew it.

Nando: Hey guys. Look over there. The Pep Band is playing. They will provide something to listen to between wrestling matches.
Loïc: You're so smart, you probably know the names of all the instruments.
Nando: Sure, there is nothing exotic.
Loïc: OK, what are they?
Nando: In the back row: two clarinets, a saxophone, and a snare drum. In the front row: two trumpets, and a trombone. Oh, also a tuba on the side there.
Frits: The tuba is almost as big as the kid playing it!
Loïc: Hey, I know that boy on the end. With the trombone. It’s Totophe.
Frits: You’re right. He’s in my science class.
Nando: The band is really good. Almost professional-sounding.

....

The locker room. The wrestling squad assembled. About 10 boys returning from last year. And 5 new boys—les oisillons—the “fledglings”.

Sandro, one of the returning boys, smiled to himself. He was looking forward to the hazing of the new boys. No one knew (he hoped) but he had finally admitted to himself that he liked boys more than girls.

Coach Falco came out of his office and looked the squad over. He nodded. “Boys,” he said. “I have a good feeling about the coming year. Don’t disappoint me.” The wrestlers replied in various ways that they will do their best.

“Now,” said Coach. “The first thing to discuss is this: Bizutage...Hazing.” The returning wrestlers smiled and whispered among themselves. “As you may know, there is a tradition of hazing the fledglings before the launch event.” The new boys looked at each other. They were worried.

“In the past, we had spanking,” Coach continued. “Aïe!” Sandro interrupted. “Dénudee! On the bare!” The other boys nodded and muttered. The fledglings huddled together.

“However,” Coach continued, frowning at Sandro. “That has now been outlawed. No pain may be administered. Not even for hazing. Especially not for hazing.” The fledglings relaxed a bit. “So today’s hazing will be different. Hopefully you will find it just as memorable as spanking was in the past.”

Kit, one of the fledglings, muttered to the others: “Looks like we’re in for something!” Sandro smiled. He was one of the returning boys who had planned the new methods of hazing. He nodded, agreeing with Kit.

“Let’s get going,” Coach continued. “All returning wrestlers: put on your gear.” The boys scattered to their lockers. That left only the five fledglings.

“You boys,” Coach continued. “You don’t have uniforms yet. I want you to put your clothes in your lockers, then come back here. Everything in the lockers. Everything. You must be complètement nus.” Five fledglings all looked stunned. “Get to it!” Coach said. “I want you back here in one minute!”

....

Normally, there was a table here in the middle of the locker room. Something for paperwork, trophy display, and so on. That table had been removed. Coach instructed the naked fledglings to stand there, where the table usually was. The other wrestlers gathered around.

Sandro was stunned by the luscious sight. Five boys were lined up in a row. They were all button-cute; all athletically fit; and (don’t forget!) all naked. Some had wide-eyed expressions. Some were blushing. Some were breathing erratically. They clutched their yummies—leurs parties viriles—tightly in their hands.

Sandro admired everything on display. He admired their muscles: pronounced biceps; great abs; thighs strong enough to crush their opponents. He licked his lips. Sandro tried to decide which of the five was cutest. But whenever he thought he had made up his mind, his eye would move to the next one, and that decision would be overruled. He anticipated the (so far invisible) yummies: The young zizis. The bulging walnuts. Would there be any pubic hair?

“Wrestlers,” Coach said. “Let me introduce your new team-mates.” He gestured to the fledglings one after the other.

“Kit.” A brown-haired, green-eyed, sun-tanned French boy.

“Momo.” Black hair, dark eyes, brownish skin. Born in France, an Arab of Algerian origin.

“Jojo.” European features, reddish hair, not as tanned as Kit.

“Bennie.” Bennie blushed when everyone looked at him. Very pale skin. Hair so blond it was almost white.

“Uschi.” Very dark skin, almost black. Cute dimples (all four cheeks).

The five naked boys stood uneasily as everyone else looked them over. Coach stepped to the locker room door. He returned with another kid. The photographer for the school newspaper! Coach explained, “A photo: The Fledglings of 1969.” The photographer started setting up the camera on its tripod. The fledglings were surprised by that.

“But, Coach,” Uschi cried, “we’re naked!”

“Of course you are.” Coach winked at them. “This is your hazing, after all.”

“Hold still,” the photographer said, holding the flash bulb out to the side at arm’s length.

Coach urged, “Try to smile, boys. As if you look forward to wrestling on this squad.”

* FLASH *

The black-and-white picture was in the school newspaper a week later. Five naked boys, clutching their yummies, feebly smiling. Later, a framed copy was added to the wall in the locker room.

....

Coach made some more announcements to the team. “This is not a regular inter-school competition. The matches will involve you against each other. We will not follow all the rules of an actual competition. For example, some of the restrictions will be relaxed after an hour or so...” Coach kept talking. But the naked boys were not paying attention.

The five fledglings were tense. Waiting. Would Coach order them to remove their hands and display their yummies? Jojo thought he was faint if that happened. Would Coach have the older boys grab the naked boys, holding their arms and legs apart, with nothing left to shield themselves? Uschi wondered how loud he would scream. Would Coach order them into the gym, packed with spectators, while they were still naked? Bennie contemplated the option of quitting the wrestling squad. The imaginations of the naked boys were running wild.

But none of the things they feared happened.

“Let’s get the fledglings outfitted,” said Coach.

The five boys smiled and relaxed. They imagined that they would go back to the benches near their lockers and get dressed. But no: “Stay in your spots,” Coach ordered.

First, one of the returning boys distributed the couvre-chefs...wrestling headgears. There were two pads to protect the ears, with straps on the top of the head, straps on the back of the head, and a chin strap.

Kit was first. The kid held the headgear out to him. Kit was supposed to reach out and take it. But! Kit’s hands were clutching his yummies. There was an awkward pause. Finally—after thinking a bit—Kit took the headgear with one hand, keeping the other down below on duty.

Sandro watched closely, but he did not see any yummy. He guessed that Kit’s yummies were so small that one hand was enough to hide them.

All five boys had their headgears. Now they had to put them on. Can it be done with one hand only? They couldn’t just turn their backs, because the older boys completely surrounded them.

One of the fledgings, Momo, just used both hands, donned the headgear really fast, and returned his hands to fig-leaf duty. Mince! Sandro scolded himself: I should have been watching that, but I wasn’t.

The other four tried and tried to do it with one hand. Mostly, they did get the headgear on. But how can you fasten the chinstrap with only one hand? The clothed wrestlers were laughing at all the contortions. Even Coach was smiling. Sandro (and maybe a few others) were watching for yummies with eagle eyes.

Kit figured out a method. Squat down on the floor, with your yummies tightly squeezed between your legs, then use both hands for the headgear. Jojo and Bennie found another method. They each kept one hand for their yummies; Bennie used his other hand to help Jojo with his headgear; then Jojo did the same for Bennie.

Finally the headgears were in place.

Next came shoes and socks. Can shoes and socks be put on with one hand? Can it be done squatting down with legs tightly squeezing yummies? And even if it can: these were wrestling shoes with laces that have to be tightened and tied. What about a boy losing his balance had falling over? Yummies on display!

Everyone watched the spectacle, laughing at the attempts. Sandro kept track of what he saw. All five zizis! (No pubic hair that he noticed.) All ten walnuts! Even a few backdoor puckers. What a treat for his eyes!

Finally, the five singlets were given out. Tight briefs, with straps that go over the shoulders. Of course in the school colors.

By then, the fledglings didn't try so hard to figleaf their yummies. They just put the singlets on in the normal way, even if everyone was watching.

Regardez! Look! Five outfitted fledglings standing in a row. Sandro was still gazing at their yummies, which were obvious despite being covered. Coach laughed. “OK, guys, here are your cups. You can go and use the mirrors over there to put them in. Try to keep your yummies from being obvious to the whole audience!” It was strange to hear an adult using the slang word “yummies”.

“All right, wrestlers. Let’s go out to the gym. You know your order: heaviest to lightest. When you get there, stand in front of the bench. I will introduce you.”

As they filed out, Uschi said to Momo: “I’m glad the hazing is over. I never want to do that again!” Sandro overheard the remark. Little do they know... It is not over yet!

.... ....

In the gym. The wrestling squad took their places. Coach used the microphone to introduce all of them.

Then the matches began. First was a match between the two heaviest wrestlers. Then the next heaviest. And so on. The fledgling matches would be last.

[Loïc, Nando, Frits] Three boys sat together in the bleachers.
Nando: This is boring.
Frits: Probably if we knew more about wrestling it would be interesting.
Nando: Maybe. But we don’t, so it’s not.
Loïc: There are some interesting things to look at...

....

It was around an hour into the launch. Coach stood up. The Pep Band stopped when they reached the end of the number.

“The next match. Ladies and gentlemen: Number 14, Sandro! Number 35, Kit! Kit is one of our newest wrestlers.”

Sandro was the lightest of the returning wrestlers, Kit was the heaviest of the fledglings. The two circled around the ring facing each other. Suddenly: A take-down. Sandro got Kit off his feet and slammed him onto the mat. Kit managed to escape.

Then Kit was surprised. Sandro grabbed the shoulder strap of Kit’s singlet and used that to fling him down to the floor. Kit waited for the referee to declare the move illegal. But there was nothing.

“Ha,” Sandro quietly taunted Kit. “You didn’t pay attention when Coach was explaining things. The rule against grabbing your clothing is gone!”

Kit could hardly believe it. The two wrestlers circled around for a bit. Then Sandro grabbed Kit's shoulder strap again. This time Kit managed to stay on his feet, but the strap was torn loose. It was now just a long streamer hanging down from Kit’s waist. If Sandro could grab it whenever he wanted, it would be a huge advantage for him.

Whenever the wrestlers came close to each other, they tried to grab each other’s clothing. Sandro was much better at that than Kit. Sandro pulled Kit’s other shoulder strap loose. Kit tried, but failed, to do the same to Sandro.

Then Sandro made his big move. Suddenly he grabbed Kit’s singlet by the waist on both sides. Sandro leaned back, pulling. The singlet tore into two pieces. Sandro jerked Kit’s singlet completely off!

Oh, no! Kit’s singlet was gone! Kit grabbed his yummies, desperate to hide them. Sandro plowed into Kit and knocked him to the mat. Kit was pinned in no time, with Sandro on top of him. Sandro was enjoying it a lot. My naked thigh is touching this boy’s naked yummies. Sandro savored the feeling until the referee declared the match over.

Sandro walked smiling back to the bench. Kit clutched his yummies as he walked back. That was not very dignified. Kit’s singlet had been shredded, so he had nothing to wear. Coach did not let him return to the locker room. At least there was a towel: Kit sat in his place, unhappily clutching the towel in his lap. That was not very dignified, either.

....

Between matches, the Pep Band played.

[Loïc, Nando, Frits] Three boys sat together in the bleachers.
Frits: That was different.
Loïc: Did you see his yummies?
Nando: What?
Loïc: You know. After he lost his uniform, before he covered up with his hands. His yummies!
Nando: I guess I was too surprised to think of that.
Frits: Remember the announcement at the beginning? Rules would be relaxed after an hour. I guess this was it.

....

“The next match. Two of our fledglings. Ladies and gentlemen: Number 42, Momo! Number 37, Uschi!”

The two wrestlers warily circled around. They grabbed at each other’s uniforms. This made a different kid of wrestling. Most of the time nothing happened, but now and then there was a rip.

All too soon Momo’s singlet was completely torn off. He did not stupidly grab his yummies—Kit had shown that was a sure way to lose the match. Instead, he continued trying to get at Ushi’s singlet. The spectators loved it. The two boys rolled around on the mat: Momo naked, but Uschi not yet.

This may be the end! One of Momo’s shoulders was on the mat. Uschi was trying to force the other shoulder down. If both of Momo’s shoulders are on the mat for 3 seconds, Momo will lose! The referee knelt down with his head almost on the mat so he could see when the second shoulder touched. But Momo valiantly strained to remain a few centimeters above the mat.

Momo gritted his teeth in the effort to keep from being pinned. He was completely absorbed in that effort. Uschi applied as much weight as he could. It was a scrum of two intertwined bodies. At the bottom, Momo’s shoulders. In the middle, Momo’s torso trapped by Uschi’s legs. At the top, Momo’s hips and legs. And his yummies. As Momo exerted himself down on the mat, his yummies were waving around, boldly on display to the spectators.

The audience laughed and cheered. Someone started a chant: “Yum yum yummies.” Soon everyone was chanting. When Momo realized what the chant was saying—and what private parts were on display—his concentration wavered, and Uschi completed the pin.

....

[Loïc, Nando, Frits] Three boys sat together in the bleachers.
Loïc:Zut! “Yum yum” is right.
Nando: If you say so.
Loïc: That was Momo?
Nando: I think so.
Loïc: Momo’s yummies. So cute!
Nando: Cute?
Loïc: And, you know? I always thought he was an Arab. I’ll bet “Momo” is short for “Mohammad”.
Nando: So what?
Loïc: Well, Arabs are usually circumcised, and now we know about Momo!
Nando: We do?
Loïc: Ouf! Didn’t you even look at those yummies?
Nando: Well, maybe.
Frits: I agree. Loïc is right. Definitely circumcised.
Loïc: I wonder. On Monday will the whole school be talking about Momo's yummies? Won’t that be fun for him.
Frits: I think “fun” is not the right word.

Nando: Listen—the Pep Band is not sounding so good now.
Frits: But look at them. I guess they decided to use the same hazing as the wrestling squad.
Nando: Interesting. Three of them—I guess the new players this year—are standing in front, naked. Two boys and a girl.
Frits: The drum hides the girl from the waist down.
Nando: Look at that boy. Playing trumpet with one hand, so he can use the other to shield his yummies.
Loïc: Totophe is the third one. You can’t play trombone with one hand. When he plays, he has to let everything show! Wowie. I’m glad we came today!
Frits: OK, Loïc. Calm down. Stay in your seat.
Loïc: Why?
Frits: I don’t want the whole school to think I have a sex maniac as a friend.
Loïc: Sex maniac?
Frits: Who else would be drooling over naked yummies? First Momo, and now Totophe.
Loïc: Sorry. I will sit here nicely. It’s just...I don’t know. Two in one day?

Nando: Now I understand.
Frits: Understand what?
Nando: Why their music suddenly got so bad.
Frits: Hein?
Nando: Well, if you were standing there—naked, in public—you would play some wrong notes, too.
Frits: You are so right.
Nando: And look at poor Totophe. He is so upset—surely about being naked—that he has trouble breathing. And breathing is certainly essential for playing a trombone.

Frits: Hey, guys. Who wants to go to the gymnastics launcher this week?
Loïc: Gymnastics? Isn’t that all girls?
Frits: Exactly. Maybe they will do the same hazing? Do you think? Think about that.
Nando: Naked girl gymnastics. I’m in!
Loïc: Naked girls? You really would want to see that?
Frits & Nando: YES!
Loïc: I don't know.
Frits: Look, Loïc. We came here with you, and you saw your naked boys. So you owe it to us to go to gymnastics.
Loïc: If you say so.

Nando: {Laughing loudly} This is too much!
Frits: What?
Nando: Listen to the Pep Band. Do you know what they are playing?
Frits: The tune does sound familiar. But I can’t think of what it is.
Nando: It was done by The Hombres in their album a year or two ago ...
Frits: Oh. Oh. I know: “Let It All Hang Out”.
Nando & Frits {laughing}

Loïc: Beurck!
Frits: What?
Loïc: We’re in trouble!
Frits: I know you’re in trouble, but what do Nando and I have to do with it?
Loïc: We’re all in the swimming launcher next week.
Frits: Oh. So what if...
Nando: What if swimming uses this method of hazing! Beurck!Weare in trouble.
Frits: Why? Have you seen those speedos the swim team has? We’ll be 95 percent naked anyway. What difference is another 5 percent?
Loïc: What difference? Everything! Frits, you are so illogical. My yummies are never coming out.
Frits: Well, we don't know whether swimming will have that sort of hazing. And even if they do, what do you want to do about it? Do you want to quit the swim team?
Nando: ... No ... I really want to swim here.
Frits: What about you, Loïc?
Loïc: ???
Frits: Let us know when you decide. We will miss you if you drop out.

....

The Pep Band finished the number. They would rest for a minute. But the three naked newbies were required to remain standing in full view. Naked trumpeter Alfie shuddered from embarrassment. His left hand still clutched his yummies, preserving his last shred of modesty. His right hand had a cramp; it had been doing double duty, both holding the trumpet to his lips and valving.

Alfie snuck a peek at naked trombonist Totophe next to him. Totophe is my best friend, Alfie thought, but I have never before seen his yummies. He looked at those yummies again; this time it was more than just a peek. The sight gave Alfie a special warm feeling. He forced his eyes away from that, to look into Totophe’s face. Alfie asked “How are you doing?”

Totophe answered hesitantly: “Not good.” He took a sudden deep breath. (Was it a sigh or a sob?) “At first I thought I might barf. My yummies felt ice-cold.” At the mention of the yummies, Alfie’s eyes involuntarily moved down there for another good look. He puzzled to himself: If I like looking at Totophe’s yummies this way, even though he feels humiliated, does that mean I am disloyal?

The next wrestling match was not ready to start, so the band began its next number. Alfie made a—to him—momentous decision: to stop covering his own yummies; to share Totophe’s humiliation. After all, that’s what friends do: make sacrifices for each other. Now there were two zizis bouncing in time with the beat. Totophe shed a tear in gratitude.

A yelp was heard from across the arena. “Frits, Grab his other arm!” someone said loudly.

....

Ultimate match. Coach stood up at the microphone. The band finished the number. The newbies in the band were allowed to get dressed.

“And, now our final match of the day. The two lightest wrestlers. Ladies and gentlemen: Number 31, Jojo! Number 33, Bennie!”

The referee started the match. Each boy immediately went for his opponent’s uniform. Rip, rip, rip! The singlets were in tatters on the floor. Bennie and Jojo circled around; concentrating on each other; ignoring the fact of their yummies on view.

But the spectators did not ignore it. There were cheers and applause. Someone started the “Yum, yum” chant, but few others joined. A boy in the bleachers stood and whistled. The two boys beside him pulled him back down. “Loïc,” one of them said, “stay in your seat.”

Bennie and Jojo tried their wrestling moves on each other. But they were evenly matched: same height; same weight; same trainer the past two years. They snarled and grunted. They grabbed each other and contorted their bodies. Neither one could gain an advantage.

Consider such intense physical exertion in boys that age: bodies slamming, hands groping, legs entwining, muscles straining. What can it lead to? What does it mean? It means ...les triques ... stiffies. These two boys had the smallest zizis in the arena. But the spectators loved it when those zizis stiffened. Just like the rest of them, Benny's and Jojo's stiffies were evenly matched!

The boy in the bleachers stood up again, cheering. He was not the only one on his feet. So the two friends stood up beside him. At least they kept him from throwing himself down onto the gym floor!

Bennie and Jojo continued going at it. Each of them got a few take-downs, but could not gain an advantage. They circled round and round. Every spectator could view all sides of the two boys.

The audience-favorite moment was when Bennie and Jojo grabbed each other face-to-face in a mutual bear hug. Each boy joined his hands behind the other. Jojo tried to lift Bennie off his feet, to gain the advantage. Bennie tried to lift Jojo. But still they were evenly matched. They strained against each other. They pushed, they pulled. They squeezed, they twisted.

Regardez! Their zizis were touching in the middle. The crowd cheered. Everyone watched the two stiffies. Rub, rub; up and down. Neither Bennie nor Jojo had any experience with sex. Were they learning now? In the middle of the arena? With hundreds of people watching?

Rub, rub, rub! Stiff, stiff, STIFF! “Ooh, aah!” cheered the spectators. “Yum yum yummies!”

There was also another wrestling match. It was in the bleachers. Nando and Frits desperately tried to keep Loïc under control.

The bell sounded to end the match. Bennie and Jojo stepped back from each other, sweaty and panting. The referee moved between them, grabbed one wrist of each boy, and held them both up high. A draw. What a finish!

The crowd was cheering. Even the wrestlers on the bench stood up and clapped. (The towels covering the yummies of Kit and Momo slid to the floor, forgotten.)

Bennie and Jojo smiled broadly. They thought everyone was cheering for their athletic performance (and maybe a few were). But really the cheers were for the marvelous view. Guided by the grinning referee, the group of three turned slowly around 360 degrees, facing all parts of the bleachers.

And what a view it was! Two button-cute boys—on display for the whole school! Wearing shoes and headgear, but absolutely nothing else. One with pale skin, the other somewhat tanned. Muscular arms. Muscular legs. Rock-hard abs. Amazing bubble butts. Their bulging walnut sacs were visible, because les triques were standing up out of the way—rock-hard blushing zizis.

Before returning to the bench, the two boys shook hands. They had forgotten that they were naked. And stiff! When they remembered, they clenched their yummies—two hands were definitely needed now—and walked proudly back to the bench.

We can guess what the kids in the school will be talking about on Monday. Those who did not attend the event will regret it. Will Bennie and Jojo stay home because of the humiliation? Or will they proudly walk the halls basking in their fame? (Along with Kit and Momo ... and the two boys in the band, Alfie and Totophe.)

And what about the future launch events—gymnastics Wednesday, then swimming next Saturday? Were those teams hurriedly re-doing their hazing plans? And the other sports: were they trying to think of how to top this?

When the stodgy government officials outlawed painful hazing (in private), little did they suspect it would be replaced by naked hazing (in public).

(End of File)