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Nude Out Of Place
- Thread starter Modesto
- Start date
morten sigurdson
Voivode of Wallachia
Looks like more of the Solstice festival in Fremont, Oregon (now on my bucket list)
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morten sigurdson
Voivode of Wallachia
Amazing event.
KvK
Tribune
Those Europeans!
We didn't have initiations when I was a student, pity
Although I would have found it mortifying at that age!
I think a Tree family wedding pic snuck into this set
View attachment 518692
Either this one has one hell of an interesting tramp stamp tattoo or she forgot to wipe her ass by the way the smiling woman in her 40's-50's in a blue sweater and jeans is taking a cellphone photo of her from behind.
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Hum, gooooood ! But I prefer Basket, it's cleaner !
Attachments
More stretching going on too.Hum, gooooood ! But I prefer Basket, it's cleaner !
More stretching going on too.
Stretching is good
See the fitness girls thread for stretching
![Crit%2520083[1].jpg](/xf/data/attachments/520/520313-a5903a9b369433a0dcfee8a987d379ba.jpg)
![Crit%2520220[1].jpg](/xf/data/attachments/520/520315-51491cfb1c31145d7d1b6ec093710d68.jpg)
![Crit%2520215[1].jpg](/xf/data/attachments/520/520314-8585f8f2fec27d6ba4c282791cf3a9f4.jpg)
![Crit%2520228[1].jpg](/xf/data/attachments/520/520316-71398f89355adec3d990c59cc129347a.jpg)
![Crit%2520229[1].jpg](/xf/data/attachments/520/520317-f7ea9a78cbfd616730057a5cf89d547b.jpg)
Then I have to become a French doctor!!!
Lucia
Assistant executioner
An initiation story from 1970
Student initiation games at the entry of university are a venerable tradition in Europe. Sadly, because some bad clubs organized stupid (dangerous, unhealthy of illegal) activities (or unlucky accidents happened), they are now heavily regulated. Also, the ubiquitous digital photo-apparatus make some activities more tricky (In a good organization, anything that can make photos will be forbidden, but it is harder to police). However, last year september, when walking close to an campus in the city, three very young and very giggly girl students (which at my age is anything under 25) in (decent) underwear asked me to sign my name with my own pen “in a covered part” – they had to collect five signatures in five different pen colors. A classic, I thought, happy that some traditions are hard to kill, even by modern meddling bureaucrats.
In 1970, I started medicine at a young university. Initiation (“baptism”) was voluntary, but it opened doors in the student movement that otherwise stayed closed, so most of us did it. It was modern, avoiding too much booze (tipsy was OK, but too drunk participants were excluded). But we came from very repressive colleges and lycea, and arrived after the summer of love, Woodstock, feminists burning bra’s and the “invention” of the monokini. Boozing was replaced with more sexy games.
In the late afternoon, there was a parade in the city. Smaller groups of students, freshmen accompanied by “baptizers” walked from the university through the city. We were clothed in old, loose clothes and the cheapest underwear I could find, knowing we would be filthy. In the (large) red light area was a small square, then rather derelict but still a nice place, with many bars. In the neighboring streets sat the working girls behind windows. The yearly student initiations were a popular event there, probably good for business: young male students discovered some possibilities they had not yet thought of… In the short term, we attracted both clients and unemployed girls as our public.
We were divided in teams of 8 persons, with 2 or 3 girls per team (in 1970, we were still a minority). We had to make a clothesline, a cheap trick to get you out of your clothes. We were not yet modern enough to get rid of our underwear, not in that public… Anyway, we were smaller in our team and would lose anyway. The losers were again divided in two teams of four, we had to crawl between two fixed tarpaulins of some ten meter, take a cap with our mouth from a dish of dogfood and crawl back. Under the tarpaulin was offal, fat and blood from the slaughterhouse. Crawling half naked through intestines, fat and blood and then plunging your face in a dish of dogfood: that is really filthy, creepy and disgusting. Happily, I was a girl scout (and the other girl too) and we knew this (with mud and water, not with offal and dogfood): I slid and swam full speed through the gore, plunged full face in the dogfood and we won. You can imagine how we looked, zombies covered in blood and animal fat with our face under the dogfood. We were then “baptized” by beer over our underwear, making it soaking and sticking. My cheap white underwear left very little to the imagination. Thanks to girl scouts and sports team, I was not shy to show myself naked to others, but glared on by horny students and even hornier prostitute clients, it was embarrassing and slightly disturbing.
The fate of the losers was worse. The girl was handcuffed with her hands on her back (with handcuffs from a sexshop). The boys got four grapes each in their underpants, which she had to crush with her teeth… She kneeled then and had to take off the underpants of the three boys with her teeth. Two boys slid her shoulder straps of her bra from her shoulders. The key was then put in another dish, covered with living and crawling worms from an animal shop. She was informed that the worms were harmless and fit to eat by humans, but a bit scary for a girl to put her face in to get the key out. She was the courageous type, sighing she went on her knees looking for the key. Off course, her breasts fell from her bra. However, topless tanning began to be very popular, particular in our generation. She didn’t care too much, she “mouthed” over the key to one of her partners, who had to leave his genitals to undo her cuffs.
The evening was cool. Cold, but also very cool. Part of the campus was an old fort from the 19th century, surrounded by a moat. At the border of the moat was a pile of operation gowns, from the hospitals. We were invited to undress (except our shoes) and dress with an operation gown. The explanation was: you want other people to undress before you, people of all sorts in the hospital wear these gowns without anything under. As we were now under students, I wasn’t shy. Girls who really insisted could keep their slip on, but most of us found that of poor standing. You know these gowns, that close from behind: you walk more or less in your bare backside. Smart girl, I took two, which is a bit warmer. In beginning October, the evenings are pretty cold.
A big rope hung over the moat, and we were ferried two by two across the moat in small rubber dingys, with a small candle. That was really cool: the night, our little candles, the water, the mound, the feeling of vulnerability in our gowns. At the side of the mound was a small footpath, and we walked around and then in the heart of the old fort, guided by small lights. That was a big building around an open square. We went upstairs, and were in a large hallway that run around. Due to the building, that hallway was not straight, but run around in corners which made that you could never see far. The light through the windows was very faint, enough to see contours. The walls were close to two meter deep, at the bigger windows there were small bays. If you walked down the corridor, you could see there fell candle light from some of the bays.
We were invited to leave our gowns and our shoes and walk around the building. The floor was made of cobble stones, not too difficult too walk barefoot. It is a very beautiful, romantic place. It was dark, mysterious, I was naked, vulnerable, scared, a bit but not too drunk, but I was definitely enjoying the place, and my nakedness. Actually, most of us did. In some of the bay windows, there were “tableaux vivants”. Most were a bit silly, a few a bit unsettling. In the first, lighted by a single candle on the ground, there hung a young student by the neck, his hands tied on the back, his feet hidden, guarded by two grim looking guards. I remember it vividly. He played his part, hung there quite convincingly with his head crooked. And the boy was stark naked, I could not take my eyes from his genitals. It had something obscene, where the question was if it was the tableau or my view that made it obscene. In another bay window sat two boys, naked zombies, painted white (but very white), with red eyes (but very red). They didn’t say a word (they asked us to respect the silence and not to make a sound), just looked at me with their red eyes. You knew it was for fun, but it still was scary. In another bay was a naked girl, playing dead corpse on a carpet and painted white again, now with blackened eyes, guarded over by two red devils: naked boys painted in red from head to toe, each with two small horns. When she heard you coming, she suddenly raised. Her black eyes on me gave me gooseflesh.
At the opposite stairs there were lights on the stairs pointing downward. Downstairs, you walked to more or less the same corridor in opposite direction, pitch dark but you could take a candle. There was a door, with Christmas tree lights, behind it was the din of loud music. You had not much choice, but to go in.
It was fantastic. It was a big room, filled with some hundred people. On the wall played a silent movie, Dracula (stunning!). We had to perform three dances, two with a boy and one “solo”: Child in Time! I had never heard such beautiful, gripping rock music. I danced like a derwisj. I was naked, but entirely forgot that… The other dances were a rock and a slow: I had chosen the dark haired boy I fancied for a slow. I was not very drunk, but high as a kite. We kissed (on the closed mouth) – one of my best kisses ever. In the meantime, everyone was throwing blue stuff at us: squash from beets with methylene blue. We looked like Smurfs.
Our (both dirty and clean) clothes were in the backroom, (cold) showers available, but with several others we decided to skinny dip in the moat in the deep of the night: the water was cold, but still swimmable. From the hospitals were towels – I still remember the feeling of “highness without drugs”. Okay, I had some alcohol, but I had been careful (I can’t stand too much alcohol).
They still do the dances and methylene blue squash (it is now officially illegal, but students will be students). I met there a dark haired girl and the dark haired boy: we became friends for life.
Student initiation games at the entry of university are a venerable tradition in Europe. Sadly, because some bad clubs organized stupid (dangerous, unhealthy of illegal) activities (or unlucky accidents happened), they are now heavily regulated. Also, the ubiquitous digital photo-apparatus make some activities more tricky (In a good organization, anything that can make photos will be forbidden, but it is harder to police). However, last year september, when walking close to an campus in the city, three very young and very giggly girl students (which at my age is anything under 25) in (decent) underwear asked me to sign my name with my own pen “in a covered part” – they had to collect five signatures in five different pen colors. A classic, I thought, happy that some traditions are hard to kill, even by modern meddling bureaucrats.
In 1970, I started medicine at a young university. Initiation (“baptism”) was voluntary, but it opened doors in the student movement that otherwise stayed closed, so most of us did it. It was modern, avoiding too much booze (tipsy was OK, but too drunk participants were excluded). But we came from very repressive colleges and lycea, and arrived after the summer of love, Woodstock, feminists burning bra’s and the “invention” of the monokini. Boozing was replaced with more sexy games.
In the late afternoon, there was a parade in the city. Smaller groups of students, freshmen accompanied by “baptizers” walked from the university through the city. We were clothed in old, loose clothes and the cheapest underwear I could find, knowing we would be filthy. In the (large) red light area was a small square, then rather derelict but still a nice place, with many bars. In the neighboring streets sat the working girls behind windows. The yearly student initiations were a popular event there, probably good for business: young male students discovered some possibilities they had not yet thought of… In the short term, we attracted both clients and unemployed girls as our public.
We were divided in teams of 8 persons, with 2 or 3 girls per team (in 1970, we were still a minority). We had to make a clothesline, a cheap trick to get you out of your clothes. We were not yet modern enough to get rid of our underwear, not in that public… Anyway, we were smaller in our team and would lose anyway. The losers were again divided in two teams of four, we had to crawl between two fixed tarpaulins of some ten meter, take a cap with our mouth from a dish of dogfood and crawl back. Under the tarpaulin was offal, fat and blood from the slaughterhouse. Crawling half naked through intestines, fat and blood and then plunging your face in a dish of dogfood: that is really filthy, creepy and disgusting. Happily, I was a girl scout (and the other girl too) and we knew this (with mud and water, not with offal and dogfood): I slid and swam full speed through the gore, plunged full face in the dogfood and we won. You can imagine how we looked, zombies covered in blood and animal fat with our face under the dogfood. We were then “baptized” by beer over our underwear, making it soaking and sticking. My cheap white underwear left very little to the imagination. Thanks to girl scouts and sports team, I was not shy to show myself naked to others, but glared on by horny students and even hornier prostitute clients, it was embarrassing and slightly disturbing.
The fate of the losers was worse. The girl was handcuffed with her hands on her back (with handcuffs from a sexshop). The boys got four grapes each in their underpants, which she had to crush with her teeth… She kneeled then and had to take off the underpants of the three boys with her teeth. Two boys slid her shoulder straps of her bra from her shoulders. The key was then put in another dish, covered with living and crawling worms from an animal shop. She was informed that the worms were harmless and fit to eat by humans, but a bit scary for a girl to put her face in to get the key out. She was the courageous type, sighing she went on her knees looking for the key. Off course, her breasts fell from her bra. However, topless tanning began to be very popular, particular in our generation. She didn’t care too much, she “mouthed” over the key to one of her partners, who had to leave his genitals to undo her cuffs.
The evening was cool. Cold, but also very cool. Part of the campus was an old fort from the 19th century, surrounded by a moat. At the border of the moat was a pile of operation gowns, from the hospitals. We were invited to undress (except our shoes) and dress with an operation gown. The explanation was: you want other people to undress before you, people of all sorts in the hospital wear these gowns without anything under. As we were now under students, I wasn’t shy. Girls who really insisted could keep their slip on, but most of us found that of poor standing. You know these gowns, that close from behind: you walk more or less in your bare backside. Smart girl, I took two, which is a bit warmer. In beginning October, the evenings are pretty cold.
A big rope hung over the moat, and we were ferried two by two across the moat in small rubber dingys, with a small candle. That was really cool: the night, our little candles, the water, the mound, the feeling of vulnerability in our gowns. At the side of the mound was a small footpath, and we walked around and then in the heart of the old fort, guided by small lights. That was a big building around an open square. We went upstairs, and were in a large hallway that run around. Due to the building, that hallway was not straight, but run around in corners which made that you could never see far. The light through the windows was very faint, enough to see contours. The walls were close to two meter deep, at the bigger windows there were small bays. If you walked down the corridor, you could see there fell candle light from some of the bays.
We were invited to leave our gowns and our shoes and walk around the building. The floor was made of cobble stones, not too difficult too walk barefoot. It is a very beautiful, romantic place. It was dark, mysterious, I was naked, vulnerable, scared, a bit but not too drunk, but I was definitely enjoying the place, and my nakedness. Actually, most of us did. In some of the bay windows, there were “tableaux vivants”. Most were a bit silly, a few a bit unsettling. In the first, lighted by a single candle on the ground, there hung a young student by the neck, his hands tied on the back, his feet hidden, guarded by two grim looking guards. I remember it vividly. He played his part, hung there quite convincingly with his head crooked. And the boy was stark naked, I could not take my eyes from his genitals. It had something obscene, where the question was if it was the tableau or my view that made it obscene. In another bay window sat two boys, naked zombies, painted white (but very white), with red eyes (but very red). They didn’t say a word (they asked us to respect the silence and not to make a sound), just looked at me with their red eyes. You knew it was for fun, but it still was scary. In another bay was a naked girl, playing dead corpse on a carpet and painted white again, now with blackened eyes, guarded over by two red devils: naked boys painted in red from head to toe, each with two small horns. When she heard you coming, she suddenly raised. Her black eyes on me gave me gooseflesh.
At the opposite stairs there were lights on the stairs pointing downward. Downstairs, you walked to more or less the same corridor in opposite direction, pitch dark but you could take a candle. There was a door, with Christmas tree lights, behind it was the din of loud music. You had not much choice, but to go in.
It was fantastic. It was a big room, filled with some hundred people. On the wall played a silent movie, Dracula (stunning!). We had to perform three dances, two with a boy and one “solo”: Child in Time! I had never heard such beautiful, gripping rock music. I danced like a derwisj. I was naked, but entirely forgot that… The other dances were a rock and a slow: I had chosen the dark haired boy I fancied for a slow. I was not very drunk, but high as a kite. We kissed (on the closed mouth) – one of my best kisses ever. In the meantime, everyone was throwing blue stuff at us: squash from beets with methylene blue. We looked like Smurfs.
Our (both dirty and clean) clothes were in the backroom, (cold) showers available, but with several others we decided to skinny dip in the moat in the deep of the night: the water was cold, but still swimmable. From the hospitals were towels – I still remember the feeling of “highness without drugs”. Okay, I had some alcohol, but I had been careful (I can’t stand too much alcohol).
They still do the dances and methylene blue squash (it is now officially illegal, but students will be students). I met there a dark haired girl and the dark haired boy: we became friends for life.
