Date: Sat, 21 Dec 2019 03:13:28 +0000 (UTC) From: Colby Russell Subject: Lacrosse Team Wedgie Hazing First submission! If you're interested in swapping stories like this, describing your favorite scenes, or meeting for a drink, hit me up at colbyrussell786@yahoo.com. I'm near San Francisco. Lacrosse Team Wedgie Hazing I sat on a thin bench facing a row of lockers after practice. It was my first week as a walk-on to Colby College's freshman lacrosse squad. As I pulled my jersey and t-shirt over my head, I heard the varsity team walking in from their scrimmage behind me, bantering about hazing the new crop of freshmen. I suddenly felt a hand grab the waistband of my briefs, which was showing just above my blue mesh shorts. I felt a sharp yank as the waistband was pulled hard upwards a few inches, tightening my nuts as the underwear tugged backwards. "Hey, what the fuck," I started to say, twisting around to confront my attacker. As the squad laughed, he let go of my waistband and grabbed my neck -- one hand on each side, thumbs on the back of my neck pushing down, fingers underneath squeezing upwards. As I swiveled around, still sitting, I caught a glimpse of a varsity junior's jersey and shorts in front of me -- before my head was forced down, looking ahead at his knees. The pressure on my neck forced me to flip over onto the bench, face-down, my arms on the ground in front of me. "Looks like the freshman has a problem with us," I heard above me as I coughed and gasped for breath. "Let's fix that." The feet in front of me spread out a step on each side, leaving a foot between the knees. My neck was pulled forward and the knees squeezed tight, locking my head in place between the junior's legs. Looking out at the rest of the locker room, I could see everyone laughing at me -- my bare chest on the cold bench, my hands at the junior's feet, my feet on the floor on the other side of the bench. I felt both of the junior's hands now on my waistband, pulling slowly and deliberately this time, bringing my briefs above my shorts inch by inch. As my underwear got tighter and ran up my crack, I arched my back, pushing up with my legs to get my my ass as high as I could (my head still stuck between the junior's knees). As I got onto my toes the pulling continued, lifting my chest off the bench. Everyone was pointing, hooting, hollering. I hoped it was over -- I assumed this was normal hazing for a new freshman on the squad. After a couple seconds I was lowered back down and the pulling stopped, though I still felt the hands resting on my bare back, one keeping a solid grip on my waistband. "Had enough?" the junior asked. "Fuck off," I said with mock bravado, hoping to escape with maybe one more quick wedgie (but my pride intact). Instead I felt the junior's free hand reach past my waistband, between my shorts and my underwear, stretching as far as he could to grab a fistful of my underwear near my ass, playfully jabbing my hole through the fabric with one of his fingers on the way. He yanked sharply with both hands, and I yelped in pain and surprise as the force actually pulled my front waistband down below my dick, leaving my front waistband pressing back against my balls. The junior adjusted his grip to grab the legholes of my briefs, one with each hand. He pulled them each above my shorts and then together, giving me a thong wedgie that that lifted my chest off the bench again. My nuts killed, my crack was on fire, and my dick was half-hard. Then I felt a cool breeze on my ass as my shorts were pulled down to my knees, and then clean off, by one of the other upperclassmen. The junior, still holding me suspended in midair by my legholes, jerked me up and down as he laughed, the wedgie tightening with every move. People started to slap my ass with their hands and lax sticks, and when they saw my dick hanging out of my underwear they took a few playful swats at it too. The junior relaxed his knees slightly and turned, rotating my body as he did and finally letting me down length-wise on the bench, one of my legs on each side. He let my underwear go, loosened his legs to release my head, and sat down hard on my back facing my ass. He grabbed my waistband again with both hands and pulled it as far back towards his chin as he could, crushing my nuts and arching my ass upward. After holding me in this position for what seemed like an eternity, he relaxed for a split-second and then yanked again quick and hard, ripping a huge hole in my underwear, leaving my ass totally exposed with just a small piece of fabric flapping around to half-cover my nuts. Everyone cheered. I was certain this was the end. The junior let go of my underwear and bent forward, as if to get up -- but instead he reached down and grabbed my ankles with each of his hands and pulled them back up towards his chest, still sitting on my back. My knees came up even with the bench, and then above it as he pulled my feet towards his shoulders, curling my ass back towards him, spreading my cheeks and lifting my dick and nuts off the bench. The hoots and hollers started again, with half a dozen members of the squad swatting my ass, dick and balls with their hands and lacrosse sticks. "All right, that's enough," one of the seniors finally said. "Let's leave him alone -- after we give him the countdown." He grabbed his lacrosse stick, gave me a playful tap on the nuts that made me squirm, and then nudged my hole with the butt end -- not hard enough to penetrate, but hard enough to make me gasp. He counted down from five, jabbing my hole each time, the whole team counting along with him. After "one" the junior finally got off me, and I scrambled to find my shorts and shirt, throwing them on as quick as I could. I tried to laugh along as everyone went back to changing, but as the senior who counted down left, he said "Hey buddy, don't forget -- you owe me for putting an end to those shenanigans. Don't forget it."