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Bob

Dorval, Canada

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#62
Mar 17, 2014
 
MaltaMon wrote:
<quoted text> A 13 year-old boy and his sister swim together in the nude. Their father approves and posts about it. And to you, Pedo Bob, that is all normal? In other words, most teenaged siblings of opposite sexes should and do swim together naked? And their parents should and do find this acceptable behavior from their sons and daughters? When you finally are arrested and forced to see a psychiatrist for an evaluation, you should start with that.
Perhaps you could explain, clearly and succinctly, why a 13-year old boy swimming nude with his sister at home is wrong, or immoral, or sick, or depraved, etc.
Normal, innocent behavior, except to the sickos like MaltaMon the Molester and Pedo Phil, who have a distorted, warped view of human sexuality.
Phil

Faringdon, UK

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#63
Mar 18, 2014
 
Bob wrote:
<quoted text>
Perhaps you could explain, clearly and succinctly, why a 13-year old boy swimming nude with his sister at home is wrong, or immoral, or sick, or depraved, etc.
Normal, innocent behavior, except to the sickos like MaltaMon the Molester and Pedo Phil, who have a distorted, warped view of human sexuality.
".... a 13-year old boy swimming nude with his sister.....Normal, innocent behavior"

Only a 'man' who jokes about spanking boys and makes light of child abuse would think this is normal.
Maltamon

Bath, UK

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#64
Mar 18, 2014
 
I have operated a foster home for ten years. The home takes care of children at a time ranging in age from age 6 to 16 (at 16-years-old, kids live in group homes). The arrangement is usually temporary, a few months, until more permanent homes can be found for the kids.

The our foster home had a large swimming pool. In my experience, girls are a lot more modest then the boys. Girls will wear some form of swimming atire by the age of 9 years, where boys will always swim naked, remaining completely exposed to the opposite sex. This is true for the boys who are even as old at 15 years, and evidently well developed. When older boys first move in (above age 12), they may be a bit shy about being naked in front of girls, especially since the girls of same age and younger will be clothed. Perplexily, I had heard boys complaining to them selves of being naked in front of the prepubescent girls, but not those of the same age. But after a few days the boys are comfortable with their nudity in front of girls. When the girls first arrive, particularily if they are 8 or 9 years or older, they were surprised at the nudity of the boys - especially of the boys who have obviously entered puberty.

I had also observed that boys from 12 years old had erections many times a day. It was impossibe for them to hide and all of the girls in my care could see their erections often. For girls who had first arrived, this was surprising to them, but after a few days they view it as normal. The same is true for the boys. After a few days all know that this is a normal response for boys and that the erection will merely subside.

I think for the girls this situation is quite educational, seeing the different stages of the maturing of the male body. I had overheard conversations among them discussing the boys' genitialia.

Phil

'm a 6th grade boy at a private school in Texas. We have 1st through 6th grade. There's 5 boys and 13 girls in my class. When we swim the girls wear swimsuits and the boys are naked. One boy only wears a speedo because he already has hair. The rest of us are completely naked. That's the way it's been the whole time I've been here since the 1st grade. The girls have a private dressing room with shower at the pool. Us boys just put our clothes on the benches on the side of the pool and we use the open shower near the pool before and after swimming. Our gym coach is a women and she has to supervise us all the time include shower because the boys will get into trouble sometimes.

Date Posted: Friday, February 01, 2013, 05:56: am
At our boys-only school in the 1970s we were 'encouraged' not to wear swimming trunks for swimming classes in our first two years. A few boys swam naked at the start and gradually more of us did the same. But there was always a significant number out of our class of 31 who were always in trunks. I can't imagine I'd have been comfortable going naked if there'd been girls there.
We also swam naked in the evenings (this was a boarding school) but this seemed more natural and I'd say that most boys of all ages (10 to 18) did so

Gerhard

Yes, here in Germany they do. Our high-school has the outdoor pool open for nude swimming on Sundays from now till September (I have pool duty twice a month). Mostly it's boys - typically 20-30, but some girls, maybe 5-10. The girls who come tend to be from the older years (17 and 18 year-olds), while the boys come from all years (13-18).
They swim and use changing room together without special embarrassment.
jean-rene

Paris, France

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#65
Mar 19, 2014
 
As regards the message of "gerhard" who is german; I am not surprised because I have already comen in a community swimming pool in a german town and normallythe locker rooms are lixed and everybody , boys and girls, men and women , is changing together apparently without any embarrassment.

If it is true for a community swimming pool, it is still more true in a swimming pool of oa schhol even an outside swimming pool.

it is a question of habits.

about Phil's message, we must notice that the boys were still very young since it was only from 1 to 6 grades.
Maltamon

Plymouth, UK

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#66
Mar 19, 2014
 
I stood outside the pool crouched forward, thin arms and skinny legs spread wide to cover as much wall as possible, my pubescent balls dangling like a target, waiting for the water polo game to begin. I don’t know why we swam naked, but I suspect it was a way that Mr. Jackson, our gym teacher with the “Smokey and the Bandit” mustache, could keep forty teenagers in line and submissive. There were no co-ed gym classes and the girls didn’t have to swim nude because of “female reasons,” an excuse we boys found both unfair and unsatisfying. Instead, they received school-issued swimsuits color-coded by size: the petite girls swam in red suits, the average girls in black, and the heavy girls in an odd shade of blue that everyone called “Hippo Blue”.

Mr. Jackson, dressed in sweat pants and a golf shirt, blew his whistle and tossed a rubber ball, the same red one we used in dodge ball, into the middle of the pool to start our version of a water polo match. The two teams, one in the deep end and one in the shallow, dove in and raced towards it to gain possession. Unlike real water polo, three naked, shivering goalies stood on the deck on either end of the pool. Points were scored when the ball was thrown and hit the wall below the painted black stripe, about waist high. Sean McFarland, Ryan Connolly, and I had volunteered to guard our goal on that first water polo day. I wanted to play goalie because I was a poor swimmer and guessed that anyone with the ball would be forced underwater by a bunch of naked boys trying to wrestle it free, a thought that terrified me. Sean later said that he’d volunteered because the chlorine stung his eczema, the scaly pink patches that scarred his body and made him the object of ridicule in swim class; I think Ryan just wanted to keep his back to the wall, hiding the welts that crisscrossed his buttocks and back, the angry raised stripes left by his father’s belt.

As I stood in my crouched position, determined to be the best damn water polo goalie because I was the worst damn swimmer in the entire school, I watched my classmates fight for the ball. It was impossible to tell which naked freshman was on my team and which was not. All I could see was splashed water, bare limbs and asses, and smaller kids like me and Ryan getting shoved underwater by the early developers and the kids who were held back, the hair under their arms and across their chests making them easy to spot.

Photo courtesy of Paulo Avila ( flickr.com )

The ball finally squirted free and Mark Jankowski grabbed it and began swimming towards me. No one tried to stop him; my teammates treaded water and let him pass. Jankowski was repeating the ninth grade for the second time and was the biggest kid in class, almost the same size as Mr. Jackson. Cradling the ball in one arm, he side stroked his way to the shallow end of the pool until he was about five feet from me. He stood up, cocked his arm, and yelled as he threw the ball as hard as he could. The wet rubber smacked me in the shoulder, knocking me against the wall. The ball bounced back to Jankowski, who grabbed it and fired it at me again, this time catching me in the thigh and leaving a stinging red mark. Both teams cheered as I fell to the deck holding my leg.
Maltamon

Plymouth, UK

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#67
Mar 19, 2014
 
After that, no one tried to throw the ball below the back stripe; they followed Jankowski’s lead and aimed at the goalies instead, cheering loudest when the wet rubber ball left welts, smashed us in the genitals, or if we slipped on the slick deck and went sprawling, our tailbones and elbows striking the tiled floor, our heads banging against the wall if they were lucky.

I didn’t try stopping the shots after Jankowski’s first two throws; I tried to protect myself, punching the ball away or blocking it with my forearms, and even that was painful. Ryan and Sean didn’t fare much better. One throw tore open an eczema scab on Sean’s arm and one of Jankowski’s bullets smacked Ryan right in the gut.

“What hurts more, the ball or the belt?” Jankowski yelled to Ryan as he back stroked away.

The ball finally made its way down to the other end of the pool. I squatted and hugged my knees for warmth, my thin shoulder and thigh still stinging from Jankowski’s shots, and tried to make myself even smaller as I watched the other team’s goalies become the naked targets. I was happy it was them getting bombarded and not me, and I hoped the ball stayed in their end for the rest of the match.

Afterwards, I didn’t say anything to Ryan or Sean as we showered our battered bodies, the bruises already forming; I was too embarrassed for them and myself to even make eye contact. But the next day, Ryan did something so extraordinary that it made me want to become his friend.

Photo courtesy of JasonLangheine ( flickr.com )
Swim class started normally. We had to shower before entering the pool. Mr. Tabor, the school janitor, stood in the doorway between the lockers and the shower room and Mr. Jackson stood opposite him in the doorway between the showers and the hallway leading to the pool, both of them watching us. They said they did this to keep an eye on us, to make sure there was no horseplay. Mr. Tabor grinned, as he always did, showing his dead front tooth, the faded tattoo anchors on his forearms visible, his hands buried in his pants’ pockets.

Then Ryan walked past Mr. Tabor into the showers wearing a pair of swim trunks. Conversations ended so the only sound was falling water. I turned to Mr. Jackson and saw his face darken, his Burt Reynolds mustache twitch.

“Connolly!” he boomed, his voice bouncing off the marble walls.“What are you wearing?”

“Swim trunks, Coach,” Ryan answered, soaping his chest like this was just another day.

“Why?” Mr. Jackson boomed again.

“Going swimming, Coach,” Ryan answered, his voice calm and even, cooler than I could ever be.

“Take them off!”

Ryan rinsed off the soap.

“You know the rules, Connolly. Get rid of them!”

Ryan started shampooing his hair.

“Are you going to take them off, Connolly?”

“Can’t, Coach. Swim class today.”

The rest of us slunk out of the showers and towards the pool, not wanting to be caught in the middle of this. Mr. Jackson didn’t even inspect us—making us turn for him, bend over, ensuring we’d rinsed all the soap from every part of our bodies before entering the pool; he just waived us to the metal bleachers. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Mr. Tabor’s hands were out of his pockets and on his hips, his face as dark as Jackson’s; Ryan was still under the shower.

I crossed my arms against my chest for warmth when I entered the pool area, the chlorine smell sharp in my nose. I sat on the cold metal bleachers, trying not to let my shoulders or legs touch the naked boy on either side of me as we waited. Everyone was quiet, even Jankowski and the other big kids who threw the water polo ball the hardest. I had my ear cocked, listening for Jackson to start screaming at Ryan but heard nothing.

“What are they going to do to him?” Sean McFarland whispered.

“Nothing,” Jankowski said.“They’ll send him to the principal. Probably give him detention.”
Maltamon

Plymouth, UK

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#68
Mar 19, 2014
 
ankowski’s voice was deeper than the rest of ours and carried authority. He was always in trouble and walked the halls in black Levis and concert t-shirts—Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Rush—with the sleeves cut off. The taps on his square-toed boots clicked like a warning when he went by. He wore his hair parted in the middle and down to his shoulders like we all did, except his hair was thick and blonde like a Viking’s. If anyone knew what Ryan’s punishment would be, it would be him. So it surprised me a moment later when Ryan walked into the pool area, followed by Mr. Jackson, still wearing his swim trunks. He took a seat on the bleachers with the rest of us. Jackson called attendance, spitting our names through his teeth and checking us off on his clipboard with an angry wrist flick.

When he was done, he smoothed his mustache with his index finger and then slapped the clipboard against his leg. I jumped at the sound, remembering the time he had smacked it across my bare ass for running near the water’s edge.

“As you can see,” he said,“Mr. Connolly has decided to bring in trunks today. I told him this wasn’t necessary. I could’ve borrowed a red suit from the girls for him to wear.”

Jankowski laughed the loudest.

“Mr. Connolly declined this offer and he also declined to take off his trunks and swim naked like the rest of you men,” he said, even though Jankowski was the only one of us anywhere near manhood.“So, we’re going to sit here until Mr. Connolly takes off his suit and follows the rules.”

Everyone groaned, including me. The only way to stay warm during swim class was to get in the water. To sit naked and wet on metal bleachers for forty minutes would be torture and we all knew it.

“Asshole,” Jankowski muttered, not to Mr. Jackson but to Ryan.

In ten minutes, my skin puckered into goose bumps. In fifteen, my teeth chattered. It felt as if the metal bleachers were sucking the heat from inside me, drawing it from my marrow and out my legs and ass and scrotum as I squirmed trying to stay warm.

“Just take them off, Ryan,” somebody whispered.

“This sucks,” someone else said.

“Take them off,” Jankowski said,“or I’ll beat your ass like your old man does.”

Ryan rubbed his arms for warmth but didn’t make a move to take off his trunks.

More and more kids began whispering for him to come on, to take them off, that they were freezing, for chrissakes. A Joe’s Boy, a new kid who had transferred from St. Joe’s after getting expelled, sat a row higher than Ryan and kicked him in the kidneys and whispered Come on whenever Mr. Jackson wasn’t looking.

I didn’t say anything. My hands and head shook, but I wanted him to keep his trunks on, thinking that somehow his stand would make Mr. Jackson give in and we could all wear bathing suits. But Mr. Jackson didn’t budge and neither did Ryan and we spent the entire forty minutes freezing on the bleachers. I can’t remember ever feeling so cold.

“That’s the class, gentleman,” Jackson said, when the bell rang.“We’ll sit here like this tomorrow if Mr. Connolly decides to break the rules again.”

Image Courtesy of cdsessums ( flickr.com )
“Wear ‘em tomorrow and you’re dead,” Jankowski said to Ryan loud enough for Mr. Jackson to hear. Jackson said nothing. He just slapped the clipboard against his leg.

As each boy hurried past Ryan to get to the warm showers, they made sure to bump him with their shoulder, jab an elbow to his ribs, or whisper a threat. I patted his back when I walked by. He hurried and dressed and got the hell out of the locker room before Jankowski and the rest of them finished showering.
Maltamon

Plymouth, UK

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#69
Mar 19, 2014
 
News of Ryan and his swim trunks spread through school. When I told the story, my friends’ eyes saucered in amazement until I got to the part about sitting on the bleachers, then they shook their heads, muttered what a jerk he was, and said they were glad they weren’t in that class. Ryan’s hall locker was about seven away from mine. Kids walked by, pointed, and some shoved him.

After school, I was at my locker grabbing my jacket when I looked up and saw Ryan hurrying away. I didn’t blame him. Fast-deserting hallways were a bad place to be when you were a target. The new kid from St. Joe’s flipped the books out of Ryan’s hand as he rushed by; his notes scattered across the floor. Other kids heading for the exit stepped on them. Someone kicked his history book all the way to the drinking fountain.

“Don’t wear your bikini tomorrow, asshole,” The Joe’s Boy called over his shoulder as he walked away. Some girls, sophomores, laughed.

I helped Ryan gather his papers and tried to straighten them and brush away the dusty footprints, the treads and sneaker soles clearly visible across the pages. Ryan’s face was blank, unreadable. If he was mad or scared he didn’t show it. Only his lips, pressed together in a hard line, revealed anything.

“Wearing the trunks took some guts, man,” I said, and picked up his science notes: delicate sketches he had made of the leaves we were studying—Petiolated, Sessile, Lobed—and rosebuds, shaded red in colored pencil.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, trying to shove the papers back through the binder rings.

“Swimming naked is fucked up.” I handed him his notes.

Ryan looked at me, his eyes flat, gray.“Then wear yours tomorrow.”

“What?”

“If you think it’s fucked up, which it is, wear your suit. If a bunch of us wear them, what are they going to do? Send us all down to the office? Big deal. Getting yelled at or detention is still better than swimming naked or getting killed in water polo.”

Now it was my turn for my eyes to saucer.“You’re going to wear them again?”

Ryan nodded.“And so will you if you have any balls.” He turned and headed to the drinking fountain to retrieve his history book, a jumble of notes under his arm. I stood there, my body electrified with the idea of taking a stand.

For the rest of the day, my mind kept drifting back to the idea of wearing swim trunks to class. I imagined strutting past Tabor like he and his hungry eyes didn’t exist. Different comebacks, each one cooler than the previous one, came to me when I thought of Mr. Jackson asking me what the hell I was doing. I pictured the other kids, after seeing me and Ryan in our trunks, pulling their own swim suits from their lockers and putting them on, so only Jankowski and the other assholes were standing naked with their dicks hanging out. Their stunned expressions floated before me like plates to be smashed with a baseball bat.

The next morning I hesitated before packing my trunks in my book bag, pushing them to the bottom, covering them with notebooks and folders.



I saw Ryan before homeroom, but I didn’t tell him about the swim trunks in my book bag. His black eye and swollen lip made me turn away. As I worked my hall locker combination, my fingers trembling a bit, I wondered who’d beaten him, Jankowski or the Joe’s Boy.

Or both.

I wondered how badly they’d beat me if I wore my trunks that afternoon.

Then I stopped turning the dial and stared at my closed locker. Maybe it wasn’t anybody from school who had blackened his eye. Maybe Mr. Jackson had called Ryan’s parents and told them what a trouble maker their son was and his father had decided to use his fist instead of his belt this time.
Maltamon

Plymouth, UK

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#70
Mar 19, 2014
 
My head snapped around when I heard the unmistakable sound of a body being slammed against metal. The hall went quiet. Jankowski had Ryan jacked up against the lockers, a fistful of shirt in his hand. He was shouting in Ryan’s face not to wear his trunks today, that he wasn’t going to freeze his ass off again. Ryan turned his head. I’m not sure how big Ryan’s dad was, but he must have been bigger than Jankowski because there was no fear in Ryan’s eyes, just resignation.

I was half the size of Jankowski, but if I came from behind, grabbed his shoulder and spun him, I knew I could get a punch off, one good shot to his nose or mouth. It wouldn’t be enough. He wouldn’t hold his hands to his bleeding lips and run away; he’d come for me, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. Neither I nor Ryan was strong enough to beat a guy like Jankowski, but together I knew we could take him. Ryan, I swear, nodded at me, as if he was reading my mind, urging me to do it, to spin Jankowski’s shoulder, to throw that one good punch. Then I saw Ryan’s black eye and the way Jankowski’s arm bulged in his cutoff Stones shirt, and I didn’t move. A long moment passed and Ryan nodded again, as if he was accustomed to no one saving him. Jankowski kneed him in the balls then let go of his collar. Ryan crumpled to the floor. The warning bell rang and I headed to homeroom, feeling smaller than I ever had.

For the rest of the morning, I avoided going to my locker between classes, afraid I’d run into Ryan, afraid he’d call me a coward, just afraid in general. In each class, I’d pull out a binder or text book, being careful to keep the trunks covered so no one could see them, point to them, tell Jankowski about them. I regretted bringing them, and my regret added to my shame.

I made it to lunch without running into Ryan again. There was a seat open at the table where Sean McFarland sat so I slid across from him, my tray piled with pizza slices, mashed potatoes, and chocolate pudding with perfect whip cream dollops. Gorging myself was my latest attempt at gaining weight, at getting bigger.

“You going to eat all that?” Sean asked, nodding to my tray. As usual, he wore a long-sleeved turtleneck, trying to keep any eczema on his arms and neck covered, saving the ridicule for swim class.

Photo taken by Stephanie Nebeker
Before I could answer, everyone in the cafeteria rose and cheered like at a football game. A fight had broken out. A tight circle of students formed to keep the teachers and cafeteria monitors from breaking up the brawl too quickly. Sean and I jumped to our feet and pushed to the ring of students. In the center of the circle, Ryan and Jankowski fought. Each held the other’s shirt with their left hand and traded wild right hand punches to the other’s head. The crowd cheered as each blow landed. They began chanting Fight! Fight!, and I wasn’t sure if they were egging Ryan and Jankowski on or if they were calling for others to come and watch. Ryan held his own for the first couple exchanges, but Jankowski’s size and strength was overwhelming. Ryan’s left ear was already red from the battering. He sank to one knee, his own punches lifeless now and without snap. Jankowski was holding him up with one hand, the other like a piston as he punched downward, catching Ryan above his left eyebrow again, and again, and again.
Maltamon

Plymouth, UK

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#71
Mar 19, 2014
 
I pictured myself leaving Sean’s side and crossing the distance to the fighters. I’d grab Jankowski by the right shoulder and spin him around until he faced me, like I should have done in the hall earlier that morning. My punch, crisp and clean like Sugar Ray’s in the Olympics, would smash the bridge of his nose, spreading it wide across his face. He’d stumble backward, the blood already flowing as I moved forward, driving home a left to his stomach, doubling him over in pain. Ryan would look at me from his knees. I’d meet his glance and nod before grabbing Jankowski by his Viking hair and shoving his head downward until his face met my rising knee. I saw it all so clearly, like I was watching a movie.

Standing next to Sean with everyone still chanting Fight!, my fists clenched. I took one step forward but was shoved aside as Mr. Tabor and Mr. Ring, the assistant principal, shouldered past, breaking the circle. They pulled Jankowski off of Ryan, the anchors on Tabor’s forearms moving as he grabbed him. Ryan slumped to all fours. Blood dripped from the cut above his blackened eye and landed on the cafeteria floor, the drops the color of sketched roses. He saw me staring and swallowed a few times. Kids clapped and cheered as Tabor took Jankowski away, his arm raised in triumph. Mr. Ring yanked Ryan to his feet.

“I was going to help,” I said, my voice low, hoping only Ryan could hear.“I brought trunks.”

As he was being led away to whatever punishment the school and his father had waiting for him, Ryan turned and looked at me over his shoulder.

“Wear them,” he said.

I froze, afraid someone might have heard.

“Wear them,” he said, louder, and was gone.

Kids jostled me as they headed back to their seats to finish their lunches. They laughed and said it had been a great fight, that Connolly had really gotten what he deserved, that he’d be swimming naked like the rest of us now. I don’t know how many were eating in the cafeteria that period, but I felt alone as I stood in the middle of them.



Photo taken by Stephanie Nebeker
I had a science test before swimming. The questions—naming the extended part of the leaf, defining the margin, midrib, and stem, identifying blade types—were easy and ones that I’d studied, but my thoughts kept sliding to the book bag at my feet and the trunks inside. Ryan’s words pummeled me like two tiny fists: Wear them. I had survived in middle school and so far in high school by staying out of the way of guys like Jankowski, by playing goalie outside the pool instead of fighting for the ball inside it, by swimming naked like everyone else. I knew what would happen if I walked into the showers wearing those trunks. Perhaps the beating wouldn’t come in the cafeteria. Maybe they’d catch me in the deserted parking lot, or after school at the bus stop, or in the second floor lav where Jankowski and his friends smoked in the stalls, the wooden doors kicked in and splintered so many times the school stopped replacing them. The beating would come and I was afraid.

Wear them.

Science class ended and I turned in my test with half the questions unanswered and headed to the boys’ locker room. My book bag felt heavy on my shoulder, as if it contained everything I wanted to be and everything I truly was.

I undressed in front of my locker, the floor cold puddled from the previous swim class, oblivious to the sounds and conversations around me. One-by-one, my classmates stripped down and drifted to the showers, some with towels wrapped around their waists, trying to stay covered as long as they could, until I was the last one in the locker room. I knew that Mr. Tabor and Mr. Jackson were already at their posts on either side of the showers—Jackson slapping the clipboard against his thigh and fingering his mustache and Tabor grinning his dead smile, his hands busy in his pockets, both looking for troublemakers, both watching for rule breakers, both of them waiting for me.

Stephen G. Eoannou Ball State Uni
MaltaMon

Mount Joy, PA

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#72
Mar 19, 2014
 
You're quite obsessed with me, aren't you, DJW? The last four postings, all of them yours--all of them queer pedophile fantasies that you've lifted off your favorite boy-love sites--are under my screen name. Are you that much of a coward that despite your perverted sexual fixation on pubescent and pre-pubescent schoolboys, you fear being identified as the pedophile fa**ggot that you are? If you were in my country, you'd be on prison learning what it's like to be the victim of homosexual predators such as you. Child molesters, especially older male child predators like you, are the lowest of the low on American jails and rarely survive their sentences in the joint.
phil

Plymouth, UK

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#73
Mar 20, 2014
 
Hi Ged

Those are alot of questions. They have made me think about the situation here at the facility. I am not sure I have all the answers, but I will try based on my observations and experiences. Your questions are in quotes and my responses are below.

"Do you think that most young Girls enjoy seeing naked Guys or would you say that most would find it embarrassing and offensive? Do you think the Girls enjoy it or do they just accept it because it happens?"

None of the girls have ever talked to me about being embarrassed or offended because the boys swim nude. I think the girls find some enjoyment in seeing boys of different ages nude, because it is interesting (educational) to them. I often overhear them talking about and comparing the genitalia of the boys. The older boys sometimes have erections and all of the girls in my care have seen the boys in this state. I wonder whether the older girls (those in puberty) have a sexual enjoyment in seeing the naked boys (especially if they get an erection)- I grew up with 3 brothers, and their nudity, even after puberty, was usual - so I never found nudity of boys/men to be sexual in nature.
"I fully understand that most Girls are very modest and are shy about their own nudity but I feel that most Guys are not too bothered about being seen naked specially by Females." - Yes, I would agree with this statement

"Do you think that most Girls would enjoy seeing a naked man even if they were not going out of their way to see it?"

I think it depends on the situation. If it is a place where a man should be naked (like in your change room) the girl would certainly expect to see this.
"Do you feel that the Boys in your care enjoy the nudity?"

I don't know. They don't seem to mind, becuase whenever it is swim time, the boys are the first to strip naked and jump in to the pool. Another misterpoll poster had suggested that the boys could be embarrassed when they get an erection, especially the first time. These things happen to all boys, so I don't know why they would be embarrassed. As I am a woman, maybe you could tell me...
"Do you thing the Boys and Girls would be dissapointed if it was made to stop?"

To answer your questions, I have had to think about the situation in the home. There is nothing sexual with a younger girl seeing a boy naked (or a man). I wonder if an older girl (more then 13 years old) would find the situation sexual or are they more mature and therefore wouldn't consider the sexual nature of nude boys and erections. I suppose it depends on whether the girl grew up with seeing nude boys. What do you think, should I change the policies so that only the younger girls are allowed to swim with the boys (and thus see the boys nude)?
PA DAD

Plymouth, UK

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#74
Mar 20, 2014
 
Posted by CaDad on 2009-02-10 16:58:56

Care Giver, As a child psychologist , I feel compelled to address you directly on several representations you have made over the course of this discussion. 1-Girls are not more modest than boys. As a matter of fact, boys tend to be much more modest than girls. Your observations have no basis in fact. Girls maturity growth does not accelerate over boys until they are in their early teens.The representation that boys just are not modest or do not care is completely inaccurate and any representation that boys should not be modest is dead wrong, and is harmful to the child. The environment you have created consciously or subconsciously is obviously hostile to the boys and they sense it and know it. So you don't hear the boys complaining?

Who would complain, and to who would they complain? I doubt they have any options.You have the only pool around and your an authority figure!! You have stated that the boys sense an unspoken rule they should be nude,need I say more? You don't provide any swim wear for them-so just what are they suppose to do? You could buy several sizes and keep them at your facility for other to use, but I guess you never considered that option. You also confronted a young boy and questioned him about his nudity, pointed to his gentiles and questioned him, in front of others at the pool.You stated he was nervous. No Kidding, who wouldn't be-the setting was wrong. You confronted a young male when he was the most vulnerable, while he was naked.

Your an authority figure-just what did you expect?Your a care giver, and you should know right from wrong and know what boundaries are. The moment a boy or girl becomes self aware of their modesty, it is time to clothe them.And that is usually around age 5!!! 2-This one just kills me, you are asking the girls if they are concerned, or embarrassed about male nudity. HAHAHAHAHA, what girl at any age would say yes-of course they enjoy seeing naked boys and men!!!! Girls are just as curious if not more so than boys.Sexual curiosity by boys and girls is natural, but you cater to their basest carnal interests instead of teaching them boundaries. Of course its educational for the girls , but it is at the expense of the boys. Wanna bet the boys would enjoy naked girls and women and enjoy the same educational benefits?

Just ask them!!!.How utterly completely naive of you to make any other assumption!!And the best one of all, the girls expect the boys to be naked. They have been conditioned by you for that expectation, and the boys have been conditioned for that expectation, add peer pressure and the boys overwhelming need for acceptance in a scary, new, and unfamiliar environment with a care giver that encourages the nudity and you have a situation that allows you and the girls at the compound to emotionally and physically manipulate them . Your behavior is called grooming or behavior conditioning, all terms to describe the deliberate attempt to modify a young child to the detriment or harm of the child at the expense of the child.
PA DAD

Plymouth, UK

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#75
Mar 20, 2014
 
MaltaMon wrote:
You're quite obsessed with me, aren't you, DJW? The last four postings, all of them yours--all of them queer pedophile fantasies that you've lifted off your favorite boy-love sites--are under my screen name. Are you that much of a coward that despite your perverted sexual fixation on pubescent and pre-pubescent schoolboys, you fear being identified as the pedophile fa**ggot that you are? If you were in my country, you'd be on prison learning what it's like to be the victim of homosexual predators such as you. Child molesters, especially older male child predators like you, are the lowest of the low on American jails and rarely survive their sentences in the joint.
This form of conditioning is usually done by pedophiles, and I suspect you are one of them. Now I do understand that you may encounter boys from outlaying areas where nudity while swimming is the norm, or where nudity is acceptable in a family environment, but you are a halfway house where they are going to eventually be living in completely different environments and it is your job to instill proper etiquette so they can cope with their new family's , their traditions, moray's and their lifestyles. Don't you see that? 3-You find the boys nudity interesting-I bet!!!!!!Your a pedophile-it is so obvious. 4-So you do not understand why the boys should be modest? Are you serious? For the same reason girls have a need to be modest!!!!!!!!!!Are you really that ignorant? By the way, when a girl takes interest in the male gentiles, visual exploration is usually followed by physical exploration, just because you don't see it does not mean it is not happening. The boys are in all probability extremely embarrassed by this and wont tell anyone.
Boys are very shy about their feelings in general. 5-I also want to respond to the 15 yr old male you talked to that the attention with the 2 eleven year old girls who had a crush on him.. He obviously had an unhealthy interest in the girls and the girls had an unhealthy interest in the boy. You observed them touching him. I guarantee more was going on than you told us. And this was probably going on in front of others. You obviously were uncomfortable with the situation because your attempted to intervene, but elected to not do anything in the end.. Very poor judgment on your part. 5- You expressed concern and were uncomfortable with Jeds request .You were uncomfortable with asking the girls if they would like to swim nude? I guess you just don't see the double standard here? 6-You state that the observation of naked boys by you and the girls is not a sexual thing, i would beg to differ, it is an extremely sexual thing!! Only children under the age of 5 years have no concept of nudity, or of sexuality. The others most certainly do. By the way, Jed is a voyeur , he has a problem and obviously he and you know that. It is pretty apparent to all of this reading this correspondence. It will be interesting to see if you respond. As a side note, if you wonder why men do bad things to women when they grow up,, Treat them badly, use them , abuse them, it is usually the result of abuse just like this.
MaltaMon

Mount Joy, PA

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#76
Mar 20, 2014
 
PA DAD wrote:
<quoted text>
This form of conditioning is usually done by pedophiles, and I suspect you are one of them. Now I do understand that you may encounter boys from outlaying areas where nudity while swimming is the norm, or where nudity is acceptable in a family environment, but you are a halfway house where they are going to eventually be living in completely different environments and it is your job to instill proper etiquette so they can cope with their new family's , their traditions, moray's and their lifestyles. Don't you see that? 3-You find the boys nudity interesting-I bet!!!!!!Your a pedophile-it is so obvious. 4-So you do not understand why the boys should be modest? Are you serious? For the same reason girls have a need to be modest!!!!!!!!!!Are you really that ignorant? By the way, when a girl takes interest in the male gentiles, visual exploration is usually followed by physical exploration, just because you don't see it does not mean it is not happening. The boys are in all probability extremely embarrassed by this and wont tell anyone.
Boys are very shy about their feelings in general. 5-I also want to respond to the 15 yr old male you talked to that the attention with the 2 eleven year old girls who had a crush on him.. He obviously had an unhealthy interest in the girls and the girls had an unhealthy interest in the boy. You observed them touching him. I guarantee more was going on than you told us. And this was probably going on in front of others. You obviously were uncomfortable with the situation because your attempted to intervene, but elected to not do anything in the end.. Very poor judgment on your part. 5- You expressed concern and were uncomfortable with Jeds request .You were uncomfortable with asking the girls if they would like to swim nude? I guess you just don't see the double standard here? 6-You state that the observation of naked boys by you and the girls is not a sexual thing, i would beg to differ, it is an extremely sexual thing!! Only children under the age of 5 years have no concept of nudity, or of sexuality. The others most certainly do. By the way, Jed is a voyeur , he has a problem and obviously he and you know that. It is pretty apparent to all of this reading this correspondence. It will be interesting to see if you respond. As a side note, if you wonder why men do bad things to women when they grow up,, Treat them badly, use them , abuse them, it is usually the result of abuse just like this.
Nice try, DJW, but you're too stupid, too perverted and sick, and too unoriginal to be capable of offering anything even remotely convincing. Go back to your cave, or your gay bath house, queero...
Phil

Faringdon, UK

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#77
Mar 21, 2014
 
MaltaMon wrote:
<quoted text> Nice try, DJW, but you're too stupid, too perverted and sick, and too unoriginal to be capable of offering anything even remotely convincing. Go back to your cave, or your gay bath house, queero...
Looks like yet again DJW has been spending his long and lonely nights trawling the net looking for any and all mention of children in various states of undress as part of his 'campaign', no doubt typing with one hand with his pants around his ankles and simply copying the work of others as he is too stupid to think for himself.
I wonder if his mummy know what he is doing.
It's all desperately sad.
Not a normal and healthy pastime for a mature, sane, heterosexual male, of course but then DJW is neither of these.
DAD JOSTLES WHISTLERS

Plymouth, UK

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#78
Mar 21, 2014
 
Phil wrote:
<quoted text>
Looks like yet again DJW has been spending his long and lonely nights trawling the net looking for any and all mention of children in various states of undress as part of his 'campaign', no doubt typing with one hand with his pants around his ankles and simply copying the work of others as he is too stupid to think for himself.
I wonder if his mummy know what he is doing.
It's all desperately sad.
Not a normal and healthy pastime for a mature, sane, heterosexual male, of course but then DJW is neither of these.
Phil is Virtual Viagra for the pederast of Penisylvania. Privacy now!

HS PE swimming - b'day suit

This memory came up for some reason today.

We had several sections in high school PE including wrestling, gymnastics, bball and swimming among others. This is back in the late 60's. PE classes then weren't co-ed. We did the swimming section in the nude. It's like from the dark ages or something. We didn't think twice about it back then.

Did anybody else do that?

btw, if you pissed off the instructor, he'd have you grab your ankles and nail you with a styrofoam kick board. I think that's a minimum half millon dollar settlement these days if you're lucky enough to have a teacher do that now.

Been there-done that. I graduated in 66. The girls had swimsuits, but us guys were buck nekkid. In the lower high school grades there is a big difference in development and some guys were pretty embarassed.

We did that in a public high school in the Chicago suburbs in the late 60's. The doors to the pool grandstand were supposed to stay locked, but once in a while some girls would find an unlocked door, and sneak in to watch us swim.

East High School, Madison, Wisconsin, 1969-1970. Swimming naked wasn't so bad. You just had to be careful how you entered the water from the diving board.

I graduated in 58. We never did the BD suit swimming but teachers could send you down to the PE coach with a note telling him to give you a swat or two. We always got it from a ping pong paddle. Afterward, he would initial the note for you to return to your teacher. Different times!

Mr. Fouts, my fourth grade teacher and first male teacher, delivered "swats," as he called them, with a wooden paddle, to the boys, in the front of the room. One to five depending on the offense. We saw it as a badge of honor to get swats. Sure hurt after winter recess when we'd been playing in the snow!

Of course, he'd be arrested today.

He did give me a heartache, however, when he up and married my kindergarden teacher, Miss Brown. I had hoped against hope that she'd wait for me!

Seems like a Yankee thing. The only place that I ever encountered it was the few weeks when I attended the summer camp at Hackley Academy in New York. Kids in Florida always wore bathing suits.

I only got paddled in 3rd Grade. I had 3 teachers that year. The final one for the last half of the year. I was her whipping boy. I got paddled 20 times. I can't remember why. So fat lot the paddling taught me. She was a former PE coach.
Bob

Canada

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#79
Mar 21, 2014
 
Phil wrote:
<quoted text>
Looks like yet again DJW has been spending his long and lonely nights trawling the net looking for any and all mention of children in various states of undress as part of his 'campaign', no doubt typing with one hand with his pants around his ankles and simply copying the work of others as he is too stupid to think for himself.
I wonder if his mummy know what he is doing.
It's all desperately sad.
Not a normal and healthy pastime for a mature, sane, heterosexual male, of course but then DJW is neither of these.
Looks like Pedo Phil has been spending his nights (as per usual) trawling Topix hoping to find a post from myself or djw that was not worth responding to that he could respond to.
dirty jersey wore

Bath, UK

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#80
Mar 22, 2014
 
I Saw My Teacher Naked
The Band Teacher And The History Teacher (two Stories) We were on a marching band trip, and our hotel had a swimming pool. We were all having a good time swimming. It was about 9:30, and most of the band and other guests had gone up to their rooms, since the pool closed at 10. The only people left were me and my fellow drum line buddies and our band teacher, who was a percussionist when he was in high school, so he was friends with all of us. He hadn't been swimming, so we encouraged him to get in the water. Now, our teacher, who let us and us alone call him Nick (as long as it was not in front of the other students), used to be 250 pounds, but since he was about 5' 6, it was pretty bad. That was when we first met him. Two years later, he was down to 175, but he still acted like he was fat. Finally, we convinced him to come in the pool. He took off his shirt, showing off his much tinier stomach (he still didn't have abs, but compared to the majority of us on drumline, he was thin). He tightened the strings on his trunks, telling us he hadn't bought a new pair yet. So he got in, we swam, played water polo, etc., for the last half-hour. Finally, one of the employees from the hotel came out to tell us the pool was closing, so we should get out. We all agreed. We got out of the pool by climbing the little step-bar thing (if you've been to a pool, you've seen them.) Nick was the last of us. It just so happened I was looking at him get out when the water did what it always does to swimtrunks: pulls them down a little. Only, they were so loose, it was more like a lot. It was kind of like time froze, in a bad way. I thought I was the only one facing him, but soon I realized all of us guys were staring at our teacher's junk. He calmly reached down, grabbed his trunks, and put them back where they belong, but not fast enough. We had seen everything. To his credit, it was cold, and all of our junk was shriveled and small, too. His **** was short but fat, squished to his slightly hairy crotch. His head was a reddish-pink color, and it made up most of his ****(there wasn't much of a visible shaft). His balls were what struck me the most. They were huge! I mean, they were clinging tight to his body, but still, they were massive and dark red, with a lot of hair on them. It was hard not to miss them. It seems weird to focus on his crotch, but it didn't really bother me. I was on the swimteam and went to public school: I had seen other naked junk. Still, you never really look at the balls. So it was different.
We kind of stood there, stunned for a couple seconds. "Goodnight." He told us, and left.
We weren't really sure what to say or do. Later, he assured us he wasn't mad and it was an accident, but we should probably just keep it between us. We agreed.

I go to a gym near my house, when I'm home over break. Last year, I was working out when I saw my old high school history teacher. He was a very positive guy, and always said good morning to any student that walked by. He was a very nice guy, but kind of a dork in the traditional sense. He told us he was in a Dungeons and Dragons club and he played every weekend. Somehow, despite the nerdiness, he had managed to get a wife and had had three kids (their picture was on his desk). I doubted he would recognize me, but when I said hi, he greeted me by name and knew what college I was going to and my major. I honestly couldn't believe he remembered me. We chatted for 15 minutes, and then we went our separate ways to different machines.
Later, in the locker room, I was getting out my shampoo out of my duffle bag when I saw him a few benches down on the opposite side. He was standing too far away for me to have a conversation with him.
dirty jersey wore

Bath, UK

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#81
Mar 22, 2014
 
So, I ********, hid my nakedness with a towel around my waist, and went into the showers which, surprise, were open-style, like in high school. Honestly, I know this saves money, but I really like my privacy, you know? I think all showers should have stalls. Still, I was used to nakedness, so I found an open shower, and started. A few other people entered and took up the showers next to me, but I didn't pay attention to them. My hair had kind of grown long (it has since been cut), so shampooing took a while. Eventually, the guy on my right left. I looked over and there was my former history teacher facing away from me, expossing his kind of hairy butt. I faced forward and continued showering, but of course, I heard the familiar "Hey!" when I guess he spotted me. At this point, we were close enough to have a conversation.
"Can I borrow some shampoo? I left mine at home."
"Sure, no problem." I kept my eyes locked on his. I handed him to bottle. He squeezed out shampoo and gave the bottle back to me. "Thanks, man."
"No problem."
"So how do you like being a biology major?" He had gone back to his shower head.
"It's a lot of work, but it's fun."
"That's good. I had to take a bio class in college. I didn't care for it." He was facing me, although I was still facing the wall. He continued running the shampoo through his hair, his eyes closed.
Of course, I couldn't help myself, so I took a little peek down south. I wish I hadn't.
You probably won't believe it, but it had to be at least eight or nine inches. Soft. I turned away, not believing what I had seen. It had to be some sort of trick of the lighting. I turned back to him, my eyes at his level. He was facing the drain, his eyes focused on the wall. I glanced down. I hadn't seen wrong: the guy was hung. At least that explained why he was always so happy.
We kept talking for a little bit. I kept sneaking peeks at it when he was looking. I thought I was being subtle.
The conversation sort of ended, and I was about to get out, when he said, "I hate to bring this up, but I couldn't help but notice you were staring at my genitals."
"I...uh...I..." I was at a loss for words. I looked around, thinking other guys were going to hear this conversation. Luckily, we were the only two.
"Yeah, I was." I said, finally.
"This happens a lot. You're not the first one to stare, and you won't be the last."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it, man." He was facing me again. "I don't understand why guys stare, though. I mean, it's just a penis. Mine does the same jobs as theirs. What's the big deal?"
"Well it is..."
"I wouldn't say it's huge. I mean, it looks big now, but when I have an erection it kind of just stays the same size. My wife was surprised by that on our wedding night."
"What about your other girlfriends? They weren't...impressed?"
"There are only two woman who have seen it: my mother when I was a baby, and it was small, and my wife."
"Oh."
"Yeah. I think my wife enjoys that."
"I assume she would. It's sweet."
"That's what I always thought." He paused a moment. "You know, I actually don't really like my penis."
"Oh."
"Yeah, I wish I was circumsized. I got made fun of in high school because it didn't look like the others."
"I guess the guys weren't impressed, either."
"Nah, it was average size back them. It didn't really grow until I was 17."
"Really?"
"Yeah, which was weird, since my chest hair was nearly full by 15." I looked at his chest. It was pretty hairy, a dark brown color fur with a tinge of red. No surprise there: he was a ginger.
"Isn't it suppose to be the opposite?" I asked.
"That's what I thought too. Oh well. It happened for a reason."
"Yeah. It was nice seeing you again."
"You too." He stepped across and offered a hand. I shook it. I got out of the shower, got dressed, and left. I've seen him a few times since, but, thankfully, only once more naked.

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