Stripped For Florida

Raised Nude 3

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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RAISED NUDE, PART III: SAMANTHA
EMBRACING FLORIDA

The summer I turned 13 we went to Florida. I was stripped nearly the moment we arrived at the airport. I can’t say I was surprised. Ever since I can remember my mother has talked about her adolescent time in Florida and I am pretty sure she intends for me relive the experience. To start with my mom and dad rented a condo in a gated community north of Tampa.

“These used to be nudist resorts back in the day,” my mom explained, “some of them still are.”

I shrugged. I was already stripped nude. My brothers enjoyed the pool and they were still at that age where they were each other’s best playmates. Within a very short time I found the place as boring as imaginable. Most of the residents were what my parents called early retirees, old enough to have amassed some wealth and active enough to play golf and enjoy drinking cocktails in the evening by the pool. I don’t think there was anyone in the entire place under 40 years old.

“Couldn’t you just have made me go naked at home,” I groused. “At least I have friends there. This place is stifling.”

I spent more and more time just moping around. I lost my appetite and fell asleep at random times.

“Come on!” my dad said, rousing me one morning. “We’re going to the beach.”

I pulled myself out of bed, washed my face and dragged my fingers through my hair. My enormous boobs stared back at me from the mirror. I still couldn’t believe what I looked like.

My brothers were dressed in my mother’s idea of Florida casual: kakhi shorts, white polo shirts and sandals. I was nude, of course.

We drove for about an hour through suburban sprawl and parked next to what looked like a large pond.

“I thought you said we were going to the beach,” Troy said.

“Indeed,” replied our dad.

We walked around the corner and there was the Gulf of Mexico, water sparkling in the sun all the way to the horizon. I could see that there were people on the white sand beach and in the water.

“Can we swim?” Toby asked.

“Sure!” our mom replied. “We thought you might have a little more fun here than where we’ve been staying.” She looked meaningfully at me. My brothers looked like they were excited and I didn’t want to be a downer. Still, don’t expect miracles, I thought to myself.

We found the public restrooms complete with changing areas and outdoor showers. It was immediately obvious that things were different here. There were little kids and tweens and teens. A lot of them were naked. There were girls with boobs and boys with startlingly hard erections. I realized how quiet adults can be. These kids were laughing and yelling and talking all at once. My mom shooed my brothers into one of the changing areas and they emerged with long floral print bathing trunks and we headed out toward the waves.

It didn’t take long for my brothers to start complaining.

“It’s not fair, mom,” Troy moaned, “These bathing suits are embarrassing.”

“They cover half my body,” Toby chimed in.

“We’re the only boys on the beach wearing anything.”

“The only kids wearing bathing suits, actually, boys or girls.”

“The only way to be nude on the beach in Florida is to be naked all the time,” my mom explained.

“So?” Troy shrugged. “Sounds like a good idea. I mean the weather is hot here!”

“Yeah,” Toby concurred.

To no one’s surprise our mom did not acquiesce and our dad went along with the program. Swimming isn’t that fun when you have no friends your own age, so I spent half the time we were there sunning on the beach. My brothers finally hauled themselves out of the water and spent a bit more time griping about how uncomfortable suits are, how they get heavy in the waves and sand gets caught in the crotch and the seams.

They were sent off to get changed and emerged looking incongruously overdressed among the nude youngsters of Florida. Even the unstripped children were clad in little more than bikinis, thongs, speedos and the occassional cropped T or tank top.

We headed toward the row of shops along the beachfront road, perhaps hoping for some ice cream or cool drinks. Toby suddenly points at a shop window and says, “Oh my God! What’s that yellow thing they’re shoving up that boy’s ass!”

Normally one of my parents would have protested Toby’s use of language, but in this case the sight was indeed gripping.

Right there in the display window of a store was a totally naked boy on his back in a large recliner with his legs strapped in place over his torso and shoulders. He was perhaps ten or eleven years old and the position made his anus wide open and available. Into this orifice two attendants in body tight black unitards were taking turns plunging a large yellow object the size of a large zuchinni. Whether the boy was enjoying this experience was hard to tell as his mouth was stuffed with a large red ball held in place by leather straps.

“What are they doing to that boy?” Toby asked, tugging at my dad’s shirtsleeve.

My mom glanced up at the name of the store--”Gallery C”--and to my surprise she and my dad trouped in with my brothers following right along. For just a moment longer I continued watching the boy getting fucked with the huge yellow dildo and then followed my family inside. They were already being assisted by two attendants clad in black unitards.

“Ah, this must be your daughter,” one of the attendants smiled at me as I approached the counter. “If you’ll just follow me I’ll get you started.”

I glanced back as the attendant led me down a hallway and my mom gave me a nod and a quick smile. I knew that look. It meant, do exactly as you’re told. My mom says I have more freedom than she did at my age, but it is still unmistakably clear who is in charge. What parents (and by this I mean my mom) decide, children do.

The attendant settled me down at a large plasma screen in an otherwise fully darkened room. The chair was surpringly comfortable and I felt like I was being ensconsed in a professional gaming setup. As it turns out, I was actually on target.

“You’re going to be playing a video game that was produced specially for our line of stores. There are no rules, so you don’t have to worry about doing anything wrong. I’m just going to outfit you with this special helmet,” the attendant strapped what felt like a normal cycling helmet onto my head, “and ask you to put on these mesh gloves. That’s it! The great part here is that there are no joysticks or keyboard. Wherever you look, you’ll head in that direction. It’s all very natural and in a few moments you’ll forget all about how the system functions. It works the same way with your hands. Reach, grip, point, let go—the glove translates all of that into action onto the screen. Have fun and I’ll come get you in a bit for your next activity.”

Had we just entered a bizarre fun arcade where some kids were playing video games while others were being fucked in the ass? What were my brothers doing? I shrugged my shoulders and immersed myself in the screen in front of me.

An attendant tapped me on the shoulder and the screen in front of me went dim. I had no idea if I’d been in game land for half an hour or for the entire afternoon. Somewhat dazed I was led into the bright light of the room with the recliners, the room I recognized from staring at the boy being penetrated while on full view in the shop window. Now I was placed into one of two matching recliners while another girl about my age was being settled into the other. We had a moment to glance at each other’s nude bodies and then a blindfold was pulled around my eyes and tightened securely around my head. Straps were secured around my wrists and ankles and then the chair itself was moving me into a new position.

Have you ever been so close to another person that you could feel the heat of their body, but no actual touch? I had the sense that the other girl and I were being brought that close, but no closer. Then my body came into very real contact. Some type of tight rubber contraption gripped each of my nipples. I knobby ball meshed into my labia and cradled into my clitoris and vaginal opening. My body was moved even closer toward the heat coming off that other body and then the nipple grips tightened so hard I gasped, and a second later the ball started vibrating. All I could do from then on was moan, scream and go for the ride. It was like being on a roller coaster: the only option was to ride out the experience. I know that’s a funny way to describe having an orgasm for however long it was . . . 5 minutes? 20 minutes? An hour? The intensity was the thing. The amusement park ride might just be 3 minutes long, but the intensity fills your whole being, or at least that’s how it feels to me.

I could feel the chair pulling me away from the other person. The ball disengaged from my ravished body. The rubber grips loosened and popped off my nipples. A gag was pulled into my mouth and tightened and then the blindfold was released. I was staring across a three foot gap into the hazel green eyes of the girl I’d seen briefly before being strapped into this contraption. She looked as ragged and flushed as I felt. Obviously we’d experienced orgasm simultaneously. I suspected—no, I knew—that we’d been attached to opposite ends of the same nipple grips, and to to the same vibrating “orgasm ball” as I was now calling it. We’d screamed and moaned inches away from one another and now, gagged, all we could do was look at one another and feel the aftereffects.

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That day at Gallery C changed our lives forever.

For one thing both my brothers joined the ranks of kids Stripped For Florida. Most Florida parents put their boys on pills that keep those penises erect at all times. My parents were more interested in my brothers’ backsides.

At this moment my younger brother, Troy, was lying on the sofa having his ass probed with a delicate wand which slipped through the narrow opening of his tiny butt plug. He giggled and squirmed and then got up and ran out to the balcony to see if one of his new Florida friends was swimming in the pool. One of my parents was sure to be sticking some type of tickle stick up his butt anytime we were snuggled on the couch to watch a movie or just hanging out. Troy treats it like just another fun activity, along with swimming or playing tag with his friends.

It was my older brother’s interest in the yellow dildo being shafted into the boy in the window that first drew us into Gallery C. I’m still shocked that boy in the window was able to take in such a massive probe, but Toby insists that he’ll be able to do it too.

“I’m going to get fucked soon” he tells me. “For real.”

My parents have increased the size of Toby’s butt plugs three times. They also have a special version of the anal canal plug that allows a probe to be screwed in until it touches his prostate. Except for allowing him to poop they’ve got that thing screwed into him day and night. I can’t imagine being that sexually stimulated all the time!

I was sure my mom was going to have my boobs pierced, my clit connected to one of those vibrators so many of the Florida girls are hooked up to, and maybe some type of probe up my ass, too. But for the time being all of the atttention is on my brothers for a change.

As for me, I’m in love!

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To be continued

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