The Hundred

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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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The Hundred

by Willie B Florida
comments welcome to williebflorida@gmail.com

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On the way to the studio Nik heard his own PSA on the radio. Thank goodness the station had redone the recording using a professional announcer, but he still wasn't satisfied with the wording. Maybe he'd have to splurge and get one of those high-priced ad agencies to come up with a better campaign.

"Give your child the gift of Nature. Give Nature the gift of your child. The next time you visit a Florida State Park consider that the girl writhing in the ecstasy of continuous climax under the oak tree could be your daughter, niece or granddaughter. That boy with the throbbing phallus learning to endure a full body orgasm, that could be your son, nephew or grandson. Save Florida's wild places without the aid of any pills, drugs, or hormones--simply the natural ability of the body when attuned to Florida's treasured natural environment. Contact The Hundred to strip your child for your favorite Florida natural place. Qualifies for all school-required community service hours."

Still pondering what to do, Nik turned off the electric car and pulled his naked body out of the seat. He stretched in the Florida sunshine feeling delightful tingles run up and down his skin. With a confident stride he headed toward the building. It was interview time! Willie, his grandmother's friend from way back, had somehow rummaged up an assistant, an enthusiastic journalism student who went by the single name Davane. How the curmudgeonly old man had captured the interest of such a spirited young person intrigued Nik -- but the world was full of surprises!

* * *

-- Good Morning, Nik, I really appreciate you coming in to the studio.

-- Absolutely, my pleasure. It's really great that you're getting your own show!

-- Incredible! Willie's been collecting the SFF stories for years now, but this will get them out to a much larger audience.

-- Maybe even nationally?

-- Who knows. For now it will go out on the Florida public radio network, but if NPR, PRI, APM or one of the other distributors takes it on, then any public radio station in the country has the option to pick it up.

-- Wow, can you imagine hearing about stripped kids on the radio in, say, Indiana?

-- I can dream, I can dream. But we didn't come here just to talk about me. Let's hear your story!

-- Um, I've never told it before--properly, I mean--I'm not sure where to begin.

-- Relax! This is my first show, so I'm not taping it in 'live' format. Just talk naturally and I'll edit it later. So, for our listeners, welcome to the Davane Show. I am Davane and today I am speaking with Nik Sami of The Hundred. Nike, why don't you start just the way you did the other night when I ran into you at the restaurant. You know, your great-grandmother's cake.

-- The cake. Oh man, that cake. My aunt made this cake for Mormor's 95th birthday. That's what we've always called her. The rest of the world may know her as Mattie or Dr. Jensen, but in our family she's Mormor. It doesn't matter what generation you are. 'I refuse to be any older than a grandma' she says. Anyway. my Aunt Tracie puts 96 candles on this cake, 95 for the years and one for good luck. Really crams those candles on. Nearly set the house on fire. The wax started dripping down and flowing over the top of the cake and down the sides, I thought the cake, the table and Mormor's hair were all going to go up in flames. Fortunately someone was thinking fast and popped a cookie sheet down on the whole thing. The cake wasn't even damaged once we let the wax cool and lifted it off the top!

-- That's a great story, but how did this event change your life?

-- Right . . . well, that was eight years ago. Mormor always knew how to enjoy life. She managed to make very keen observations about human nature and she often used those insights in very mischievous ways.

-- That's a generous way of putting it! Some people would call her controlling.

-- She definitely shaped the world around her.

-- Go on.

-- Well, on the day of the cake I had just been accepted into the management program at UCF. I was totally excited and ready to do the undergraduate work and then go on to get my MBA. I drove up to my aunt's place in Ocala for the birthday celebration and was planning on heading right back to Orlando the next day for the orientation.

* * *

"I've prevailed upon your mother to have you stripped." My grandmother announces. She goes on about the details of how she'd convinced my mother, that she has the chip, that I will be naked by the time I'm driving back to Orlando.

As she is talking I am doing a quick mental calculation. By the time I'm finishing as an undergrad, my time as a stripped boy will be over. I can live with being naked in college.

"Okay, 'til I'm 21, right?"

"Haven't you been listening, Nik -- you're being stripped for life."

"Oh, no, Mormor. I'm getting my MBA."

* * *

-- I wasn't upset about the nudity part. My family's roots are Scandinavian. We swim nude, do the nude sauna thing. We're not shy about bodies. No, it was the professional side of it. Athletes, dancers, bar tenders, whatever . . . if you're stripped for life it is either an asset or it doesn't matter. But the world of business is still all about "the clothes make the person," dress for success, power dressing and all that.

* * *

"I'm serious, Mormor, I'm going into business, don't you understand?"

* * *

-- Also, I was 17 years old. I guess every Florida child has it somewhere in the back of their mind that they just might get stripped one day. But the window was getting narrower, I was almost 18, and . . . well, I had mentally put it out of my mind. My grandmother has been directly or indirectly responsible for stripping hundreds, maybe thousands, of Florida children. You know those four students who were chosen for their academic record and then stripped and brought to orgasm right before being brought on stage to address a historic preservation conference . . . "

-- I don't know that story."

-- Oh, well, Willie's recorded that one. You should ask him about it. That led to the City of St. Augustine stripping kids for their 450th anniversary celebration, then to two kids from every county being stripped for the opening of the Florida legislative season . . . "

-- Oh, yes, I heard about that one, but thousands?"

-- Commemorative strippings--that's what they called those--now there are celebratory striplings: birthdays, weddings, shit--they stripped, what, 500 kids or something for a half time show in Orlando recently. All bells and whistles and technology. Kids coming in choreographed waves across the fields, fountains of sperm. It's all my grandmother's doing."

-- Wow!"

-- Yes, well, you see--with all that going on I thought I'd slipped off the radar. So, the conflagration is put out, the cake is rescued, everyone is breathing a sigh of relief, and one of the youngsters pipes up with, 'Mormor, did you make a wish?' We all laugh. I'm thinking, sure, the wish was that the house doesn't burn down. But Mormor, cool as a cucumber says, 'Yes, Danny, I did.' And she looks right through the assembled group, straight at me, and says, 'Nik, can you delay your trip back for a day. I'd like to see you in the morning. Ten thirty would be good.' It wasn't a request. It was a typical Mormor order. 'Sure, I'll be there.' And so I was.

* * *

Nobody uses the front door of my Aunt Trace's house unless it's a salesperson or Jehovah's Witnesses. The real way in is around back, down the driveway. There's an amazing oak tree behind the house. It's huge and it's branches drape over four properties. There are no fences, just the tree standing there in stately majesty with its limbs bending down in graceful arcs across the properties, the houses set back in their four respective directions. Under this tree is a boy about two or three years younger than myself, lying on his back, his body glistening with oil, on the receiving end of what looks to be a very erotic massage. The masseur is an older man -- honestly, I have no idea of his age -- wrapped in a blue and white cloth around his waist, his torso tanned and bare and muscular. He is sweeping his hands up the boy's body in long strokes, starting at the toes, running them up the legs and thighs, right across the boy's penis which seems to grow longer with each stroke. The boy's penis rises into the air, reaching for the hands which are now kneading the boy's torso and passing up the chest and massaging across his shoulder's and down his arms. The boy's penis quivers in the air. I stand mesmerized by the sight for a few minutes. I turn toward the house, feeling my own erection beginning.

Mormor is waiting for me, sitting in a lounge chair on the big back porch. I realize she has a perfect view of the spectacle under the live oak.

"Carlos, Wanda's nephew from next door. I asked to have him stripped so I could conduct a little study."

"Mormor! You can't just have people stripped willy-nilly for your little experiments. It's just not right!"

"Well, you're about to be on the receiving end as soon as Joe's finished with Carlos, then you can personally let me know whether it is so terrible or not."

The import of this remark didn't sink in until Mormor followed up, "I've prevailed upon your mother to have you stripped."

My protests are met with a quick application of the strip chip behind my left ear and details of her conversations with my mother.

"Get out of your clothes, you are to have a massage." With great reluctance and tingling anticipation I pull off my shirt and let my pants drop to the ground. It is the last time I ever wear clothes. Mormor looks up and I follow her gaze. The boy's body is undulating on the table like a great wave. Joe is holding Carlos' feet, gently, as if grounding the enormous energy surging through his body. It is beautiful to watch, and mesmerizing. I don't know how many minutes pass by before the boy settles back down on the table. Joe moves to the boy's head, cradles it, then helps him to sit up and offers him a bottle of water. They walk across the grass under the great tree and are hidden as they walk around to the house next door. Joe comes back alone. Standing under the tree again he rolls his shoulders, seems to adjust his own neck, and rubs his hands together briskly. He removes the wrap from around his waist and folds it neatly, placing it under the table. He quickly undoes the covering on the massage table and bundles it up, replaces it with a new cover. I watch him pour out a new bowl of oil from a flask. Preparations complete he strides naked to the porch.

"Joe, please meet my great-grandson. Nik, this is Joe." Our eyes meet. I was to spend a great deal of time in the hands of this man.

A jolt of electricity shoots through my body the moment Joe first places his hands on my back. Always keeping contact with my skin, Joe works warm oil into my skin with long strokes up my back, shoulders, neck and arms. He shifts to my feet, paying exquisite attention to each toe, tendon and muscle. I feel a lifetime of tension built up in every part of my foot and ankle being worked away with careful attention to every detail. My sense of time begins to alter as Joe restores each part of my body to a natural state I didn't know existed. His hands work into my calves and knees and then into my upper legs and thighs. I begin to feel stirrings in my groin, but then he shifts his attention to my lower back and then my buttocks. His hands work warm oil deeper and deeper into the complex of muscles and tendons that converge in the hip and buttock region, working tensions out of my back and my legs. He begins working the strokes in long sweeps up my legs and inner thighs and upwards along each side of my backside. By the time his hands reach under me and snake my penis out from beneath my stomach and pulls the shaft down between my legs I am already thrumming with arousal. Joe continues to sweep up my legs and thighs, his hands right alongside my penis, up over my buttocks and then reversing his stroke to massage my penis under his hands as he pulls down towards my feet. With each of these strokes I feel as though my penis grows another inch longer. My center of self moves into that lengthening shaft and I feel the warmth building up inside like a hot glowing brand.

Joe's hands move to my left side. "I'm going to guide you onto your back."

I roll over. My penis throbs in the air, pulsing with a life of it's own, erect and parallel to my abdomen. I know I'm going to shoot the second Joe starts the massage again.

Instead, Joe moves to my feet and holds them in a firm grip, grounding me for several long minutes. My penis remains engorged, but I no longer feel on the absolute verge of cumming. Joe's hands start moving, working my feet again, reinforcing the release of tension that had been so carefully worked out of my toes, soles, heels and ankles less than an hour earlier. Long massage strokes connect my feet to my shins, my shins to my knees, my knees to my upper legs. I penis begins to throb in anticipation. One hand keeping a light touch on my skin Joe moves around to my head and brings my awareness to a whole new world of tension. Fingernails move lightly across my scalp and then more deeply as Joe's strong hands move in circles across the top and sides of my head. He brings his hands under my neck and then pulls back, lifting the full weight of my head, rocking it gently. With the slightest of movements Joe slowly unwinds the kinks, releases the tension in my neck muscles, and gets the blood flowing through all the tiny capillaries of my scalp. Laying my head down gently onto the table, Joe maneuvers to the side of the table and connects my body, from toes to head with long sweeping strokes. On the third stroke he sweeps to right and left of my penis, arousing my attention once again to my blood-filled phallus. Now it is time for my face. A full face massage loosens the grip of muscles holding my eyes tight, my forehead, my jaw, even my ears! Standing behind me and leaning forward, Joe begins the work of releasing my chest. With a sudden intake of breath I feel like my body has been starved of Oxygen since I was two years old. Unbidden tears spring to my eyes and I feel an odd combination of grief, release and relief.

"Just let it flow," Joe encourages me, "let it flow."

Tears run down my face as Joe continues outward from my sternum along my pectoral muscles, and then along the gap between each of my ribs. He grips each of my nipples and gives them a sharp tweak. I let out a yelp and Joe chuckles. I'm surprised to feel the sensation all the way to the tip of my erection! Joe's hands began to kneed my abdomen with sweeps up to my chest and down along my hips. Once again my awareness shifs to my sexual center. My penis aches for touch, the more so as each stroke get closer and closer. I want to reach down and place Joe's hand on my organ, but the massage strokes along my skin and deeper into my tissues keep me tantalized. My body begins a slow undulation, like long waves rolling onto the beach. Then drops of warm oil dribble the length of my penis and Joe takes it into both hands with a firm grasp, pulling it up toward my head, pulling down towards my balls, pulling my penis straight up into the air, letting it throb and then plunging slowly, firmly, forcefully down, down until his hands meet again at my pubic bone. Up again, hold, down. Up again. The feeling is both electric and gravitational, my body hovering upwards to meet an energy field somewhere just above the end of my penis.

"Now that you're stripped, Nik, I want to let you know the rest of my plan."

At the sound of my grandmother's voice I nearly leap out of my skin except that I am already nearly out of it already with the force of arousal.

Joe's well-oiled hand grasps the bulbous head of my penis and twists as if juicing it. I let out an involuntary gasp as Mormor's voice filters through to my awareness in bits and pieces of sound.

" . . . in one hundred locations . . . exceptional natural beauty."

Joe pulls down on my shaft and then twists his hand as he pulls up.

" . . . want you to continue your studies . . . future will become clear . . . "

Joe's finger carefully presses into the frenulum and over the glans of my penis, with a another firm push into the opening at the tip. He draws his finger down the length of my shaft and then his other hand works another juicing motion around the bulb. The sensation is so intense I can barely hear Mormor's continued monologue.

". . . transformative experience over the next four years. I don't have a lot of money, but I'm investing it in experts in this type of massage and in your growth and development . . . "

My growth is all in the phallic department at the moment and I am both afraid of and highly anticipating that moment when I will shoot a fountain of sperm thirty feet into the air above me. Joe grasps the base of my penis and pulls gently down on my balls, his one hand grasping tight around the girth of my penis while his other hand draw up the full length of the shaft. He repeats the gesture, pulling my balls a little farther from the shaft. His fingers reach under my balls and apply pressure to a spot right between the root of my penis and my anus. I can feel the rest of my phallic organ--the one third or one half that lies engorged with blood deep inside my body--the part that snakes inward rather than up and outward. Joe continues to work my penis while his other hand moves up my abdomen, his fingers splaying outward deep into my muscles. My shaft seems to grow longer at both ends--deep inside me and upwards into space. My body began to undulate in slow waves. A stroke up my phallus, a hand splayed up my abdomen, a stroke up my phallus, a hand massaging up my full abdomen, a stroke up my phallus, now both hands massaging all the way up my torso and chest. A stroke up my phallus and hands massaging down my legs. The strokes continue, pulling up my erection and then spreading the sensation of impending orgasm into the rest of my body and limbs.

"Breathe," Joe intones. "Breathe, that's right."

My breath synchronizes with the strokes. Waves of sensation spread outward from my center. Joe continues the strokes along my penis and then outward, spreading the sensation down my legs, up my torso. Then it happens. My body explodes into what I describe as a slow motion full body orgasm. A have a momentary image of my entire body as one complete penis. The image fades but the waves of orgasm through my musculature increase.

"Breathe," Joe's voice is deep, calm, centering. His hands on my feet gently ground me. I ride the event as both outside observer and as the event itself, as if I were both the surfer and the wave, the seabed and the tsunami.

* * *

And that was how I got what Mormor used to call my first "attunement". Over the next four years I completed my B.A. degree in business management while every two weeks receiving another attunement to a Florida site of unique natural beauty. I travelled every 14 days to a total of one hundred places, sites famous and completely obscure, but each one a treasure of Florida's natural endowment. By the end of the hundred, I had indeed experienced a total transformation: in the sensations I feel during the massage, of my awareness of the natural world, of the sensations I feel in my own body at each and every moment of every day.

"Is that when you founded the organization?"

"Over the course of a hundred massages, and of course my education, and conversations with Mormor, and meeting hundreds of Florida residents, park rangers, wildlife conservationists, ranchers, fishing folk, water experts, you name it . . . over the course of this time it had become clear what the next step should be. But we didn't found the organization at the very moment I got the hundredth massage, no. Instead we began building up the core structure and getting more people involved. Meaning, we began stripping and massaging more young people.

"You say it had become clear to you what to do next. Do you mean The Hundred . . . the organization?"

"Yes, not just the outward name and structure, but the deeper foundation. Mormor was a cultural anthropologist. She observed that kids are out of touch with nature. Everything is too controlled, hygienic, urban. Children grow up with no tribal connection to the land or to one another. This is not entirely a new problem, but we can't go back in time to a tribal society, nor can we reuse an earlier attempt at a solution. We can't create some fictional pastiche of pre-European contact American Indian culture the way the boy scouts did it. Nor the ancestral Teutonic tribal ethos oddly mixed in with Roman Catholic and Lutheranism the way the big naturist movement in Europe did it. They were really big on stripping kids, by the way, it's very interesting to study. We can't just reinvent Papua New Guinea tribalism without the violence and misogyny, or Hawaiian sex and body-positive culture without the castes and taboos. No, we have to start where we are, build something up from what we have. What Mormor had, evidently was me. Three things, actually: she knew this network of masters of erotic energy and massage since way back when she and Willie were hanging out with Joseph Kramer, Sunshine, Annie Sprinkle, and those early erotic explorers. She had put together this list of 100 Florida places of natural scenic beauty. And she had me, her great-grandson.""

"But, you weren't her only great-grandchild?"

"No, not at all. When I asked her, why me, she replied, 'Intuition, calculation and sheer willingness for it to be. My intuition was that you wouldn't really resist--that you'd go along with it. My calculation was that you'd somehow merge the experience with your talents and interest in management and business. I knew the real fruition would come later, so I decided I'd pass out of this life with the will that something miraculous would come to be.' "

"Is it true that Willie got into the whole nudity thing because of your grandmother?"

"Well, really you should ask him. But when I posed that question to Mormor she just laughed. 'He was naked all the time! He was living next door with some other young people and I finally confronted him one day across the back yard fence. I don't care if you're naked, I told him. So you can stop running back into the house every time you think I'm home. Then I invited him over for tea, but only if he'd come over in the nude. One thing led to another and soon he was sharing his experiences with massage workshops, pagan circles, radical faeries, the gamut. In fact, that's how I first met Annie Sprinkle, through a connection of Willie's.'"

"So when did she formulate her plan for you?"

"Mormor's an interesting person -- was, sorry, I keep forgetting I can't just run up and visit her in person -- anyway, she always mixed keen observation with an acute intuition and then threw in a big dollop of faith just for good measure. She didn't really have an entire plan, of that I am sure. But she knew it would work, whatever it turned out to be. She had huge faith in letting things unfold on their own, granted that things were set up right in the first place. Of course, that's where she get her controlling reputation from, her powerful actions to set things up according to her own vision. I give her credit for a lot of important insights. One thing she observed over time was that the erotic workshops that Body Electric and Annie Sprinkle were promoting were helping a lot of individuals, but not necessarily creating community. We live in a very individualistic society, so that isn't an indictment of their methods. But Mormor wanted more, especially when it came to protecting Florida's natural wildness. If we're to get young people invested in nature, we have to tap into something really deep. Erotic energy is about as deep as you can go. When a young person comes to us, we take them straight into wild nature, strip them and immediately do the first attunement massage, just like the experiences Carlos and I went through."

"Carlos, your aunt's neighbor kid?"

"Right, the boy who was being done when I got to the house that day. He's now one of our two Assistant Directors. By the way, his cousin, Maria, is the other. So, the new arrival gets taken to the wild piece of Florida nature he or she is going to be associated with, stripped, gets the first attunement, and begins the process."

"Which is what, exactly?"

"Each child will be associated with only one Florida location. The attunement begins the process of investing their identity with a sense of that place. Awakening their own eros and the eros of the place, entwining them together. The massage awakens the child and then she goes straight into the environment. There is nothing like having a half hour orgasm and diving immediately into a spring-fed river and skimming along the bottom with turtles and fish, the sunlight playing all around you, the blue, sapphire, turquoise water a liquid gem; or paddling across a flooded prairie, alligators sunning around you and hundreds of ibis flying just over your head as they head towards their evening roost. Manatees, panthers, flamingos, owls, sandhill cranes, sturgeon, Florida is an amazing place. But the key is that each of our participants attunes to one place and they go deep. We alternate massages and orgasms with trekking, paddling and observation. They learn from experience and from expert guides. They live on site for weeks at a time and learn to live on the land. There is no artificial overlay of constructed culture, just what they bring to it themselves and what those around them bring. The rest comes from the place itself."

"So, what is the outcome you are expecting from this program? Are these kids all stripped for life? Are they going to live on the land forever? How many people do you even want to be living in these wilderness locations?"

"Most of our participants are like any other Florida stripped kid. They're naked until they're 21. That's it. We're giving them an intensive experience but it's just for a short time--however many months or years from when they begin until they aren't stripped anymore. My guess is that each of these people will be connected to their place in Florida for the rest of their lives, but in different ways: as advocates for preservation of the place, as volunteers, as donors, as recruiters of the next generation of young people. We'll have to see as the program evolves. Perhaps we'll have reunion events where adults can strip down for a weekend and reconnect on that level with the place. I have faith it will unfold in some excellent way. But as for our goals today, the program works on several levels. There's a Tibetan Buddhist practice of burying a so-called 'Treasure Vase' at environmentally sensitive sites. The contents of the vase are supposed to focus energies to improve and bring harmony to the surrounding area. I see these kids as our treasure vases. For all the hours that the boy or girl is being massaged on site, their erotic energy is suffusing the area. It is like Christian orders of nuns or monks who live in isolation praying and meditating all day--these practices are our meditation for the place. At the next level we are connecting these young people with their own full selves, and by extension to the full selves of others. Each cohort that is together at a location develop a very deep bond. They are trained to give and receive the massages--we wouldn't have enough people to give massages otherwise, but it is imperative that a person be able to give and receive. I give a massage nearly everyday myself and have learned so much in the process. So, we're developing these mini-tribes of boys and girls who will have a deep connection to one another and to the place where they attuned together."

"Do these young people also have sex while they're in your program?"

"Our program isn't about sex per se, I mean about having sexual relations with another person. Our massages are about exploring, understanding and unfolding erotic energies. But, our participants are stripped for Florida. Like all stripped kids in Florida they're free to have sex with any other stripped person they like. We don't do anything to hold back or encourage that level of connection. It's the same with recruitment. Florida kids are stripped by their parents, they are put into our program by their parents or guardians. Whether they child made the initial push to be involved in our program or the parent just signed them up, we take it from there. Our focus is on running a well-managed organization that gives young people an unforgettable entry into a lifelong connection with their own bodies and feelings, nature, and their peers."

"Your grandmother passed away before her dreams came to fruition. How did she feel about the progress of her plan while she was still alive?"

"Mormor's last birthday celebration was for her 99th year. I'd completed the hundred attunements. She told me many times how much she enjoyed the glowing, pulsing, erotic person I was becoming. We shared hours of talking together, sharing observations about society, the different parts of Florida we had experienced, nature, how to manage an organization, education, philosophy, politics. Mormor was really my best friend."

"Hmmm . . . "

"But she's still with me. We lit 100 candles on her cake. 99 years plus one for good luck. No conflagration this time -- the cake was huge, the candles far apart from one another, in proper holders to catch the wax. Those candles blazed and Mormor's face just glowed. Right after she blew them out, she looked up at the assembled group of family. 'I already got my wish.' I keep those words close to my heart. She already knew things were unfolding in the right direction."

(The End)