Jeremy

Stripped For Florida: Jeremy

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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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JEREMY

by Willie B Florida
all rights reserved © 2014
comments welcome to williebflorida@gmail.com

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We're just a normal family. We live in a small town called Newberry. It's pretty conservative -- lots of churches, barbeque places, a main street, even a red brick schoolhouse if you can believe it. Okay, it's true, the schoolhouse is now a museum -- the real school is modern and is a couple of blocks away. And, we have a brand new huge and amazing sports complex including Olympic training for archery and 16 soccer fields!!!! Whatever that's all about.

My sisters are involved in cheerleading and 4H, respectively. My older sister is in high school--she's the cheerleader. My younger sister is in middle school--she's in 4H and milks goats and stuff like that. Me, I'm 14, a year older than my younger sister. I'm almost in high school -- one year away!!! I like skateboarding and drawing cartoons. People think I'm sort of emo, but I'm not. Actually, I'm gay. It's not a hugely popular thing to be in Newberry, but it isn't as bad as you would assume if you had a lot of stereotypes about small, conservative, Southern towns. Basically everyone here has known me my whole life and I sort of slowly morphed into gayness over the years -- in their perception, that is -- so people think of me mostly as Jeremy, not as gay, which is just fine by me.

My dad works for the county public works. My mother is a part-time accountant for two different restaurants and a chiropractor.

So far it's all pretty normal, right?

Okay, here's the thing. Last month I got stripped. Naked. Forever. As a birthday present. From my grandmother. In honor of my grandfather who I never ever met. And in the name of conservation. Weird? You don't know the half of it.

In retrospect I should have seen it coming. But how could I have known that Florida would pass the stripping laws; and that my grandmother would spend her money on me; or that I would become Intertwined in a land conservation deal?

My family has lived in Florida for a quite a while -- there are even rumors that my great great grandmother had at least some of her 16 kids by way of a Timucuan indian chief. But, you know how rumors go. If a white woman is going to have an Indian lover, he best be the chief! It was probably something much more mundane. The traces of all the various bloodlines do run through my family. In my case it makes it a little more difficult to cultivate the totally pale emo look. But, as I said, I'm not really emo -- I'm gay. You'd have to live here to even begin to understand why the two have anything to do with one another in the minds of middle schoolers.

Anyway, my family used to own a lot of land in these parts; I guess my grandmother is still one of the largest non-corporate landholders in North Florida. I should let you know that land wealth doesn't translate into a very different lifestyle in rural Florida. People basically all do the same things: hunt, barbeque, eat greens, fish, swim, go to church, and gossip. Some people would call my grandmother an eccentric woman, but there sure are a lot of eccentric people, if you want my opinion.

One of the perks we do enjoy is a spring-fed pond and stream right behind my grandmother's house. It is really nice to be able to jump into that crystal cool water without driving somewhere. When my sisters and I were little we all skinny-dipped. My grandmother says she was pretty wild in her youth. She and my grandfather knew each other since they were kids and wandered all over the countryside. "Never wore a thing if I could help it, at least to swim," says she. I'm guessing my grandfather didn't either. They eloped when she was 15 and he was 17, but settled things "proper" six months later and had a church wedding. "I always knew how he was, just same as you. Didn't bother me a bit. We were both wild and we loved each other."

I'm not sure how my grandmother knew. Long before I did, she said I was the queer one in the family. "Keeping up the tradition."

"But grandma, that's not how it is," I still protest. "Southerners aren't like those gay guys on TV. Either they're genteel soft-spoken pillars of the community, you know, art collectors, historic preservation buffs, those guys who run the Native Plant society; or else they're total queens, like Lady Pearl over in Gainesville."

"What you know about Lady Pearl, young man?" she asked sharply.

"I know, I know."

"Hmmpff."

"So, what about it?"

"You're as queer as they come, Jeremy. You are the spitting image of your grandfather. Your spirit, I mean. Times have changed. I know your mother wouldn't let you out of her sight long enough to wander wild like we did as young 'uns, but your spirit is wild."

For years, now, my sisters put on bathing suits, and dry off with towels, and wear shorts and tops when they sit at the long picnic table behind the house. For some reason I'm always naked.

"You can't go in that spring unless you're naked, Jeremy. It's stupid to wear a bathing suit."

"But Mollie and Sharee are wearing them!" I protest.

"I can't do anything with them anymore. But you, I like seeing you naked. Strip off and jump in."

And she would go on like that when I got out. "Just come over to the table Jeremy. You don't need to be wearing anything."

In fact, if she could badger me into it, I would be naked the whole time I was over at her house. "You're a good looking young man, I don't see what you're so concerned about. Always draping those long pants and dark shirts over yourself. When I was your age I took every chance I could get to run naked."

Let me be clear, however. These naked moments were only at my grandmother's house. For some reason, at her house she could manage to get me out of my clothes and naked the rest of the day. Anywhere else, I was fully clothed at all times. Even at home, I was clothed -- bashful even! I know in some families the bathroom door stays open, or people walk out of the shower in a towel, or even nude. I made sure I was always dressed before coming out of my room in the morning. I would change in the bathroom before and after my shower. I wore a t-shirt and boxers to bed and never wandered around the house like that.

My sisters and the rest of my family were used to seeing me naked at grandma's. I guess it had always been that way, so it was normal. Nobody commented on it and I wasn't embarrassed -- except once! Otherwise nobody expected me to be naked at home or anywhere else.

There was one very embarrassing moment, and it happened not too long ago. I guess I was 12, almost 13. My favorite uncle was hanging out at my grandma's. My sisters, my cousins and I were in and out of the water, throwing a frisbee, clowning around. As usual I was naked and everyone else was wearing at least a bathing suit. In the afternoon clouds rolled in and the temperature dropped. My cousins and sisters wrapped themselves in big towels and sat around the picnic table. My uncle put his arms out and I nestled in front of him on the sturdy wooden garden chair he was sitting on. I've always felt real close to my uncle and it felt good to have his arms wrapped around me -- especially as I was feeling a little cold.

He reached down and started gently stroking my penis. At first I didn't really pay any attention. It felt warm and good, just like his body did against my back. I was letting myself drift into deep relaxation, not really paying attention to what was going on.

"Jack him off, John," urged my grandmother from across the way.

My uncle continued his lazy fondling. I roused myself a little from my reverie, paying a little more attention to what was going on.

"Come on, I want to see him shoot!" My grandmother's voice was getting more commanding.

The hand on my penis started working a little faster. I could feel myself getting hard. This was embarrassing. My uncle had never done this before, but it felt good. I didn't really want him to stop. I just wished my grandmother hadn't brought everyone's attention to what was happening. His other hand came down and cradled my balls while the first hand began full vertical strokes up and down my hard shaft. I was glazed over with the sensations, just aware enough of anything outside of my own feelings to know that every set of eyes was rapt on my dick. There wasn't a word spoken as my uncle worked me faster and faster until I bucked my body back hard against his chest. White stuff squirted high into the air and arced into the grass. As he continued to jack me I squirted three more times, lifting my hips off the chair and gasping out loud. I labored to catch my breath as I collapsed into my uncle's lap. He wrapped his arms around my chest and gently rocked me back and forth. I cast my eyes down, not wanting to know yet what my family's reactions were going to be.

"You're a beautiful boy, sweetie, a beautiful boy," murmured my uncle into my left ear.

"Now that was a sight to behold!" exclaimed my grandmother. "I want everyone here to see what a special boy Jeremy is, you hear me?"

Getting no response, my grandmother repeated louder, "I asked, do you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," murmured my sister.

"Yes, we hear you," added my older cousin.

One by one my grandmother stared down each child until she got a positive reply.

"Well, don't forget it!" With those words I should have known something was going to happen. But that was the one and only embarrassing moment. I remain close to my uncle, and I still cuddle in his arms, but he's never fondled me again. My sisters, cousins, parents, no one ever mentioned it at all.

Which is why the events of my 14th birthday came as such a surprise to me.

* * *

"Jeremy, is there anything special you want for your birthday?" His mother was puttering around the kitchen, putting dishes away, rearranging the spices, sorting the different types of herbal teas.

"Not really, mom. I mean, not things, you know? What I want is more like doing exciting things or going somewhere cool."

"What counts as cool and exciting in your book?"

"Well, not a book -- just joking! Um, i could go camping if I had someone cool to do it with. I'm getting bored with just going up and down the streets in town on my skateboard, or just going to Fanning for the day."

"What about grandma's -- bored with that, too?"

"Mom! Of course not. I love grandma's house -- and grandma."

"That's good, because she wants us to celebrate your birthday over there this weekend."

"Okay," Jeremy shrugged. Nothing too unusual about that. If the whole family was going to gather anywhere it was usually at grandma's rambling house with the wrap-around porches, big yard and swimming hole.

"Anybody you want to invite? Friends? Anyone from school?"

"No, not really."

"What about your friend Randy?"

"He's my school friend. I like family celebrations to just be family -- it's more special that way, and I can relax and just be myself."

"Can't you be yourself at school?"

"Well, I am myself. I don't try to act like I'm anything else. But I'm quiet at school. And I don't really talk to anyone that much, even my school friends."

"That's why they all think he's emo," interjected my sister, Lizzie, entering the room.

"Gawd, Lizzie, it's one thing to hear that at school, but you know better. Why don't you just shut up?"

"I didn't say I think that -- I said that's why everyone at school thinks that," she protested.

"Just admit it, you think so too. Well, it's not true so I don't want to hear you say it again."

"It's almost his birthday, Lizzie, honey. Why don't you try to be extra special to him this week."

"I'm sorry, Jeremy. Really, I am. It's just, I wish you made friends more easily. I worry about you." His sister came around and put her hands on his shoulders, massaging them from where she stood behind him.

"I don't like people at school. I can't make friends with them, okay? Now, if mom and dad would just home-school me . . . "

"Let's not get started on that subject again," laughed his mother. "You know that's not what's going to happen."

"But, why? I'd do all my work and I'd be excited and participate and never complain at all."

"I don't have time and it's good for you to have a social influence."

"Even if I hate it? What good is that kind of social influence? Spend your day with people who don't talk to you . . . very socializing!!!"

"If you'd talk to them, they'd be happy to talk to you. They don't hate you, you know!"

"I know they don't hate me. There's just nothing to talk about." Jeremy was tired of this argument. They went round and round about it but nothing ever changed. Jeremy was good in school -- grade wise -- but it wasn't challenging, didn't get him excited, and he simply waited all day until he could be outdoors again, running, skateboarding, swimming, climbing trees. The only sedentary activity he really liked was drawing. He filled volumes of sketchbooks with doodles and even scribbled all over his own arms and legs, being careful to cover them up with his long sleeves and trousers so that nobody at school could make fun of him.

"I'll call grandma and confirm Saturday, then," said his mother. "Any choice on cake?"

"Chocolate with vanilla frosting."

"Of course!" laughed his sister. Jeremy asked for the same combination every single year.

* * *

The birthday was a birthday -- meaning, it was pretty much the way my birthday is every year. I got up, took a shower, went into my room and did my exercise routine, realized I was all sweaty and took a second shower. Nobody yelled at me for wasting water or hogging the bathroom -- I guess because it was my birthday and my family was being nice to me. After getting dressed I went to the kitchen. There was a single rose on the table and a card that said "Happy Birthday Jeremy." As I was looking at it my dad came up behind me, ruffled my hair, kissed me on the top of the head and wished me a happy birthday. I looked up and back into his face and smiled. "Happy?" he asked. I nodded. At that moment I had everything I could ever want.

My sisters bounced into the room. Okay, Lizzie walked into the room and my younger sister bounced.

"Mommy's making waffles for breakfast," announced Lizzie.

"With chocolate chips!" yelled Jeanie.

"And whipped cream!!!" added Lizzie, getting louder.

What more could a boy want? Seriously? Then my sisters decided to torture me with kisses. I don't mind, not really. After all, they are my sisters and they love me so much and I love them.

When mom brought out the waffles she made a show of being shocked at how much bigger and older and more mature I seemed. I blushed at the attention. "Party's at two o'clock at grandma's," she announced.

Everyone was there: my parents and sisters, of course. My uncle. My grandma. My mother's sister and her husband and my three cousins. That's the usual family crowd. For some reason my Great-aunt Celia was there as well and a couple of other older relatives that I see on occasion. I think they're my grandma's cousins? I'm not really sure. They're not quite as old as she is, but getting up there.

The adults sat around the picnic table and gossiped. We kids played games: horseshoes at which I am really bad. Frisbee. Tag. At that point we were hot from playing in the afternoon sun. Everyone changed into swimsuits and jumped in the water. As I mentioned earlier, I don't wear anything to swim at grandma's. It wouldn't even enter my mind anymore. I've always been naked to swim at her house and I wouldn't have anything else to wear, anyway. After swimming we played some more on the grass, swam some more. Like that.

"Cake!" called my mother. Everyone gathered around the long picnic table while my mother did her best to bring out the cake without having the candles go out in the breeze. Actually she did a really good job. The cake was big and round and glistening with white vanilla frosting and red candles. I thought the red candles were a nice touch. Naturally I was still naked. Once my clothes come off at grandma's there's no getting them back until we leave.

I made the first ceremonial cut through the white icing into the deep velvety chocolate. Then my mom and aunt passed pieces around to everyone.

"What about presents?" asked my younger sister.

"Sure," replied my dad, "you want to give yours first?"

"Okay," Jeanie replied shyly. "Jeremy, this is for you. Happy Birthday big brother!"

It was a really cool set of markers in different shades of henna colors. "You're supposed to draw on yourself with them," she giggled, "like you do anyway, but I think these are meant for it." I squeezed her in a hug and thanked her.

I got two sketch books, a decal for my skateboard, a brand new set of lightweight camping dishes that pack up in this really clever way, two bracelets for some reason -- I have never worn jewelry or anything (I know, very strange) so I didn't know why suddenly bracelets, then the next package was a very cool looking necklace -- not quite a choker but not very long. It was cool enough to make me wonder if I should be wearing more adornments (I like that word, adornments, more than jewelry. After all, none of these items have any jewels on them). I still hadn't gotten any of the BIG gifts -- what I mean is, my uncle, my parents and my grandmother are the ones that usually cook up something a little unusual or special and I didn't see any more packages. Which made me a little curious.

"Tell you what, J, come sit on my lap because I think your grandma has a story to tell before we get to the rest of the presents."

"Okay." My uncle sat down on the big outdoor chair and I nestled in front of him, feeling his body all wrapped around me. It felt good. Like that time before. I couldn't get that out of my head.

"Get comfy because I have a little talking to do," announced my grandmother. "A few of you have been in on some of this because of all the paperwork involved, but I think I should tell the story properly so everyone knows everything exactly. There is a gift in here for you, too, Jeremy." She looked at me and her eyes twinkled. I didn't understand, but let myself lean back against my Uncle's body. I felt his fingers close in around my penis and I let out a sigh. Without realizing it I had been holding my breath in anticipation, or hopes, that he might touch me again. I relaxed into the sensation and let myself feel with one part of myself and listen with another.

"You all know how much I love this place." My grandmother made a big gesture, letting us all see that she meant much more than this backyard. "Florida's been my backyard, a privilege few have any more. Your granddad and I," she looked at me, "paddled up every stream, swam in every spring, caught fish and cooked it up right beside the river. We rode our horses as far as we could and slept under palmetto leaf shelters. The land was wild, but welcoming to two children growing up into young people. There were people, too, who still knew how to live with the land and we learned everything we could. But the trains were coming in. Bill caught the train that one wild time, leaping up onto the back platform and charming everyone on board so much they let him ride all the way up to Savannah, Georgia, and back without paying any fare! He talked himself onto it, entertaining all those ladies and gentlemen in the first class club car. After the trains, came the highways and the back roads getting all paved up. In some ways there's less people living here than back when I was a young lady -- at least the towns feel emptier, all those vacant buildings, no trains arriving, nobody walking in the streets except Jeremy here on his skateboard." I blushed. "But the countryside is all scattered with homes and trailers and whatnot. It isn't as wild as it was."

My grandmother stopped and seemed lost in a reverie of her own thoughts. I wondered if she were finished and would now give me a present of some kind.

"I have been very fortunate to be the caretaker of a large tract of land," she resumed with a stronger and more directed focus. "I would like to announce to everyone gathered here today that this land has now been placed in permanent conservation status." Everyone cheered and clapped. "Let me explain. Due to the bizarre intricacies of current Florida law and politics I have been paid a large sum of money in order to save land from development that I would never, ever have allowed anyone to touch. The catch here, of course, is that your hands are tied, and those of your descendants. I would never have sold or parceled out or leased or developed this beloved land. But I'm old. I will not be here forever. What I have done is take this opportunity out of your hands as well. You are bound to the same conservation agreement. There is money from it and you can rest assured that my will divides it up fairly among all of my heirs. For the moment, however, the money is mine and I am spending it as I choose."

There was silence as everyone waited for what grandma had to tell us next. Jack's hand worked my dick, squeezing, massaging and pulling my now very hard shaft. I took deep breaths, concentrating on the strokes so that I wouldn't come too soon. It was my birthday. If Uncle Jack saw fit to give me this as my present I wasn't going to blow it by ending it too fast, and I sure wasn't going to succumb to the small part of me that felt embarrassed at being played with in full view of my entire extended family -- great aunts and ancient cousins included.

"The first thing I have chosen to do with my newly obtained cash is to give Jeremy a present." I gasped, more from Jack's ministrations than from grandma's announcement, but if there were those who had not been watching what was going on with me before, everyone now noticed. "As Jeremy knows, I think he's a very special boy. He reminds me of my Bill in so many ways. But Florida is not what it was and I'm afraid that Jeremy's special qualities could easily be squashed by present day realities." What was she talking about? "So, just as I have unilaterally decided to impose permanent conservation of land on my family, I am unilaterally gifting Jeremy with lifelong conservation of some of his beauty."

I wanted to stop grandma and ask her just exactly what she was talking about. Permanent conservation of my beauty -- that was a present? But Jack had gotten more vigorous with jacking me and I couldn't trust myself to open my mouth and speak.

"Wait, Jeremy," grandma went on, as if hearing my unspoken question, "I'll explain. Parents having to be involved, this wasn't completely my decision, but I admit that it was my idea, my persuasive powers, and my expenditure. Jeremy, I am stripping you for your birthday."

Stripping me? What did that mean? The naked thing? Like they did to kids in Gainesville and on the beach down in South Florida and Miami? The thing tourists did, making their kids go naked while they went to theme parks, played in the sand and learned to surf? I know grandma likes me naked, but that's here, with family.

My thoughts stopped momentarily at that point as Jack suddenly grasped my balls and pulled hard up my shaft. He jacked me down and suddenly I was cumming as hard as I ever had in my life. I arched my back against Jack's chest, raised my hips fully into the air and arced a stream of white sperm high into the air. Jack continued to pump me as I streamed one after another jet of sperm into the grass. I slumped back with my eyes closed and let my breath return as Jack cuddled me tight.

"Honey?" I opened my eyes to find my grandmother standing right in front of us. "May I present you with my gift?"

I nodded, still in a post-orgasmic daze.

She reached out and affixed a small sticker behind my left ear. Then kissed me on the forehead. "Happy Birthday, dearest. You're a beautiful, beautiful boy!"

"As I said," she continued, turning around and addressing the gathering, "While I have imposed permanent conservation of land upon my family members, I have now imposed permanent conservation status on little Jeremy here -- although certain parts of him are not so little as they used to be." Grandma smiled and my sisters and cousins giggled, entertained enormously no doubt by watching me get jacked off publicly. "Let me be crystal clear, Jeremy. You will not be leaving here wearing anything, nor will you ever. You see, I have paid to have you stripped for life."

Stripped for life. I didn't even know there was such a thing.

I let out a strangled sound that was supposed to be a question.

"Yes, there is such a thing," she went on. "It is still rare, no doubt because it is also expensive. A child may be stripped for life, so long as it is done before he or she comes of age and the entire fee is paid in advance. Also, there is no way to reverse the decision. I'm afraid you're a lifelong nude, my dear. One day you may thank me, even if that is not how you feel at this moment."

Everyone clapped, although a bit tenuously. No one really knew if this was a present I liked, or if it was a good thing, or what to make of the fact that one of their family members was now going to be naked anywhere and everywhere -- especially when they had to go somewhere with me.

"If the gathering will indulge an old woman for a couple of more minutes, I will finish up. Jeremy, I know that it is currently the fashion to do all sorts of things to children that are stripped, particularly to boys. You may not be aware of all the details so I will educate you quickly. Boys are stripped and nearly always kept on pills that keep their penises hard and erect all the time. Rings are put around their penises and testicles to arouse them. The penis may be pierced, metal shafts plunged up the urethra -- that's the center tube out of which you pee, dear -- or rings placed under the foreskin or the skin under the testicles. Plugs and vibrators are often placed up a boy's anus to keep him on edge at all times. This is not to mention the permanent tattoos, airbrushings, other piercings and body modifications that are done to other parts of a boy's body. I am not a big believer in all that. I have stripped you simply to keep you alive and vibrant. Just as the land can be kept in a somewhat natural state to maintain the equilibrium of an interconnected ecological system, I believe that you Jeremy -- more than most children -- need to be kept in a more natural state in order that the balance of your personality be maintained. I wish the best for you and hope that in stripping you I've kept you from hiding your best self and slowly fading away and being subsumed by the dominant ideals of society. If you should ever choose to modify your body or keep it on artificial stimulants, that is up to you, but it is not being forced upon you. Thank you everyone. I've spoken my piece and need to rest now."

• • •

The next two weeks were difficult. Not as bad as I imagined, maybe. Some good things came out of it. But it was difficult, definitely difficult. My uncle gave me a really cool gift. He and my parents agreed that I could be pulled out of school for 10 days and go on a long wilderness camping trip with him. I was really excited to go camping, to be out of school, to be with my favorite uncle. Amazing! I would have been in seventh heaven walking on the clouds except for the fact that I still had to go through school for two weeks first. Stripped. Naked. In school. In my mind the camping trip might as well have been in two years from now, not two weeks. I didn't know how I was going to endure two weeks of school. See, Newberry is not like Miami, or Flagler Beach, or even like Gainesville which is just a short commute away. There weren't any other stripped kids in Newberry -- at least not that I knew of. So, I was going to be the only one in my whole school. I had survived being a more-or-less out of the closet gay boy in a conservative town, but not a NAKED more-or-less out gay boy. I was also afraid that more, rather than less, was going to be known about my gayness by the time I finished a week or two of school in the nude. My grandmother may be all in favor of natural, but it also means that the natural proclivities of the male organ would be on display, rather than the permanent hard-on of most stripped boys -- or so I had been told. I could see the benefit of the pills. There is a big range in size of penises when they're soft, but most erections are within a narrower range of size (I do research online, you know!). So the pills eradicate a lot of the teasing about size. Then there was my worry about when was I going to get hard, and in reaction to what -- or more specifically, who? Permanent hard-ons hide genuine arousal.

My first day as a stripped boy wasn't so bad. My parents didn't insist I go to church and I stayed home all day. My sisters are used to seeing me naked, just not at home. It was a little weird getting up in the morning and realizing that there wasn't a stitch of clothing in my closet, dresser or shelves. I guess my parents had taken care of that right away. I never again saw any items of clothing I'd ever worn. My dad had explained that I wasn't allowed to sleep under a sheet or blanket until the weather got colder. I was not to wrap myself in a towel -- just dry off and put it on the rack. In short, I was never to do anything that would hide my body in any substantial way. You can wear the necklace and the bracelets. You can draw on yourself with the nice new markers. You can decorate your body any way you want, in fact, as long as it doesn't obscure your form. Okay, I get it.

The day was pretty normal and I was surprised how easily I got used to being naked. At one point my younger sister did take me aside and shyly admit that she'd enjoyed the show during my party. "It was really cool to see you shoot like that. Does it happen like that every time you touch yourself, or only when Uncle Jack does it?"

I was embarrassed at the question, but figured I'd better give my kid sister an honest answer. Where else was she going to learn about boys?

"Umm, whenever I touch myself sperm comes out like that -- I shoot -- but that was the strongest and farthest I've ever shot in my life, yesterday."

"Cool, I'm glad I got to see it." She gave me a shy smile and then ran off to play.

Like I said, my sisters are used to seeing me naked and treated me normally. At school, however, nobody was used to seeing anyone naked! It wasn't really about me at all. I was just the first example of a stripped kid and there were all kinds of reactions. Lots of girl stuff which I had no idea how to react to -- disgust, curiosity, sudden crushes, offers of dates, requests to touch, catcalls -- I had no idea nude boys were such an attraction. I smiled, waved, laughed, took phone numbers, replied "we'll see, I'm just getting used to this myself," "no, I had no idea," "um, I'm suddenly nude, but I've been here this whole time; yeah, yeah, I actually grew up here. I was in first grade with you. Oh, you don't remember?" If clothes make the man, then no clothes make you "da man" I guess.

Boys: "Hey, I'm not gay, so don't get any ideas," "It's cool, it's cool," "better you than me," "you better not be given my mamma any ideas," "whoa, show some skin, man!" That's the not bad stuff. Most guys, honestly, no problem. I think they either were glad it was me rather than them -- so they had sympathy; or they admired the way I came to school, went to class, did P.E., the whole thing with an air of normality. I was really trying and I think a lot of guys admired that.

But, there are always the haters, the bullies and the trouble-makers. "Hey, faggot, I'm gonna get your naked ass after school." "Listen up buddy, if you think this is some kind of cool shit wait until I break your bones." Some people say these are the closet cases, afraid that if they're seen being okay with a naked guy then they must be gay. But, I'll tell you, if these guys are in the closet, I hope they stay there. Seriously messed up guys, I'm telling you. My theory is it has nothing to do with being gay. I think they're getting the shit beaten out of them at home. You think I'm kidding? My family is actually nice to us kids -- even stripping me for life without so much as asking my opinion is no kind of abuse next to what some of these kids get every day. Whips, sticks, beatings, no dinner, demeaning remarks, verbal abuse. Usually all that stuff mixed together. Then along comes the preacher telling them they're going to hell and describes in gory detail a place that sounds slightly better than their home life. Well, it doesn't sound like a bad deal. These kids know they're too bad to go to heaven, but if they're just a little worse they might go to that other place -- not the hell they're living in now. So they beat up on whoever is most different that day.

So let me tell you the two nicer things that happened during those two weeks I was in school.

Being naked all the time was not quite the same as being naked at my grandma's house. But I wasn't like those people you read stories about where they went nude for the first time and even the breeze blowing against their genitals made them get rock hard. I wasn't that much of a novice. Or maybe those stories are bogus. But it was weird being the only one naked, plus school chairs are NOT made for bare flesh contact! Can you say stick? The crush of bodies in the hallways and at the lockers was a bit awkward. I wasn't sure if people were trying to avoid touching me, or trying super hard to touch me! But either way it brought my awareness to my bare skin. Still, after a week I figured I was getting used to it, and more importantly, my schoolmates were, too. I'd had a few awkward erection moments, but our social studies teacher reminded everyone that erections were not only legal for boys in public (in Florida) but even encouraged through government programs like the pills. I was a bit embarrassed to have my hard-on the subject of an academic lecture. Playing basketball I learned how much male parts tend to flop around. And, as I said, I have a newfound appreciation for how much girls like to LOOK at butts and groins. That was a revelation, even if I'm not out to get dates from females.

Friday I brought my skateboard to school and figured I'd try out my old routine and see how it felt in the nude. All week I'd simply gone to school and returned home with my sisters. But, I usually spent a couple hours after school skateboarding around the old Red Schoolhouse, on the sidewalk by the Feed and Seed Store, and up and around the area where City Hall is, built all of native Florida limestone. After school I pulled my skateboard out of my locker and hunkered out to try the curves. It was behind the Old Red Schoolhouse that they caught up with me. There was no one else around and these three guys, who I suspect get the worst of it at home, came around the corner.

"Jeremy, saw your skateboard and figured we'd find you here."

"In fact, we think you owe us, fag."

I paused and put one foot on the ground alongside my board.

"Think you're hot shit, huh? Well, you can prove it to us right now."

I didn't think they'd want my cruddy board, even with the new sticker attached that I'd gotten for my birthday. I couldn't imagine what I was supposed to prove unless they were challenging me to a fist fight -- which seemed unlikely, even from them. Then the biggest guy lunged at me. I ducked, but the other two were ready and caught me in a headlock.

"So, strip boy -- you're going to service all three of us. That's what you've just been dying to do, isn't it?"

"Aargh, let me go," I hollered, hoping someone else would hear me.

"No one's around, homo. It's just you and us. Fags like to suck cock, don't they? Well, you may not have much of a dick there, but we have three nice specimens here all waiting to shoot."

The lock around my neck got more painful.

"Okay," I gasped, "I can't do anything if you strangle me."

"Hey, let up guys, you trying to kill the guy with the mouth," yelled the largest of the group.

"I'd love to help you out," I lied, "give you each a proper BJ. I just can't do it here in the parking lot."

"Why not?" asked the big guy suspiciously, suspecting a trick. "Sam did me just last week right here where we're standing now. You think you're better than her?"

God, what bullies! I couldn't imagine Samantha did that willingly. I wonder what they have over her?

"Well, I'm not Sam -- we gay boys have our sensibilities, you know." I sashayed my hips provocatively, hoping to build up their stereotype of weak-willed gay sluts.

"Shit, man, he's really into this!" exclaimed one of the two guys holding me down. He released his grip slightly.

"Here, fondle my balls and let me see if you're for real," demanded the boss, pulling his pants down part way.

I reached out and tickled his hairy ball sac. I really put some care into it, hoping to arouse him a little and deaden what brain cells he still had functioning.

"That's nice, boy, real nice. Keep going."

After a bit he started to get hard. "I can't keep doing this with my neck like this. I'm in pain!"

"Let go of the motherfucker. Don't you hear he's in pain?" yelled boss boy.

The two guys instantly let go and I bolted. Using the element of surprise I ran for the closest escape route that emerged onto Newberry Road. I discovered one benefit of bare skin -- very slippery. When one of the guys tried to leap forward and tackle me his hands couldn't get a decent grip. He fell face forwards and I got away. I made it into the feed store and asked to call home. My mom came and got me. When she saw my scratched body and heard my story she was livid. When my dad got home a few minutes later in response to my mother's call to his cell phone he examined me more thoroughly.

"He's got bruises all around his neck, Joan. They stole his skateboard. They could have given him HIV, even killed him!"

Despite my pleas that I was okay, that they were only going to make things worse, that I had to go to school with these guys every day, not them, my parents put things into action. They called the principal at home, they called the police, they called the sheriff's office, they called every member of the school board, they called every minister and elder in their church, they called the owner of the barbeque joint! I knew they were serious when they did that. Now every person in Newberry would know the news by nightfall. Two police officers came over and began filling out a police report. They spent an inordinate amount of time examining every inch of my naked body, and then called in two more officers to do the exam all over again.

Did I say something nice happened?

Saturday morning my mother came to my room. "There's someone here to see you, Jeremy."

"Huh, who?"

"A boy from your school. He says his name is Mark, but that you probably don't know him."

"Okay." I was about to say, let me get some clothes on and I'll be right out when I remembered that I had been stripped naked. For life. Even the course of last week hadn't really sunk that thought deep into my brain yet. I got up and walked to the door where my visitor was still waiting to come inside.

"Um, hi, you came to see me?"

"Yeah, I'm Mark, I'm in seventh grade, you probably never noticed me."

I wouldn't have been able to pick him out of a police line-up. In truth, I had barely ever noticed him. But all I said was, "Well, it's nice to see you, come on in."

I was a little self-conscious about my nakedness, but walked through the house as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "You want something to drink? Milk, juice, we don't have any soda," I apologized.

"No, that's okay. I just had breakfast."

We sat outside on the back porch. "I heard about what happened yesterday." Who hadn't? My parents had been answering the phone every ten minutes. I'd declined to speak to anyone, including a newspaper reporter. "I want you to know I really support your being naked and all. I know it must be difficult. But . . . "

I waited, not knowing what was coming next.

"I've had a crush on you since last year," he blurted out. "I know you're gay and that's why they beat you up and I needed to come over and tell you."

Shit, I had no idea anyone could have a crush on me. Me? Why?

"Um, that's okay. I mean, I'm glad you came and told me. Yesterday was really terrible, and scary. I didn't know you were gay, too."

Mark nodded his head shyly.

"Do your parents know?" I don't know why I asked that. I felt stupid immediately.

"No. Nobody knows. You're the first person I've ever told." Okay, I didn't feel so stupid.

"I'm honored. I've known I was gay for practically my whole life. Is that how it's been with you?"

"Pretty much. I mean I didn't always know the word, or that there was such a thing in general. But I've always known my own feelings -- attractions." Mark blushed.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I only had a word for it because my grandmother always told me that's what I was."

"Your grandmother? Wow, I don't have anyone in my family that would ever talk about such a thing."

I nodded my head. Yeah, I guess I was lucky. "That's why I got stripped," I explained. "For some reason my grandmother thinks I'll do better in the world as a gay boy if I don't have any clothes, either."

Mark looked at me to see if I was serious and then we both started laughing. And then we laughed some more. "You're serious aren't you?" laughed Mark.

"Absolutely. That's what she thinks," and we laughed. "Really, she stripped me for life she's so serious about it."

Mark's eyes got big as saucers. "For life? Shit, I didn't know anyone could do that. For real?"

"For real. For life. No clothes, ever -- starting last week. I'm not even allowed to sleep under a sheet or wrap a towel around my waist coming out of the shower."

"Fuckin' A!" Mark sat there, obviously thinking about how life would be if there were never any clothes involved. Then he got serious. "But about those guys, they should be locked in an asylum."

"Yeah, that's what my parents think, too."

"You don't?"

"Don't get me wrong, I want them kept clear away from me. But I also think they need some help. Fag bashing is just the tip of the iceberg. Those guys are going to beat their girlfriends, their kids, shit they might even kill someone some day. They need serious help."

"I knew I had more than a crush on you, Jeremy. You're a good human being."

I shrugged. "Not especially. I just know those guys are probably getting beat at home every week. They're too young to just be thrown away in an asylum, or juvie, or some godawful teen bootcamp. Now, their parents, that's another story!"

We hung out for a few hours. My mom made us lunch and even dredged a can of Pepsi out of some cooler and split it for us. Mark asked me all about how it felt to be naked and my experiences of being gay. I didn't really think I'd had experiences of being gay, but to him my family sounded like heaven. I guess I did live in a cool family -- even though it took someone like Mark telling me so to appreciate that fact. It was a bit awkward how much of a crush Mark had on me, since I didn't have the same feelings back. But he was a nice guy and didn't seem too put out that I didn't wrap him in my arms and kiss him! All in all it was a nice morning. A whole lot better than I was expecting after yesterday's experience. I told him as much and he had a big grin on his face.

"I'm so glad I came over and made you happy!"

"I hope it was okay for you, too."

"Are you kidding? You're the first person I've ever talked to about being gay! It's fantastic."

• • •

Some say the second thing that happened changed Newberry forever. Personally, I'm not that convinced, but nevertheless it was a staggering event and completely out of left field. I certainly never expected it! Our principal was fairly low key. He ran an efficient school, which is what a fairly conservative school board asked of him. He never came up with anything shocking or innovative -- far from it. Like every principal in Alachua County he stood on the sidewalk in front of the school at the end of every school day, making sure every parent knew he was on the job. Of course, the principal was one of the people first informed about my encounter with the three bullies. My parents made sure of that. They called every person of any consequence in Newberry, but Dr. Thatcher was one of the first. On Sunday night one of those recorded messages came through our phone. It was Dr. Thatcher.

"Hello, this is a recorded message from Dr. Thatcher, principal of Newberry Middle and High Schools. An inexcusable act of bullying has taken place involving a number of our students. I am asking all parents to attend an all-school assembly which will be held at the end of the day on Monday at 3:35 pm. Please make every attempt to be there as we stand up for the right of our students to attend a school free of violence."

I was not a happy camper. I figured I had one week of school left before I could duck out and go camping with my Uncle Jack. Despite Friday's events I still thought I could lay low and make it through. This assembly promised to rile things up and raise my case to an even higher profile. It sounded like a call to arms to all bullies as far as I was concerned.

Of course my parents announced they would be there. All the students were there, too, naturally. We were kept after school and attendance was mandatory. Turns out lots and lots of parents attended as well. Some were genuinely upset that the schools were getting to be unsafe. It is a fact that most bullying happens under the radar of administration, faculty and most especially without attracting the notice of any parents whose kids aren't involved. So this very publicized incident convinced most parents in Newberry to stand up and take notice. Another cadre of parents attended because they were shocked to hear that an openly gay student was enrolled. Again, this had been beneath their awareness until now and they somehow figured the school had suddenly started promoting a gay agenda. These parents came to put a stop to all that nonsense. I'm sure almost everyone attended, at least in part, to lay eyes on this first stripped child of Newberry. Who could this boy be who came to school without any clothes on? After all, this wasn't some beach town, tourist hangout, or hippy liberal city.

The auditorium was full, with standing room only, and after Dr. Thatcher got up on stage he waited patiently while everyone quieted down.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, I'm going to get straight to the point."

Everyone waited.

"A heinous act of violence has been perpetrated upon one of our students. This is completely unacceptable. In order to make it entirely clear to everyone how seriously I take this, I would like to call two beloved persons to the stage. Brandon and Marcia, would you please join me in front of the assembly."

Dr. Thatcher waited while his own son and daughter, students at Newberry School, worked their way from their seats among their classmates and walked down the aisle to the front. A low murmur of voices speculated on what was going to happen next. I'm sure no one imagined. I know I didn't.

"I would like to introduce my son Brandon, a 9th grader here at our school. I'm sure some of you know him as one of the members of our football team."

Scattered cheers went up from the students.

"Marcia is my daughter, presently in the 7th grade. Some of you may know her from the volleyball team, softball and track. I'm afraid my children have surpassed me in sports involvement." Dr. Thatcher gave a little laugh at what was supposed to be a joke. Dr. Thatcher looked pasty and portly and it was hard to imagine him involved in any sort of athletics.

"I do not think I am giving away anything confidential," the principal continued, "in recognizing Jeremy -- please stand Jeremy." I stood up, the only naked person in the entire assembly. As I had expected, all the parents made sure to get a good look at me. "Jeremy has had the unfortunate distinction of being the first child stripped in Newberry. This was done fully in accordance with the laws of Florida and he deserved to be protected by our school, our police and sheriff's departments, and Child Protective Services. More to the point, however," Dr. Thatcher raised his voice, then paused dramatically, "more to the point, Jeremy deserved to be treated with respect and protected by the members of our town!"

"In order to emphasize how strongly I feel about this, and to raise the bar for what I expect from my fellow townsfolk from now on, I am placing my own children somewhat in your care. Don't worry, I'll still house them, feed them, watch out for their education and pay their bills. But, I expect every eye to be on them and keep them from harm. I challenge each and every parent here to follow my example."

"Brandon, would you please step over here." The tall, muscular football-playing teen walked the few steps to where his father stood next to the podium. "Son, I have acquired the necessary chip to place here behind your left ear." The principal acted as he spoke, placing the tiny round bandage behind his son's ear. "You have been officially tagged as a stripped boy under the laws of Florida. You may now remove all your clothing."

The audience gasped. Was the principal actually stripping his own son?

"Marcia, please join your brother and I." Brandon obviously had had no warning about what was about to transpire. He stood on stage looking like a deer caught in the headlights that at the same time is attempting to look composed and in control of the situation. The odd mixture was not coming across very well. But, Marcia had at least those two minutes of advance warning. In my book, she was the brave one, because after only a second or two pause she walked over to her father with complete composure and presented her ear for the sticker.

"While my progeny pull themselves together and undress, let me invite any parent present who wants to strip their child, or children, to come up on stage. I have arranged to have a representative available who will handle the ID procedure and issue the chips on the spot. This is my personal way of standing up to the bullies in our town and I encourage you to join me."

There was a rustle among the students and lots of craning of necks and gaping about. Obviously every kid there was worried that he or she was going to be chosen. A low murmur arose as parents conferred with one another and a couple of parents stepped out of the room to make hurried cell phone calls to absent spouses.

Dr. Thatcher picked up the mike again and cleared his throat. "I see that there is considerable interest in my invitation. To maintain an orderly procedure I suggest that parents come on stage and call their children up from here. Students, please remain in your seats until you are called. After all, your parent may be on stage for an entirely different reason than to summon you!" Dr. Thatcher laughed again. Perhaps stripping his kids had activated his sense of humor?

"Brandon, Marcia, it is time to undress completely. We cannot have our family setting a poor example to all these good folk. Place your folded clothing on this bench over here, as it and all your other clothing items will be donated to charity this week."

Marcia, exhibiting the same bravery she had in walking over to her father, unbuttoned her dress, gathered the hem in her hands and demurely pulled it over her head. The 13-year old stood on stage in white panties, pale blue bra and white sandals. She slipped the sandals from her feet. Reaching behind her she unclasped the bra, and pulled it off. She still stood facing the audience directly. Her still forming breasts were nicely shaped and her skin looked soft and smooth. She had the toned muscles of an athlete, exhibiting strong arms, flat tummy and muscular thighs. Tan lines clearly showed that she was often on the court or track in a sports bra and athletic shorts. She grasped her panties and pulled them down, revealing the soft down of pubic hair.

"Okay, daddy," she spoke for the first time. "What do you want me to do now?"

"You can just stand over here at the side of the stage while we wait for any other students to join us." instructed her father.

Meanwhile Brandon, noting his sister's unflinching compliance, had taken off his sports shoes and socks, pulled off his polo shirt and was unbuckling the belt of his trousers. His body had the expected built look of a football player in prime training. When he removed his trousers he was wearing a pair of dark blue plaid boxers. With a glance at his sister for moral support he pulled these down and cast his gaze at a point on the wall high above the audience. It was obvious he was taking deep breaths and trying to keep from getting hard. In fact his penis was getting thicker and pointing straight out in front of him. The surprise was that he had just the finest trace of tanlines around his groin and backside. Obviously he'd been skinny dipping somewhere, or catching rays naked in the back yard! Note to self, I wonder who else around here doesn't always wear a swimsuit!

A steady stream of parents worked their way through the crowded aisle toward the stage. Concerned students began to believe that more than a few among them would be stripped today.

Just to keep things moving along Dr. Thatcher took up the mike once more. "Parents, I should mention something particularly unusual about Jeremy's case. It has been brought to my attention that he has been stripped for life. Stripped For Life. This child will never wear clothes again as long as he lives. While this option theoretically is open to anyone I am expecting that most of you today will simply opt for the standard Florida Quick Strip. That's $45.00 a year until your child turns 21 years old. So, while some of you in this room are looking to be naked for the next few years, it is as nothing compared to what Jeremy here will be experiencing."

Students gasped and groaned. Gasped that Jeremy had been stripped for life, a fact almost no one had been aware of. They groaned that their own stripping was being considered nothing. Well, it wasn't nothing to them!

In the end 14 more students were stripped in front of the auditorium that day. You may not think that a very large number. But, consider that Newberry only has about 3,500 residents and is a fairly conservative town at that. There were now 17 naked teens in town -- counting myself and Dr. Thatcher's kids. You can bet that some parents were going to go home and strip their younger kids to match their older siblings. Yes, stripping had arrived in Newberry and it would be impossible to simply single out one kid to bully.

To my parent's disappointment, Dr. Thatcher never brought up the gay aspect of the bullying incident, nor the sexual overtones. I think a lot of other parents were disappointed as well, as they would have welcomed the opportunity to lambaste the school for sticking up for a homosexual. Dr. Thatcher so completely upstaged this agenda by stripping his own children, that there was no way it could be introduced into the assembly. Perhaps he was smart in his own low key way, transforming the potential gay rights debate into a stripping festival! Now, gay or straight, kids were walking around town, permanently naked.

If Dr. Thatcher had known that my attendance at Newberry was over at the end of the week, I wonder if he would have taken such a drastic step as denuding his own two children. That's right, after that Friday, I never attended classes at Newberry Middle or High School. Marcia and Brandon, and a bunch of other kids, certainly carried the consequences of that day for many years to come. In fact, I just heard that Marcia was being considered for a future university athletic scholarship that would require her to be stripped for life.

My parents gave me a ride home after the event. "Jeremy, you've probably realized that we haven't given you your birthday present yet."

Actually, given all that had gone on, starting with being stripped at my birthday party, I had completely forgotten.

"Um, yeah, that's okay -- it's not as if you can give me any clothes, you know," I joked.

"Well, there is something we would like to give you -- something we think you might want very much. But, we still need to work out some details. I hope you can be patient?" explained my Dad.

"Yeah, no problem." Very mysterious, okay!

"Did having some of your schoolmates get stripped today make you feel any different about school," asked my mom.

"Different? Oh, you mean I'm not the only one naked any more? Yeah, I guess that's sort of cool. But it doesn't really change the school part -- you know, sitting at a desk, repeating everything word for word the way it was given in class, blah, blah, blah. I'm sorry to be negative, but you asked!"

"No, that's fine. I did ask, and I want to know. So, school is still boring?"

"Duh, yeah . . . you think a few naked kids walking around is going to change that?"

"No, I guess not!" replied my mom.

And so, I got one of my fondest wishes as my second "big" birthday present. That's how it came to be that home schooling took me out of Newberry Joint Middle and High School forever.

THAT'S ALL FOR NOW . . .

(The End)