Stripped For Florida: Birdwell
By Willie B.
Copyright 2012 by Willie B., all rights reserved
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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of
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
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After the DECENT laws went into
place worldwide, localities were permitted to set their own community
standards, look after their own interests, and in general carry on in a much
more decentralized world. The result was a tightening of so-called moral codes
all over the world. Even many Pacific island nations where naked little boys
had played happily in the waves for generations now banned nudity entirely. There
were some predictable exceptions, like Berkeley,
Spain; Berlin, Germany.
Parts of Russia and the Ukraine where
the naturist philosophy had deep roots continued the tradition. Florida stands out for
making nudity a tourism staple. This is not as obvious as might be supposed. First,
it is a minor miracle that Florida
remained one state. In the decentralized world of DECENT it was entirely
expected that the north of Florida, steeped in
southern culture, would divorce itself at last from the south of Florida, dually
dominated by Yankee transplants and Hispanics. Secondly, Florida has been -- indeed, still is -- a
fairly conservative place, religiously, culturally and politically. If it were
not for the clever machinations of a French emigre who changed his name to Mark
story may have turned out very differently. Instead Michael's father and his
porn-financed empire (always a conservative industry, definitely driven by the
almighty dollar!) exploited his own son as well as his own political savvy to
bring nudity and money together with such magnetic force that the two are
inseparable in the Florida
equation. The SFF booths of the Stripped For Florida program became a staple of
tourism. Visiting parents paid big bucks to strip their kids naked for the
quintessential Florida vacation; and the most
residents stripped their kids naked for entire childhoods.
But, it was the heedless life
of one 14 year old that breathed life into the Stripped For Life program. The
same SFL that changed the rules for the NBA, NCAA, NGA, and a slew of other
alphabet soup athletic associations -- although not so much for the NFL.
Goethe Birdwell (note the
southern pronunciation please: GO tee, with the accent on the first syllable)
was so named for his place of conception, the Goethe (GO tee) State Forest
near Dunnellon, Florida. The 13th of 19 biological siblings
(born to one father and two mothers), Goethe at age 14 was gaining in height,
had long, fine, blond hair and that kind of fair skin that tans up beautifully.
He could turn on a dazzling smile and he had a nicely developed musculature
that flowed smoothly over his boyish physique.
His family were members of the
Hare Krishna sect, whose headquarters are in Alachua,
Florida, just up the road from where the
family lived alongside county conservation land in Gainesville. The Krishnas
are known for large families and their insistence on modesty, particularly for
girls. The Birdwell clan was obviously a model of the first, but not entirely
on board for the second. Large family, shared rooms, and lots of sports
activities led to a rather lax attitude toward covering up. When you have 19
kids, parenting is not a hands-on experience. Instead, Ma and Pa Birdwell
excelled in delegating most of this responsibility to their children. Rose, in
particular, ended up being one of the major caretakers for Goethe, Kite,
Magnolia, Blue, and Leaf. Pepper and Sal were babies and still being
hand-reared by their parents. Rose was a young woman of sweet disposition (in
fact, every single one of the Birdwells were disarmingly sweet; one could not
imagine a malicious thought among the lot of them, including the patriarch
Birdwell, his wife, or his first wife -- now deceased), who at 17 should have
had more of a life. But, caring for a range of pre-adolescent and young teen
siblings was a big job. Also, there was the inescapable fact that the patriarch
was losing it. He couldn't remember details from day to day; had to be coached
through each step of buying groceries at the nearby Winn-Dixie; and directed at
every intersection as he drove them anywhere in the handicapped transport van
converted to family use. Mother was a bit more on the ball, but she often
confined herself to quick observations and directives shouted back over her
shoulder. Goethe blithely ignored the incapacities of his father and the
directives of his mother.
He got around town by bicycle,
public transport and hitched rides. He was a whiz at the tumbling and
acrobatics of the Brazilian martial art Capoeira where boys habitually competed
shirtless and girls wore minimal sports bras. He loved to swim, often by
climbing over the fence of the public pool late at night in the company of his
brothers and sisters. It was basketball where he excelled. He flowed across the
court with effortless motion, switching from dribbling to passing to shooting
without hurry or pause. He possessed that rare combination of aggressive
personal skill and egoless team participation. In short, on the court he was
gold for his coach. This winter he was playing on the star city team for his
age group. Of the four teams in competition for 12 to 14 year-olds, this one
team had been hand-picked to represent the city in regional and state
play-offs. The coach felt he had the best chance in years to win. He had just
the right combination of talented boys and he was working them hard. He was
determined to take them all the way to the top!
In the midst of all these
athletic comings and goings, cycling around town, clambering over fences, and
meeting up with friends, Goethe was completely heedless as to the state of his
clothing or its whereabouts, strewing sweaty, soiled garments down the hallway
from shower to shared bedroom; leaving them draped on the wooden privacy fence
outside the house; or left in the back seat of the van to rot and mildew. It
was usually left to Rose to clean up after him, get the items laundered,
mended, and returned to Goethe's shelf neat and folded. Often enough, however,
his mother noticed the mess and she was getting completely exasperated. Even
three kids not cleaning up after themselves can wreck havoc when 21 people
share a dwelling.
Goethe screeched his dirt bike
into the front yard, let it fall across the front pathway and darted into the
house to get ready for practice. Peeling his clothes off he let them fall in
sequence down the hallway toward the bathroom. He jumped into the shower,
quickly soaped down, grabbed a towel and headed back down the hallway. In the
room he shared with 5 of his brothers he left the wet towel in the middle of
the floor, pulled on his basketball uniform, laced up his shoes and ran out of
the house. He was able to run down the street, catch the city bus on the main
avenue and get to practice right on time.
Two and a half hours later he
repeated the exercise. He dropped his uniform in the hall, got in the shower
and soaped up his body. This time he also washed his long hair and wrapped it
in a towel before stepping out of the shower. Grabbing another clean towel he
dried off and looped it around his waist before heading down the hall toward
the bedroom. This time Rose was home, and more critically, so was his mother.
"I've had it up to here
with this mess, Goethe Birdwell. If you drop one more thing in this hall I'm
going to have you stripped -- and I mean it!!!"
Goethe paid no attention
whatsoever, and as he turned the corner of the hallway he casually unwrapped
the towel from around his waist and let it fall to the ground.
"That's it. Strip
him," yelled his mother in one of her over-the-shoulder commands.
Whether it was simply a matter
of taking on adult responsibilities as a matter of course, a secret wish to see
her sibling get his due or some other hidden motivation we will never know. But
Rose took it upon herself to get a Quick Strip. On the next foray to the
supermarket she went through the usual monumental task of doing the shopping
for a large family while helping her father appear to be in charge. Two younger
siblings pushed shopping carts, bringing the total to three large buggies
filled to the top by the time they reached the checkout. Rose patiently helped
her father slide the EBT card through the reader, push the correct buttons, and
count out the correct additional cash to handle the clerk. It wasn't difficult
to hand the QS card to the clerk and get the tiny wax paper envelope with the
Quick Strip sticker inside. If her father noticed the extra $45.00 on the bill
she would tell him it was for school supplies, but he was even more out of it
today than usual and the purchase slipped by completely.
At home Rose had Kite and
Magnolia unpack and put away all the groceries while she purposely walked down
the hall. She opened the door to the boys' room looking for Goethe. Ah, there
he was, right on the top bunk. How nice that she could do this right away
instead of waiting for him to get home from somewhere. He was indeed in the
bunk, stripped already by the looks of it and jacking off. Looked like he was
pretty close to coming, too!
"Hey! What are you doing
in here?" yelled Goethe. She acted fast and doubted that her brother
noticed her quickly stick the QS bandaid behind his left ear. "Can't a boy
have any privacy around here?"
"It's okay, I was just
checking if you were home," answered Rose sweetly. "I've got to go
make dinner anyway."
"Man, you could at least
knock. I've got to get to practice -- is there anything I can eat before I
"Sure, why don't you
finish what you were doing and come grab a bite." Rose smiled with
satisfaction and headed out of the room.
Goethe felt distracted from his
original mission. Giving up he jumped off the top bank in a forward flip,
landed on his feet and arched carefully back into a backbend. He pulled on his
basketball jersey, athletic supporter, shorts, basketball socks and shoes. Leaping
up he gave the fan pull a flick and ran down the hall to the kitchen. Rose
gestured toward a plate of food, which he wolfed down before heading out to the
The bus pulled up, the usual
driver waiting for him to board. Just as he stepped up a yellow light flashed
and a buzzer went off.
"You been stripped boy,
you can't get on my bus like that."
"You know the rules. You
been stripped. Why do you think that light's going off? That's a sensor. You
can't get on the bus like that. Strip it off or you need to step down right
"What the . . . I'm not
stripped. You see me every day. I just need to get to practice."
"I may see you every day,
but I don't know nothin' about you gettin' stripped or not. Now step off the
bus; you keepin' all these people waiting."
"I can't be late -- what
am I going to do?"
"Just strip off and get on
board. If there's some confusion you can take care of it later. Either that or
step down." The bus driver put the bus in gear and made a menacing sound
with the engine.
"Okay, man, okay, just let
me get this stuff off. I can't be late, we're having an important game."
A flustered and very naked
Goethe hugged his bundled clothes under his arm and started down the aisle. The
bus driver started the bus up suddenly, sending Goethe reeling down the aisle. A
few of the passengers chuckled at the sight of the naked boy trying to keep his
footing. In fact, the bus riders found the whole episode rather amusing and
couldn't help noting that this was a very good looking naked boy.
Goethe sat in his chair looking
out the window and trying to figure out what in the world was going on. Well,
he'd just put his uniform back on when he got off the bus and head to practice.
It was probably a broken sensor or something, but why should he have to strip
naked in front of all these people just because some electronics had gone
The bus pulled up on Waldo Road. Across
the field was the M.L. King
Center where the indoor
courts were. Before getting within good visual distance of his team mates
Goethe quickly pulled his clothes back on and loped across the grass. He headed
up the wide walkway to the double doors of the gymnasium and was about to dart
inside when another yellow light started flashing. An alarm started sounding,
much louder than the one on the bus. Immediately two of the staff from the
front office stepped into the entryway.
"Oh, it's you Goethe. I
didn't know you'd been stripped," remarked Miss Carter, one of the younger
and perkier staff assistants. "You better undress before you come in
"No, its some malfunction.
I haven't been stripped. I swear." protested Goethe.
"Why don't you come in the
office. We can resolve the matter quite quickly," said the senior staffer,
a coach named Albertson. "Miss Carter, will you turn off the alarm,
Standing in the office, Goethe
allowed himself to be inspected. In no time flat Coach Albertson had located
the QS bandaid. "Goethe, it's right here. You haven't even taken off the
bandaid. Without that I'd have to use a handheld sensor to pick up the embedded
microchip, but this is as plain as day! By the way, you can take the bandaid
off anytime you like. The chip is well implanted by now."
"You mean I've been
stripped?" asked Goethe incredulously. For the first time it actually
penetrated his consciousness that the unthinkable might have happened.
"Yes, son, you have been
stripped," replied Coach solemnly. "Now, I must ask you to remove
your clothes completely. You might as well leave them here as you won't be
wearing them again for quite some time. You are allowed to wear shoes if you
like, although they are not strictly required for practice now that you are a
Stripped. I wouldn't dawdle if I were you. Your team has a big game tonight and
your coach is waiting."
Naked and feeling much more
vulnerable and exposed than he had on the bus, Goethe walked out of the office,
across the hall and into the large gymnasium. The room had been reconfigured,
turning two basketball courts into one with bleachers folded down on either
side to accommodate a rowdy crowd of spectators and fans. Goethe looked around
and was sure he was the only naked person in the room. This was East
Gainesville and religious sensibilities, gangsta fashion, and tighter monetary
priorities had all contributed to a complete indifference to Stripped for Florida. Instead the
room was full of long black t-shirts, baggy pants, black do-rags, and the
occasional gold or silver chain. Goethe's team was practicing at one end of the
court, outfitted in the blue and white of the Gainesville Magic. The opposing
team from Starke was clad in red and black and was practicing at the other end
of the court. Goethe knew they were a pretty good team, even if they did hail
from the rundown town that was most famous for the state's electric chair.
Goethe was roused from his
observations by a heavy hand clamping down on his shoulder. "What's with
the nude, boy!" growled his coach, "You need to be suited up and
ready -- the game's no joke tonight!"
"I've been stripped -- I
mean, somebody stripped me!"
"What do you mean,
somebody stripped you? Only two people can strip you, your ma or your pa! Hell,
what am I going to do with you like that? Go sit on the bench. I'll figure this
Dejectedly Goethe walked over
to the bench and tried to make himself disappear. Actually, very few people
gave notice. It was not at all clear to anyone that this naked child was on one
of the teams, and people were really revving it up over the upcoming match. The
referees blew their whistles to clear the courts and both teams went into a
final huddle before the match. Five team members went out onto the boards and
the rest of the team sat at the opposite end of the bench, leaving Goethe alone
at the other end. His coach totally ignored him.
The game got off to a quick
start in favor of the Magic when Kyle made a dash up the court, passed the ball
to Monsef who tossed it neatly through the basket before Starke could get a
handle on what was happening. After that the red and black team seemed to get
their act together and the two sides traded points evenly until just before the
half. The Magic were still ahead and one minute was left on the clock when a
suddenly more aggressive Starke, in a push to close the gap before the half,
rushed one of the Magic's best players who sprawled awkwardly on the court. The
referee's whistle was instant, but Rafik couldn't get up. The coach, two
referees and the medic gathered around him, and then, hoisting him over the
shoulders of two of the men they walked him to the bench. The verdict was not
good. Rafik wouldn't be playing the rest of the game.
As halftime began, Goethe
decided he should approach the coach and at least find out whether he should
move to the stands. But coach was preoccupied with Rafik and looked to be in a
very bad mood. His spirits didn't improve when play resumed and the Magic
quickly fell behind. The players were getting more demoralized by the minute
and when the third quarter ended they were down by 12 points. Coach Thomas came
over and sat on the bench next to Goethe.
"Listen up. I'm going to
put you into play. I am not at all sure about this nudity thing . . . really
wanted some time to think this through. One naked kid on a team isn't a good
thing for unity or discipline. You're not wearing the team colors, and I don't
like the fact that your parents are so not on board about your playing that
they would even consider doing this to you." Coach held up his hand when
Goethe tried to respond. "But, those are considerations for another day. Right
now I need you to go in and play your best. Bryan's mom had to take him to a family
funeral. Rafik is injured. And frankly, a few of the other guys are so
depressed they're not playing their best anymore. You've been sitting here the
whole game. Do you think you can play?"
Did coach think he could play? Of
course he could play!!! He forgot all about being stripped, he even forgot he
was naked. Hell, let me on the court!!!
Coach grinned and gave him a
swat on the behind as he ran out to play.
Play he did! His enthusiasm and
. . . yes, let's be honest . . . his grace, won over his team mates and spurred
them on to a near victory. They lost by one point. But something else happened
on the basketball court that day that was to change the game plan for Florida. Goethe flowed
across the court with his usual mix of boyish energy and balanced movement. He
included his team mates when he had the ball and stood back and blocked and
positioned himself when he didn't. He played so well he forgot he had no
uniform on, no shoes on his feet, nothing but the body he was born with. But
the spectators were not so forgetful. They saw something that they would never
forget. Grace of movement, grace of motion, grace of a body freed from the
fetters and unnatural contours and outlines of fabric and leather, rubber and
Melissa Evans saw a blond
Olympian boy god on the court that evening and vowed she would strip her son
Kyle the moment she got a chance. Yes, she'd stop at the Quickmart on the way
home, pick up a Quick Strip and patch it on Kyle while he showered off the
sweat and grime of the game. She wanted to see her own son move like an
Rhonda Chalmers saw a boy who
would never be able to join a gang. He was beautiful in his strength and skill.
She could imagine him growing up to be a youth that younger boys would admire. A
man that inspired love of sport. Without the trappings of clothes he just
couldn't have the right mix of attitude and street tough to be in a gang. She decided
right then and there that she was going to save her own son, Monsef, from any
possibility of being a ghetto gangsta, street tough, pimp, dope dealer, or
whatever other fate was mixed up in sagging, hanging, dragging his cloth-draped
self down the gang-ruled sidewalks of the neighborhood. She'd stop by the
24-hour Winn-Dixie on the way home and buy one of those QS chips. She'd paste
it on right behind his ear before he could even protest. She was so energized
at the thought that she nearly left the M.L. King Center
When Goethe got home he was
still feeling the adrenaline high from the game, and something else, too. What
was it? He felt lighter, and brisker. The Florida humidity didn't seem so oppressive. There
was a jaunt in his step and he enjoyed the breeze across his chest, through his
legs and across his balls. His penis bobbed and swayed as he walked. That was
it. He was enjoying being a stripped and naked boy. He waltzed into his room
and cartwheeled across the floor. He noticed that his clothing shelf was
totally bare. His bunk had no top sheet. He shrugged. Whatever -- he was naked
now and it was not a punishment, not an embarrassment. He'd played basketball
in front of an entire gymnasium -- the only naked boy on the court. The only
naked person in the entire place! He felt so good he hoisted himself up onto
his bunk, sat with his legs wide and gave himself a few good hard pulls into
erection and really got into enjoying a full-blown masturbation session. Five boys
sharing a bedroom had long since gotten over that kind of shyness, I can tell
you. And besides, Goethe was feeling on top of the world. At that moment Rose
walked in. Geez, did she plan these intrusions?!
"Hey sis, if you don't
want to watch you should ask before you come in," teased Goethe, still
full of himself after his naked quarter on the court.
"It's alright. I just
wanted to apologize if I got you in trouble with your coach. I didn't realize
you had the big game tonight."
"You, apologize? For
what?" asked Goethe in confusion.
"Well, I'm the one who put
the Quick Strip on you. I've been feeling guilty. Mom sort of told me to do it
-- and Pa paid for it -- but I am the one who really made it happen. Now you're
stripped . . . and -- I'm sorry." Rose looked up at him with a question in
Goethe continued to idly stroke
his erection. His sister really didn't seem too worried about that. Instead she
was apologizing for getting Goethe into something he was in the middle of
celebrating! Should he draw it out and make her feel even worse? It could be
worth something in the future if he played it right.
Goethe gave a big grin. "I
can't help it Rose. I know I should just string you along and get some big
favor from you because you feel so guilty. But, the truth is, I forgot I was
naked. I ran onto the court in the final quarter and played the best basketball
I've ever played. I feel so good in my body, so light and energetic and . . .
" he stroked his penis and grinned even more, " . . . and sexy. Really
I should be the one doing you favors. Thank you Rose. I don't know much about
the whole Quick Strip deal. I've never really met anyone personally who has
been stripped, but I'm kinda getting why parents are supposed to do it without
their kid's permission. It's a wonderful gift, but I would never have let
someone do it to me if they'd asked me first."
"Wow," mused Rose.
"You're almost convincing me I should be stripped!"
The day after the Magic lost to
Starke, three players showed up for practice naked, Goethe, Kyle and Monsef. "What's
going on," growled Coach Thomas. "You all catching the same virus or
something?" But he played them all in practice as if nothing were amiss.
By the end of the week three
more players had been stripped. Coach Thomas decided to find out what was going
on. The only phone call that yielded no clarity was to Goethe's house. His
father didn't seem to know who Coach Thomas was or that Goethe was even playing
ball. The girl who got on the phone afterwards would only say that she was glad
Goethe was okay with being stripped. The other calls were more illuminating. Kyle's
mother said she was overjoyed to see her son's body again and that she knew
she'd given him the best gift she could at this time in his life. She would
recommend it to any mother. Monsef's mother was eloquent in her insistence that
any parent should set their son right by stripping him of the trappings of
drugs, gangs and violence. "We must take back our boys from early death,
crime and prison. I'm out preaching the virtues of stripping." The other
calls echoed more of the same.
Coach Thomas was also hearing
from some of the fans that hung around the Center. Why not strip the whole
team, they suggested. Take a naked group of boys on tour as they worked their
way up to state champions. After all, one had to admit they played beautiful
ball, those naked boys, and everyone loved watching them. Strip them all!
That night Mr. Thomas stayed at
the dinner table after he and his wife had eaten and opened his heart. "What
should I do? These mothers are preaching righteousness at me about the virtues
of this strip program. The fans are telling me the boys are natural-born
athletes just waiting to be unleashed from the fetters of clothing. But, if I
encourage the rest of the parents to strip their boys, what have I done? Most
of these boys, heck, all of these boys, are the only ones in their
neighborhoods to be naked--the only ones in their families, the only ones in their
churches. Am I encouraging them to be ostracized? It's also bothering me that I
agree that these boys are beautiful when they're nude." He looked at his
wife. She was an elder in their church. She was on the PTA of the elementary
school. She ran the women's committee for improving the neighborhood. She'd
would know the answer.
"I say, if the Lord made
it, it is good," she declared. "Why don't you take me to bed and you
can show me some of it."
That's how the Magic ended up
stripped and in the playoffs in Jacksonville.
This was the first time the team had really attracted any major attention. Youth
teams from all over the state convened in the large coliseum, with thousands of
siblings, cousins, parents, aunts, uncles, coaches, staff and friends thronging
the stands, organizing the games, and cheering on the players. When the
stripped-naked Magic ran onto the court the crowd cheered, and then went silent
with awe as they began to play. It was indescribable watching these boys move
in their bodies. Olympic gods, African warriors -- the words were hackneyed and
trite, but the reality was sheer magic.
It was at the state finals in Orlando that the team
attracted the attention of ESPN which televised the game with a special
advisory warning for those in less nude-friendly states. The Magic prevailed
and by the time the team returned victorious to Gainesville the tide had turned.
"I have seen the future of
basketball and it is stripped," declared the owner of the Orlando Magic.
Within three months the entire Gainesville Magic youth team had been Stripped
For Life. Under the constant wooing by pro scouts sent by the Orlando Magic,
including lavish dinners, limousine rides, tickets to Orlando theme parks,
pledges of college scholarships, and the not inconsequential cost of being
Stripped For Life, one by one the parents of each boy had been convinced to
extend their sons nudity forever. In truth, the cost of buying a boy's right to
ever wear clothing again was not that expensive for the owner of a professional
sports franchise. But the cost was inconceivable for every one of the families
When the news got out that
young boys were being stripped in hopes that an all-nude pro team could be
assembled when they came of age, the state's youth sports scene went wild. Coaches
in towns big and small began to prevail on parents to strip their sons so the
teams could play naked. Scouts fanned out to discover talented young players
that held the potential to play professional ball. Florida law stated that a child could be
stripped for for life as long as the money was paid out and the child stripped
before he or she turned 18. If there was any prospect of college teams or pro
teams playing naked, there had to be a large enough pool of potential talent
stripped while they were still too young to be completely sure how good they
were. But colleges and team owners hired scouts by the scores, dug into their
pocket books, and convinced hundreds of families to strip their kids. The
public appetite for watching boys play was incredible, and everyone figured the
television and ticket revenues to be made from watching virile young pro
athletes play ball would go through the roof.
It wasn't long before someone
figured out that basketball and naked boys weren't the only winning
combination. There was girls' and women's basketball. How about women's gymnastics?
How about boys or girls swimming and diving? Figure skating? Roller derbies? What
about nude cheerleaders? The only real options that didn't make any sense were
in sports where heavy equipment was required--football was a good example--or
where nudity was completely irrelevant. If you were all closed up in a NASCAR
race car, who cared if you were dressed as batman or as naked as a jay bird?
The final ironic twist was the
constitutional amendment banning any law that would give adults the chance to
achieve the stripped lifestyle. Professional sports and entertainment interests
had invested too much time, money and hopes for future income on the premise
that adult nudity would be something of a rarity. No matter how many kids they
Stripped For Life their numbers were still relatively few compared to the
entire population of Florida.
A smaller number of kids were stripped by families that had the money and the
inclination, but with the prospects that adult nudes were always going to be in
the minority, the numbers were small. The legislature, always mindful of the
source of their campaign dollars, enacted the super majority required to get a
constitutional amendment without going to public referendum. That's the story
of how Goethe Birdwell changed the course of Florida athletics. Get stripped as a kid,
play naked, attract attention and if you're talented you just might get
Stripped For Life. Whether that's lucky or not, I'll leave you to decide.