Writer’s Note:
The following story will be split into three parts with multiple chapters. A narrative novel is pretty much what this is. It will be following the life of a man from the age of 5 to 25. This is the evolution of a fetish. It starts as a curiosity and in no way becomes sexual until the boy reaches college. I am writing this to provide a good read to all of you while at the same time explaining the origins of a fetish through the story of this man. Any feedback is greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy and reader’s discretion is advised.
The Evolution of Laughs
Prologue:
I have a story to tell. No, it isn’t something to just whack off to, or indulge your fantasies. I have something to tell that should touch the inner parts of all of you. I suppose an introduction is needed at the point. Ahem, my name Jonathon Anderson. People usually call me Jonny, and only my father ever calls me Jonathon. I grew up, as most did, in a normal household in rural Georgia. I was a relatively small kid, but all my life I hid something deep inside me.
I thought of it as a sort of plague within me. Things like this weren’t normal for a person who was supposed to be a devout follower of Christ. My mother always instilled that fear of God in me. It could have been the cause of my fear of this rather odd interest that grew as time went on. Matter of fact that is where my tale begins….
,
Part 1: Childhood.
Chapter 1: Beginnings
It was a dreadful day in the early spring. Storm clouds were gathering along the horizon, and I was getting dressed for church. My eyes were tense as I tried not to just fall over and resume my dreams on the comfort of the hardwood floor.
“Jonny! You better be ready to go!” shouted my mother from downstairs. She was always one to make sure we were at church at least fifteen minutes early.
“I’m coming!” I shouted with all the power of my small frame. I was five, but could probably pass for an early four year old. Little did I know at that time, but I would not grow as I hoped despite the amount of milk I drank.
I tightened my belt, threw on my shoes and headed downstairs. My parents were waiting for me with a bit of impatience. I should probably tell you now that my father wasn’t the religious nut as mother.
“All set kiddo?” inquired my father.
“Yes sir.” I replied in a shallow tone of morning exhaustion.
“You better pay attention to the message this morning young man. Last week, I saw you gazing aimlessly at the floor,” said mother.
“And Jack, I don’t want to see you hiding a crossword puzzle in the Bible again either! Honestly, this is the lord’s house and I got to deal with two jackals!”
“No worries Val. I finished it this morning anyway.” Dad said.
My father, always a bit more relaxed then Mom on Sunday’s, pulled me aside and whispered in my ear.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t have an earpiece to hear the game, but that is between us buddy. Ok?”
I gave a little snicker in response as only a five year old could. My father smiled back at me and we all went out the door. Storm clouds were no longer over the horizon because they were right on top of our little town. Lightning struck with such fury that my little heart nearly jumped from its spot to greet my brain. As we arrived at our Baptist church, I could see people rushing to get in.
The one thing I noticed right away was the women carrying their expensive shoes while running barefoot through the soaking storm. My eyes tended to fixate towards the ground due to extreme shyness around people I didn’t know. I was watching and saw the water splash from their feet, and inevitably hit their husbands trying to run next to them.
“Why are those ladies running without shoes Mom?” I suddenly asked.
“They are very expensive shoes Jonny. They don’t want to ruin them by getting them drenched. Lucky for me, I wore a good pair of water resistant boots.” Mom said.
She always had a knack for checking the weather before we went anywhere and adjusted her apparel accordingly.
“You see son, this is why it pays to be a male. We don’t worry about frivolous things such as a pair of sho…” Dad started to say before Mom socked him in the arm.
“That’s enough of that Jack. Don’t start giving little Jonny the wrong message before we hear God’s word.”
Dad let out a loud groan as we parked. We walked into the church under the relative safety of an umbrella. Relative because it covered our heads, but my back was soaked. A deacon greeted us as we walked through the double doors and into the sanctuary. He shook my fathers hand, nodded at my mother, and patted me on top of the head. We walked a few rows up and sat down in the pew.
The hymns were sang, choir dismissed, and it was time for the preacher to speak. This was the part of church that every five year old dreaded especially this one. I listened to him recite a few versus in the Bible as my head started to bob. My eyesight then fixated on the ground and I saw many women still without their shoes. I was hypnotized by the sight because I never seen a thing like this in my young life. I just felt a sort of curiosity and slight infatuation with it.
Little did I know that this was just the beginning…
The following story will be split into three parts with multiple chapters. A narrative novel is pretty much what this is. It will be following the life of a man from the age of 5 to 25. This is the evolution of a fetish. It starts as a curiosity and in no way becomes sexual until the boy reaches college. I am writing this to provide a good read to all of you while at the same time explaining the origins of a fetish through the story of this man. Any feedback is greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy and reader’s discretion is advised.
The Evolution of Laughs
Prologue:
I have a story to tell. No, it isn’t something to just whack off to, or indulge your fantasies. I have something to tell that should touch the inner parts of all of you. I suppose an introduction is needed at the point. Ahem, my name Jonathon Anderson. People usually call me Jonny, and only my father ever calls me Jonathon. I grew up, as most did, in a normal household in rural Georgia. I was a relatively small kid, but all my life I hid something deep inside me.
I thought of it as a sort of plague within me. Things like this weren’t normal for a person who was supposed to be a devout follower of Christ. My mother always instilled that fear of God in me. It could have been the cause of my fear of this rather odd interest that grew as time went on. Matter of fact that is where my tale begins….
,
Part 1: Childhood.
Chapter 1: Beginnings
It was a dreadful day in the early spring. Storm clouds were gathering along the horizon, and I was getting dressed for church. My eyes were tense as I tried not to just fall over and resume my dreams on the comfort of the hardwood floor.
“Jonny! You better be ready to go!” shouted my mother from downstairs. She was always one to make sure we were at church at least fifteen minutes early.
“I’m coming!” I shouted with all the power of my small frame. I was five, but could probably pass for an early four year old. Little did I know at that time, but I would not grow as I hoped despite the amount of milk I drank.
I tightened my belt, threw on my shoes and headed downstairs. My parents were waiting for me with a bit of impatience. I should probably tell you now that my father wasn’t the religious nut as mother.
“All set kiddo?” inquired my father.
“Yes sir.” I replied in a shallow tone of morning exhaustion.
“You better pay attention to the message this morning young man. Last week, I saw you gazing aimlessly at the floor,” said mother.
“And Jack, I don’t want to see you hiding a crossword puzzle in the Bible again either! Honestly, this is the lord’s house and I got to deal with two jackals!”
“No worries Val. I finished it this morning anyway.” Dad said.
My father, always a bit more relaxed then Mom on Sunday’s, pulled me aside and whispered in my ear.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t have an earpiece to hear the game, but that is between us buddy. Ok?”
I gave a little snicker in response as only a five year old could. My father smiled back at me and we all went out the door. Storm clouds were no longer over the horizon because they were right on top of our little town. Lightning struck with such fury that my little heart nearly jumped from its spot to greet my brain. As we arrived at our Baptist church, I could see people rushing to get in.
The one thing I noticed right away was the women carrying their expensive shoes while running barefoot through the soaking storm. My eyes tended to fixate towards the ground due to extreme shyness around people I didn’t know. I was watching and saw the water splash from their feet, and inevitably hit their husbands trying to run next to them.
“Why are those ladies running without shoes Mom?” I suddenly asked.
“They are very expensive shoes Jonny. They don’t want to ruin them by getting them drenched. Lucky for me, I wore a good pair of water resistant boots.” Mom said.
She always had a knack for checking the weather before we went anywhere and adjusted her apparel accordingly.
“You see son, this is why it pays to be a male. We don’t worry about frivolous things such as a pair of sho…” Dad started to say before Mom socked him in the arm.
“That’s enough of that Jack. Don’t start giving little Jonny the wrong message before we hear God’s word.”
Dad let out a loud groan as we parked. We walked into the church under the relative safety of an umbrella. Relative because it covered our heads, but my back was soaked. A deacon greeted us as we walked through the double doors and into the sanctuary. He shook my fathers hand, nodded at my mother, and patted me on top of the head. We walked a few rows up and sat down in the pew.
The hymns were sang, choir dismissed, and it was time for the preacher to speak. This was the part of church that every five year old dreaded especially this one. I listened to him recite a few versus in the Bible as my head started to bob. My eyesight then fixated on the ground and I saw many women still without their shoes. I was hypnotized by the sight because I never seen a thing like this in my young life. I just felt a sort of curiosity and slight infatuation with it.
Little did I know that this was just the beginning…
