Joannie´s story: Declaration of (Booted) Independence Part 1

     Part 1

              By Joannie Halloran

Hi,

my name is Joan and together with my VERY fetish-active boyfriend of eight years, John (better known as  "pettetboots") we have checked out many fetish communities ... much to our enjoyment and fulfillment!

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A little background on me: I'm 40 (as of two weeks ago!), was raised
by a loving mother and father, although my mom wanted very much to be
the STRICT Catholic she was (and still is). I gave it a try but
couldn't---just didn't offer me what I needed growing up.
 I was VERY shy up through my 20s. I often use the analogy of being
BAILEY on "WKRP in Cincinnati" ... the gal who WASN'T Loni Anderson (the shy one with straight hair and glasses---very attractive in her own way but QUIETLY attractive).

I always LOVED boots. From the time I was in elementary school I was always trying on high heeled boots belonging to my mom and our neighbors. Always liked the texture of them. One day my
mom found me--how shall I put this?--"pleasuring" myself with the soft nylon/tricot lining (SO SILKY!!!!) of one of her boots (I was in 5th grade at the time) and did EVERYTHING verbally to make me feel as though
I'd let down God and her both. I felt awful. I felt evil. I felt dirty--even before I REALLY knew what that word meant ....

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But my desire to wear boots (the taller the better) persisted as did
my equally powerful desire to wear the sheerest silkiest, sexiest
stockings and pantyhose I could lay my hands on. I was still very much a quiet beauty trying to live OUTSIDE myself, terrified someone would notice how "weird" I was.

Luckily because I was a nearly straight-A student right through college (majored in journalism; minored in Psychology--especially enjoyed the ABNORMAL PSYCHOLOGY courses because THOSE dealt with fetishes etc.)

 After a mostly unhappy decade in my 20s of trying to be what OTHER wanted me to be (or at least what I THOUGHT they wanted me to be).

I realized in my 30s, still living in L.A., that I HAD a VERY strong
fetish for women's thighboots and nylon and silk, especially where
lingerie and hosiery was concerned.

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I began to go to fetish clubs--first at the urging of a very dear girlfriend, Kathy (who died of ovarian cancer at age 48 two years ago), and then later at my OWN urging. I needed that kind of validation that came with seeing other "straight-laced" types letting loose ... allowing themself to try new things. [...]

To be continued!