Chapter 1

As I sat down across from him, I could tell Principal Bigham wasn't happy. He sighed, and began interrogating me.

"You do realize going to school barefoot is against the dress code?"

"Err ... No."

"Have you ever read the dress code?"

"No."

"Is there a reason you came to school barefoot?"

"It's a religious devotion."

"A religious devotion?"

"Yes, God told Moses to take off his shoes, for he was on holy ground. Going barefoot reminds me that the whole world is holy."

Mr. Bigham rolled his eyes. "Is this something your church told you to do or did you think it up yourself?"

"I thought it up myself."

"Well, if a church ordered you to be barefoot it would qualify as freedom of expression. As it is, I'm going to send you home to get some shoes on."

"Ok."

"Really, you're not going to fight this?"

"Render unto Caesar," I responded brightly, and left to get my shoes.

When I got home, I was greeted by my mom and my step-dad having sex in the living room. That isn't actually an unusual occurrence in my family. My mother calls herself "an extremely sexual person;" other people tend to call her a slut. In fact, she thinks I was conceived at an orgy she organized after her sophomore year homecoming dance. Most people would be mad at her for being so promiscuous, but I have to admit I inherited the tendency.

Mom looked up at me "You're ... home ... early," she gasped between squeals of pleasure.

"Yeah, the barefoot thing didn't fly with Principal Brigham, so I need to get shoes."

"You ... didn't ... tell him ... that ... it's religious?"

"Yeah, but he said it had to be something a church actually told me to do for me to get away with it."

"Oh God Joey!"

I went to my room and started looking for my flip-flops. Just as I found them I heard the screams of Mom's orgasm. She was resting on the couch when I got downstairs.

"You know," she told me, "you could just make up your own church and say it says you have to go to school barefoot."

That gave me something to think about the rest of the day. It seemed presumptuous to just start my own church. Still, I had been dissatisfied with all of the churches I had been attending over the past few years.

As I was leaving school, I ran into Principal Brigham and asked him if I could really start my own church.

"You'll have to register it as a non-profit with the IRS. Once you do that, you can come in here butt naked and I can't touch you." That got me thinking some more. One of the big problems I had had with the churches I'd attended was that they focused on either their view of sexual morality or liturgical ritual to the exclusion of helping the needy. If I started my own church, I could probably raise a pretty good amount of money to that end.

That evening, after I'd finished my homework, I facebook-chatted with some friends who I thought might be interested and downloaded the necessary forms from the IRS. They mostly agreed that it sounded like a good idea. I broached the subject with my parents at dinner, and they said they'd let me host the first service in the living room on Monday morning as long as I didn't wake them up.

The only thing left to do was get a service figured out, but I figured that could wait another day. Instead, I went up to my room, stripped off, and began jerking off. I thought of my boyfriend, Mark, giving a speech in class naked. In the fantasy, I leaped up from my desk, pulled down my pants, and began vigorously fucking him. I came pretty quickly, not having gotten off all day, and drifted off to sleep to the sounds of my parents having sex in the next room.