HONEST BOSSY BOOTS
from Fredericka

Dear Helga,

A little about myself, I am a 45 year old woman of independent means. My husband died almost five years ago, he was a lot older than me, by 20 years. He died in a car crash, his fault, drunk driving. Funnily enough, I don't miss him. I have my own spacious 4 bedroom flat in Central London. I have many girl friends (funnily enough, no men friends, I wonder why?) Belong to many societies, film clubs, book clubs, art groups etc. Most importantly, I am a part time barrister. I find this very stimulating, dispensing justice with others. As an aside I find the people who come before me, mostly male youths with attitude problems to both work and honesty. I can confidently say that in the time I have been doing this, I have found the vast majority of the accused to be feckless, work shy liars. My girl friends and people who know me say that I am a "confident, independent, generous, honest bossy boots" I don't cringe at their opinion of me, I like things to be done correctly and if someone says something to stick to it, my word is my bond. I would say I am old fashioned with Victorian principles. Anyway the crux of the problem, if it is one?

Since my husband passed away, I have had a woman cleaner, not being unkind, she rather fawns over me and looks up to me because she thinks that I am from a higher class than her. I always treat her with respect and fairness. She sometimes brought her young son with her when she could not get anyone to look after him, I did not mind, he sat in the kitchen whilst she did the cleaning etc. and was very polite. He was 14 at that time.

A few years later, when he had just turned 16, she asked, if it was at all possible if he could stay for one night as she had to go and visit her sister who was ill. I said yes, he came, I did not know what to do with a young lad, so took him to the National Gallery, I took him for an "early meal in Covent Garden. He was polite, pleasant, good humored and most important clean. He slept the night and was no problem, before his mother collected him, I went in to strip the bed, so his mother could wash the sheets and remake it. To my horror, on my Egyptian cotton bottom sheet was a whitish/grey coloured stain, about the size of a saucer, it was stiff. I immediately thought, he has been "masturbating" in one of my beds! I was angry, horrified and upset, what should I do or say? I decided to tell his mother, she was equally distressed.

She said I cannot talk to him about it, can you? How odd I thought but then I thought of my magisterial training and my belief that "masturbating" was not good for a youth. I decided to take the bull by the horns and confront him, with his mother. It came as quite a shock, when in front of both of us he admitted that he masturbated on a frequent basis, for goodness sake he was only 16 years of age. I could only see harm in this, so I instructed his mother to bring him to me at least once a week for "training" she was mortified but extremely grateful. I thought I must be frank with this boy. I told him that there would be a "WANKING BOOK" (that is English slang for masturbating) and each time the event occurred, he was to enter the time and date and his thoughts. This he dutifully did. To reward him I took him out for coffees, McDonald's, the cinema etc. I must admit, I enjoyed his company and the intimacy of a shared "secret"

His 17th birthday passed and I took him to the ballet, it was a recent version of "Swan Lake" where all the parts were played by males, in fact it got rave reviews. see Matthew Bournes "SWAN LAKE" featured on www.youtube.com He asked if I could get him one of the "costumes", I said only if you are a very very good boy, sign a letter of confidentiality, never to discus what occurs between us with anybody whatsoever, do exactly as I tell you at all times and do not "masturbate" without my permission. He agreed almost working himself into a state of sexual arousal. I could only get a "fru-fru" which is a small white ballerina's dress, I summoned him to my apartment on a Friday evening, told his mother he would be with me till school on the Monday morning, she nearly expired with happiness.

He came, I made him have a bath, I looked in every so often to ensure he was not playing with himself. Told him to get out, dry himself and come into the drawing room, to my immense surprise, he did but he was totally naked. What could I do, I had to feign, shock and anger. I gave him a torrent of "who do you think you are etc" He started to cry and sunk to his knees, whimpering. I said you will leave now unless you accept your punishment. He agreed, I sent him to get the dustpan and brush, I made him enter into the "Wanking Book" PUNISHMENT: six whacks on the backside. I made him bend over the chair and I really whacked him, was it anger I wonder? In a way, which is shocking for a woman of my age, I made him put the "Fru-Fru" on and stand in front of me, I asked him when he had last masturbated, he said a week ago, I was trying to be good, I told him to hold his appendage which by now was engorged and to masturbate in front of me whilst looking me in the eye, he did so, and crumpled in a heap at my feet, sobbing and crying. I don't know what made me say to him, "You are a disgrace as a boy, if you want to come here again, it will only be as something else, he said what, I said and I don't know why, A Girl. Having visited your website, I now feel this is the way to utterly control him.

Since he was 17, he visits and dresses as a little ballerina, he seems happy, is malleable, acts nicely, brings me tea, biscuits, I make him wear boxing gloves at night and tie his hands to the bedstead, so he cannot fiddle with himself. When I take him out he wears normal modern youths clothes but he is very submissive and that is how I like it. I have never touched him sexually or masturbated him but on his 18th birthday, I bought him a Scotsman's kilt, a ruffled white shirt, long white socks and took him for afternoon tea at the RITZ like a real Scotsman, I would not allow him to wear knickers. I made him wear it as short as was decent, he loved the service we received, white gloved waiters.

I took him home and he asked me if he could come into my bed, I was excited by the "events" of the day and agreed. I told him he had to shower vigorously, shave his pubic hair, plus under his arms. Wash his hair and pour some of my perfume on his body. He did as he was told, entered my bed and I allowed him to penetrate me for about 30 seconds only, I told him to withdraw, he said he did not want to, so I smacked him around the face, he quickly withdrew, I turned him over, put some "Vaseline" on his anal area and proceeded to penetrate him with my small dildo. He moaned, wiggled and for the first time I masturbated him. He screamed with delight, promised his undying obedience and affection.

I suggested to him, that we "marry" but not in the conventional sense, as he has no money or job and I pay for our outings, I am more of a man than he is. He said and I was flabbergasted, "I would love to be your boy/wife and serve you".

Sincerely,
Fredericka


Thank you for your letter Fredericka, I'm sure you both must be very happy together and we wish you the very best. I hope we can hear from you again at some point.

Helga

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