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My mother was Normandy by origin and, like all Normans of small stature, strong, with large red hands, the early faded single woman was very concerned about my health, always bought powders to drink me, then from diarrhea or from a cold.
The house where we lived, stood not far from the port, was small and old, but my mother and I tried to keep it clean and tidy, which many were proud of, or more precisely, my mother would be proud, and she would drive me more in the evening when she came home from work order and everything shone clean.
In the evenings, life in the town stopped and only torches burned near the port taverns, and my mother was already addicted to gin in the evening, as the sailor’s delight told her she liked it, pouring gin on two fingers into a glass was fun and energetic and usually tried to do I warmed water and poured into the old trough and washed me.
And one of the dreary winter evenings, mother, as always carefully examining, saw two black hairs on the scrotum: -Look, Willy, your hair is already growing – she laughed hoarsely and immediately was anxious- that you pisyun little you already have 12 years old then you knocked out yesterday from work went to her neighbor’s son 6, and pisyun for more will, let’s throw a blanket and sit down to the hearth closer and I run off to Mrs. Gray.
After about fifteen minutes my mother brought a little old woman Mrs. Gray, she was a famous witch in the city, she looked at me and asked how many years she had given up: “Martha, everything is fine and you don’t bother with anything at night, leaving the door disconcertingly disconcerting Mother also poured herself a gin on her finger and sat down to think, it was not so easy to confuse, but I will go to the witch who understands more than this insight Gray.

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The witch was called Miss Bolivar, a woman already aged about forty-five who was preparing love potions, love spells, was a famous priestess and had a bad reputation in the city.
Half an hour later, Mother brought Miss Bolivar to us, the first time I saw her so closely, a tall woman with mustaches under her upper lip and a squeamish expression on her face, she ordered her to stand on a stool and examined: -So, let Marta wash my hands with water “Well, Miss Bolivar is serious about this,” my mother asked timidly. “I have to check how many women are in it,” she muttered thoughtfully, taking out a bottle of white ointment from her bottomless skirts.
“Oh, check it out, Miss Bolivar check it out, mother bustle about, let me give you a genie capna, don’t deny a poor woman.”
“Not to fail, Miss Bolivar spoke in a low, almost male voice, after drinking half a glass of genie in one fell swoop, she opened a bottle of ointment and approached me, dipped her thumb into the ointment, her fingers were thick and short like sausages, and my form of goose went I was always afraid of her and it was not for nothing that the Witch called her for a reason.

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Come and help Marta.
-Oh, what are you doing Miss Bolivar – my mother, having drunk a lot already, came up to us.
-I check on the woman’s, told you, now he has to sit on the ass with his finger and squat as much as I’ll say Bolivar approvingly patted me on an asshole, well done Martha, they should be kept in strictness.
“He’s walking along my string — mother has bragged enough — let Willy sit down, this is a serious matter.”
I slowly began to squat and my mother slammed my shoulder sharply, and with a fright I sat down on Miss Bolivar’s finger, felt a slight pressure in my ass, it didn’t hurt, and I sat down to the end with relief, closing Miss Bolivar’s hand to my back.
– I didn’t get up – mother commented carefully looking at my scrotum.
– Wait not immediately, let’s crouch. Hidden camera teen nude.

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