Paulina's Problem

DAY ONE

For the nineteen year old Ben it began quite innocently enough. His Mother, Paulina, a woman in her forties with dull brown shoulder length hair had been filling out her paperwork, which had spread all over their kitchen table.

Ben had been skulking around the house bored with another week's worth of revision that had become mind-numbing and so drinking tea, waiting for his Mother to go out so he could at least get on the computer and look at porn had become the norm. It was one of these grey lunchtimes that Ben came down to make a sandwich, his erection already starting grow in his jeans in anticipation of his afternoon wank, that he saw his Mother drowning under the paperwork.

Paulina was dressed in a smart black top, however her skirt was dull brown, long with a little split to one side. Ben made himself a cup of tea and asked if she wanted one. Paulina agreed, clearing a sort-of space for her mug. As Ben brought it over he caught a glance of the split in his Mother's skirt and the grey stockings that she wore, thick, ending in her flat black shoes. The sight however of the split stirred something in Ben and as he put the tea down for his Mother he became aware of the erection in his jeans pressing against the denim.

Jesus, he thought, I must be more aroused than I thought... Meanwhile his Mother looked up and smiled at him for the tea and then buried her head back in the papers.

"You should get an accountant to do that," Ben told her.

"Well sadly, we can't afford one," replied Paulina, tapping mournfully on her calculator.

BEEP! BEEP!

The car horn from out the front of the house made Paulina bang her mug on the desk and grab her handbag.

"Shit, Sue's early!" The hassled Mother quickly put on her black coat and kissing Ben on the cheek said "See you later - dinner's in the freezer!"

With that she'd vanished out of the house.

"Thanks," Ben said in the direction of the closed front door and went back to his sandwich. Pushing some of his Mother's work out of the way he sat at the kitchen table and picked up some of the papers. With increasing interest he realised that these were his Mother's bank details... her current account, savings, the whole lot.

Ben looked at the figures with furrowed brow.

Then looked at them again.

He studied the ledger his Mum still used, that had a couple of printed out spreadsheets hastily pasted inside it.

These numbers didn't add up. He checked the tax returns. His maths wasn't degree standard, but he knew basic arithmetic and this wasn't it. There seemed to be a massive discreprency between the tax returns she was proposing and what was still left in the bank... In short, if the bank balance was correct - his Mother was loaded.

Ben leaned back in the chair and began to take it all in. If the tax returns weren't a mistake, they certainly looked like they'd been filled in correctly then... was it possible? His Mother was cheating the tax man!

Pulling the blind in the kitchen window down, Ben went back to the paper and then threw it on the table. He unzipped his jeans, freeing his cock and squeezing it. In his mind images kept flahsing into his head, the split in his Mother's skirt, the fact she was a criminal... why was he doing this here? Why hadn't he gone to the computer? The more he thought about his Mother's legs the harder he got, any uncomfortable feelings about this were gone... His Mother the crook... His Mother's wrists bound by handcuffs... In the back of his mind a plan was forming, he could get anything he wanted out of this, his Mother would have to listen to him... could he do such a thing? She had given birth to him, raised him, loved him and yet... the prospect of having something over her, controlling her aroused him intently... And there was the image again - his Mother - smart black top torn, split in skirt ripped revealing a whole grey stockinged thigh, her wrists handcuffed to the sides of the wooden dining chair, her legs crossed, her shiny black shoe extended in front of him, a look of excitement and fear on her face...

And Ben came splattering his Mother's legs, shoes and skirt with his cum while she was bound to the chair unable to do anything...

He opened his eyes, sticky white cum splattered all over the kitchen floor lit by the low afternoon sun.

She would soon be his... he just had to figure how to do it... Subtly certainly... and he'd begin tomorrow...

DAY TWO

Ben thought long and hard about the best way to use the information about his Money laundering Mum and decided that he'd have to be subtle. He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted from her yet, but he knew the prospect of seeing her under restraint turned him on. Waking early he switched on his computer and pulled his thick young cock out from his boxers. He accessed some pictures of women in bondage quite quickly and began to leisurely masturbate to them. He imagined his Mother, Paulina, in the situations those models were posed. Kneeling, arms tied behind backs, sometimes gagged with material or a plastic ball, sometimes blindfolded, other were hogtied, left to squirm around the floor, others spreadeagled on double beds, legs wide ready to receive an eager prick.

As Ben looked at the pictures he realised his Mother didn't look like that at all and it disappointed him. Her drab clothing, flat shoes and unkempt appearance weren't as appealing to him as the made-up women, submissive and bound in sexy skirts, stockings and stiletto heels. Her appearance must be the first thing that changed then. It would be good for her, the teenager decided, god knows since Dad had left she had made little effort to look good or even keep the house in order. She needed guidance, Ben began to see that more and more. The paperwork was the way to do it.

Before Paulina had returned last night he'd scanned as much as he could do onto his computer before replacing it. E-mailing the images to an internet account, he now had evidence of her fraudulent behaviour. Part of Ben felt sorry for her, she was providing for both of them of course, but then he wanted in on the action and he wanted to be beneficial for both of them.

He turned back to the computer and began to pull on his cock once more...

Later that morning, Paulina was idly flicking through tv channels dressed in a charcol cardigan and tracksuit bottoms, she worked until 9 or 10pm in the evening sometimes and so enjoyed relaxing in the mornings. In the back of her mind though thoughts of her financial activities played. It was only the Inland Revenue, nothing to be concerned about, they certainly wouldn't bother investigating her, she sipped her coffee and tried to relax. When she looked back up, Ben was stood in front of her clutching some paper.

"Need testing again, dear?" she asked.

"No, Mum... we need to talk."

"About what?"

"Turn off the TV and I'll tell you."

Flicking the TV off, Paulina turned to Ben who was sat opposite her in the arm chair. Ben took a moment's pause and then looked her straight in the eye.

"Mum... I know what you've been up to. You know, with your accounts."

Paulina's heart skipped a beat as she slowly put her mug down on the coffee table.

"My accounts? Have you been going through my things?"

"You left them spread out over the kitchen table in mess... like everything else around here!"

"What? What do you mean?"

Ben waved the paper. "I have evidence here of your attempt to cheat on your tax returns! It's obvious, even to me it's obvious!"

The guilt crept slowly across Paulina's face, she pushed a strand of mousy hair back behind her ear.

"It's none of your business-"

"It's my business now, Mum! I've seen it! I ought to report you, because now I'm complicit!"

The notion of having placed her own Son in the same activity as her increased her guilt two fold. Paulina rubbed her temples.

"Ben, please, I've always done it this way we've never been caught-"

"Well I caught you!"

"Do you want me to stop?"

Ben paused. She'd asked him a question related to her behaviour,suddenly he felt the feeling of power, just a spike, just briefly. In his boxers his erection began to grow, spurred on by his Mother's worried face. He smiled and folded the paper in two.

"No... I will keep it a secret, Mum. But there is a price to pay for this secret."

"What?"

"You will pay a price to keep me quiet."

"But Ben, I'm your Mother! You should be looking out for me anyway, for God's sakes!"

"Maybe if you looked out for yourself, I wouldn't be doing this!"

"What do you mean?"

Ben stood up and walked over to mantlepiece. He ran his finger over the surface, lifting it to his Mother she saw the thick layer of dust.

"Look at this place, Mum. It's a tip! Ever since Dad left you've either run off to your job or ignored everything that's going on around you. I do my best, but you need to pull your weight around here, it's ridiculous!"

"Why should you care?!" retorted Paulina, now sitting forward, angry at the accusation.

"Because I live here too and because right now you have no direction, no drive, nothing- Don't say anything! Listen to me and listen well. What I want is not the money, you can keep that, but what I want is more of an effort made from you, Mum. I want you to help keep this house clean, I want you to take pride in it and I want you to take pride also in your appearance!"

"My a-appearance?"

Ben felt the anger take hold of his voice and it pleased him, she had to realise, had to know.

"Your appearance. I'm sorry, Mum, but ever since Dad left you've let yourself go, you dress down, your clothes aren't ironed, you've got one smart top that you wear for work to death, your hair's a mess, it's disgraceful! Sort it out!"

By now Paulina's head was in her hands. She hadn't been prepared for this attack, but in the back of her mind she knew that Ben was right. She had been down and she needed to pull herself together, but by this method? The tears started to roll down her cheeks.

Ben knelt down by his Mother. "I love you, Mum, but by tomorrow I want to see a marked improvement in this house and in your appearance. I'm staying at David's tonight. I'll be back tomorrow."

As Ben left Paulina looked up and realised she had work to do...

DAY THREE

It was the early morning and Paulina hadn't slept. She stared at the mess on the floor of her bedroom, clothes were strewn all over the floor and she tried to piece together what had happened.

After Ben had left, after his vicious, cruel and unrelenting attack on her and her attempts to cheat the taxman she had cried.

And cried.

And cried.

It all caught up with her, the letting herself go, the loss of her bastard husband, trying to get back on with life but failing. Ben's words had been harsh, she knew that, and it had angered her.

That afternoon she'd opened a bottle of wine and tried to put down into words how much he'd upset her. Who did he think he was telling her what to do, how to act, how to look after things. He didn't own her, they were Mother and Son. The letter she'd written was full of the vehemence of her upset and, Paulina knew more besides the actions of her Son. Deep down she knew that the letter was a cowards way out, but she couldn't face him again so soon.

Why not? She'd given birth to him, brought him up, taken on double the responsibility during his teenage years without a father and yet... there had been something in Ben's eyes that stirred emotions in Paulina's soul. Mostly fear, but something else and that worried her. The letter was the only way out.

Ben had to apologise, he had to see that pressuring her like this with accusations of tax fraud would not work. She was human, she just needed time. As Paulina drank the wine this conviction got weaker and weaker, it had been a long time, too long, the thoughts depressed Paulina and she dug deeper and deeper into her melancholy.

Folding the letter over she dragged herself up the stairs to her Son's bedroom, she never went in there nowadays, he just seemed to keep himself to himself and she respected his privacy, plus it would have been one more room to keep tidy and Paulina had shut herself off from that. The Mother paused before her Son's bedroom door wondering if the letter was a good idea... Deciding that she must she leaned down to put it under the door, pausing she had an idea, it wouldn't hurt to look inside... maybe he'd left out the so-called 'evidence' he had about the paperwork... Encouraged by the wine and her own curiosity, Paulina opened the door. She was shocked by what she found inside.

The room was one of the tidiest Paulina had ever seen.

Although the curtains were drawn the sunlight that did peek through showed no dust, no detritus on the floor. The carpet was hoovered, clean, stain free and fluffy. The bed was made, bottom sheet tucked in, duvet pulled taut over it. All the books on Ben's shelves were stacked neatly in size order, all of his cds put neatly away. The pc in the corner hummed neatly on the polished desk. Against the opposite wall, at the end of the bed a laundry basket sat. It was the first thing Paulina crossed to. It was empty. Throwing the letter on the bed, Paulina went to the drawers, upon opening them, everything was folded neatly, t-shirts, socks, boxer shorts, the whole lot.

Paulina took a step back and sat on the bed. Thinking for a moment she quickly knelt on the floor and looked under the bed. Again there was nothing there. A noticeboard in the corner caught her eye. Next to the calendar there was a note, scribbled in her Son's handwriting.

'SELF-DISCIPLINE FIRST'

His standards were high, no doubt about that. A sense of inadequacy washed over Paulina... how was she expected to live up to this? The note suddenly made no more sense to her, Ben had changed, the room was evidence enough. Paulina screwed up the letter and walked out of the room.

She tried to make it right in her own room, pulled open the wardrobes, looked at what she wore and what she didn't wear, tried to make piles, but the job seemed insurmountable to her, frustrating and she'd cried once more, drank more, into the early hours.

And now in the early morning light she stopped staring at the piles of clothes and look down at herself. On her wrist she'd tied a stocking, it was a spare one, she must have put it on her in case she found the other one. It hadn't been worn in years. She examined her wrist closely, it looked odd there the stocking, yet she couldn't remove it. On her other hand, scrawled in biro she'd written her Son's motto: 'SELF-DISCIPLINE FIRST'. She shrugged, she must have done it drunk. Licking the end of her finger she began to rub out the scrawl. Paulina paused though, looking again at her hand. It now read just: 'DISCIPLINE FIRST'.

The feeling that had stirred in Paulina when Ben had looked at her stirred again. Maybe she did need help... guidance... Whatever happened she needed to talk to him again, just to know, to make sure. Paulina fell back onto her pillow and shut her eyes, sleep came to her at last.

When Ben returned home about lunchtime, he found his Mother sorting clothes into binbags at the top of the landing. Inside Ben was quite nervous. His outburst yesterday had been fevered and angry and he wasn't sure how Paulina would have reacted. Outside he knew he had to maintain the look of superiority, he had to remember he was holding all the cards right now.

"Having a clear out?" he called upstairs.

"What does it look like?"

Ben walked up the stairs towards the bags. Stopping in front of Paulina who was bent over a sack holding a cardigan. Their eyes met.

"You really upset me yesterday."

A wave of guilt surfaced in Ben's stomach. "I said things that... needed to be said."

"I did need a push though...but, Ben... can we forget about all this fraud stuff? Please?" Paulina had decided that it was this issue that needed addressing most quickly. Ben meanwhile knew he had to stand his ground.

"You heard what I had to say, Mum. I think it's important to keep something to 'push' you there."

Paulina paused feeling the frustration in her again. She looked towards Ben's room. "You keep it very tidy."

"Thanks."

"Why?"

Ben thought about this for a second. "As... an example. An example of how I want this house, how I want this family."

Paulina sniffed "Who put you in charge all of a sudden?"

Ben moved forwards and very gently put his hand up to his Mother's arm, resting it there. "No one put me in charge. I had to make the decision. We have to get out of this rut."

Clearing her throat Paulina tied up the binbag. "I'm trying to make a start."

"Good," smiled Ben and he brushed past her into his room, shutting the door.

Paulina rolled up the sleeves on her sweater and looked at the red mark that the tied stocking had left, she let her fingers drift over it.

"Not in charge anymore..." she whispered to herself.

How could this be right? Paulina piled the third binbag on to the second. Giving away stuff to charity... She did need to clear it all out and there was now space in her wardrobe and drawers... but space for what? Maybe she ought to ask Ben...

And there it was, the acknowledgement that his opinion mattered on something that was not normally his jurisdiction. She had caught herself out, completely. Once more the anger and frustration returned.

Tying up the last binbag, Paulina threw it down the stairs, letting it hit the hallway with a THUMP.

If the little bastard wanted to be in charge then he would have to make decisions. And quickly. She resolved to talk to him in the evening.

Paulina had a long, nerve-wracking wait for Ben to eventually appear from his room. The teenager called down to her and told her we was having a shower. Paulina had frowned, why tell her that? The Mother found herself increasingly believing she was heading somewhere life-changing and it both scared and excited her.

That was when she found herself on the stairs. Looking up, Paulina noted with some surprise that the door was wide open. The shower was on, water hammering on the cubicle floor, steam drifting out of the bathroom. Intrigued, convinced that she was going up there to shut the door, Paulina crept ever closer.

Reaching the landing she pushed against the wall by the bathroom door and looked around. There was Ben in the shower, cubicle door open. Water running down his fit, naked body. His hands were running foam all over his skin.

Guiltily, Paulina looked at her Son's body, and breathed out slowly. His cock stood erect and proud. The pink member glistened with water on it as his hand washed and stroked the cock. Standing with his head back and eyes closed, the Son masturbated with pleasure as his Mother looked on. Paulina didn't know what to say or do. She was transfixed by the sight, it seemed to go on forever. Paulina became vaguely aware that this extremely wrong and taboo act was looking more and more like a shampoo commercial.

Catching herself, Paulina turned away from the door and went straight back down the stairs.

The sound of her departure allowed Ben to open his eyes and smile. He knew exactly what his Mother had seen. How she'd react... well that was more difficult to know. The act had been calculated, in one way to make her sexually aware of him... he hoped it would, but the other was a more blatent statement of control, an aggressive movement with intent. His Mother would have to be acutely aware of his dominance in this situation.

He let the water warm up a little and began to stroke his penis once more. He imagined his Mother, dressed only in black stockings and high heels, hands tied behind her back, kneeling in front of him. He was masturbating in front of her, pulling her hair back as he did, chuckling to himself. "Put it in me, put it in me!" the Mother pleaded. But Ben just laughed and cried out as he came, splattering the sides of the shower cubicle, but also his Mother's face. Smiling he turned off the water and got his breath back.