Making the Punishment Fit the Crime

MAKING THE PUNISHMENT FIT THE CRIME

"Well, Donnie, how are you doing?" asked Professor Baker, my academic advisor at a small private university in New England. "Looking forward to the new semester?" Stunningly beautiful, Professor Baker was the highlight of my academic career. With blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, a simple glance would take my breath away. She always wore fashionable dresses that accented her 5'4" frame and her almost perfect figure. In addition to her impeccable clothing, she was dripping in diamonds and other jewelry. She could have graced the cover of any fashion magazine.

Sitting in a chair in front of her desk, I replied, "yes, ma'am. Can't wait to get another semester behind me," I said, while simultaneously thinking how I would miss our little meetings once I graduated.

"You seem to be doing quite well. You are holding a 3.5 grade average, and the other professors hold you in high regard." She continued to look my file as she spoke.

While she was looking through my file, I looked beyond her at the luxurious items that surrounded her. Her office was well-appointed with antique furniture, elegant vases, and other items. Included in these items were the pictures of her with an older man, and several more of her with a younger man in his late teens. I always assumed they are the obligatory family pictures that every professor had.

"I understand that you are also working part-time?" As she spoke, I continued to drink in every feature of her face. "That has to be difficult taking a full class schedule."

"Yes, ma'am, but I somehow manage." She looked down at her file seemingly looking for a piece of information.

"Not to pry, but this university is very expensive. Yet, you have been able to pay the cost of tuition, books, and fees every semester. You can do that with a part-time job?" She tilted her head in an inquisitive manner.

"No, ma'am. My mother pays for the tuition. I earn enough for the books. I live at home with her."

She continued. "So, your mother and father must come from a wealthy family."

I shook my head. "Mother is an accountant for a construction company here in town. We lost dad several years back. We are far from wealthy, but mother always seems to be able to afford the tuition every year." The truth was that I was totally ignorant of mother's financial situation. Every semester, she paid the tuition. But as time went on, I could tell she was under some type of strain. In particular, she seemed more stressed than normal when she paid for this semester. Although I tried to discuss it with her, she refused saying that she could manage and did not want me to be burdened with student loans after I graduated.

"In any event, Donnie, if you need some type of financial assistance, please come see me. There are many ways to help you financially, including grants or even private assistance from university donors." She closed my file and walked to the cabinet. As she did, I could not help but notice how her blouse outlined her breasts and her skirt clung to the contours of her legs. Reaching the file cabinet, she stooped to return the file, bending at the waist with her back to me with her perfectly shaped ass pointed directly at me. Instantly, I began to fantasize about standing behind her, lifting her skirt above her waist, and pulling her panties down from the garter belt and hose that I visualized that she was wearing. Before I could complete my coupling with her in my mind, she closed the drawer and stood erect.

As she walked over to my chair, she said, "Donnie, just remember to see me if you need any financial aid." I stood, thanked her, and left her office with a visual that would serve me that night and several more to come.

Three weeks later, I was in the living room of our home, when I heard a knock at our front door. Walking to the door and peering through its small window, I could see a large, broad-shouldered man. He was wearing an ordinary gray business suit, with a white shirt, and an appropriate matching red tie. His face contained a slight, disarming smile. Seeing me, he nodded slightly.

I opened the door, and before I could speak, he said, "Hello, you must be Donnie. My name is Smith. Is your mother here?"

"Why, yes, she is, Mr. Smith. Can I tell her what this is about?" I inquired.

"It's very personal in nature. And the name is just 'Smith.' Perhaps, I should come inside before your neighbors get curious." He then brushed pass me with the same polite disregard one might give a stranger on the street. Stepping inside, he stopped and surveyed our home.

"MOTHER," I called out. Smith continued to look at me with a pleasant smile. She called back from her bedroom in the back. "What is it?" As she did, she came out of her room wearing a bathrobe and spotted Smith. As she did, she drew her robe tight and clasped the top with her right hand.

Looking at me and then Smith, she asked, "can I help you?"

"Yes, my name is Smith. I am here regarding a matter that has come to the attention of my employer. Why don't we all sit down in your living room?" Leading the way into the living room, he sat down in a large armchair that was opposite of our couch, and with his hand, he motioned for us to sit down. I noticed a faint but growing fear in my mother's eyes. As we sat down, we both sat on the edge of the sofa as if we were ready to make our escape.

"Can you please tell me what this is all about?", I asked.

"Donnie, my employer is a wealthy individual who is a silent owner of the construction firm at which your mother works. A recent internal audit has uncovered an embezzlement of almost $230,000, monies which were diverted by your mother into her personal bank account." The words hit me hard. Glancing at mother, I could see the terror in her eyes. "Isn't that correct, Mrs. Waring?"

My mother began to deny his accusations, leading him to wave his massive hand in her direction. "Mrs. Waring, we have the records. These facts have been confirmed by your own bank. We have easily traced those funds. We have the documentation already prepared and are ready to present it to the district attorney. Rest assured, you will be convicted and sentenced to the maximum prison term in the state penitentiary. You will not see the outside world for at least 10 years."

He continued. "The worst part of your embezzlement is that your effectively stole from your fellow employees. You know that the net profits are bonused out every year to the employees. My employer takes nothing. You violated not only the trust of my employer, but also every employee in the company. You can imagine how that fact will play in front of a jury."

Mother's eyes were full of tears. In a pleading voice, she said "please, I did it to pay for my son's education. I didn't do it for me."

Looking my direction, he continued. "Funny you should mention him. Let's not forget Donnie's involvement." My heart stopped.

Mother immediately came to my defense. "Donnie wasn't involved in the embezzlement." Smith quickly interrupted.

"Wasn't he? We have checks made out to Donnie and endorsed by him. Those checks alone total over $100,000. And don't forget, the entire $230,000 went to his benefit. No one is going to believe that he was not involved. He will be charged, convicted, and sentenced to prison. Maybe, his sentence will be lighter, but who knows."

Suddenly, I remembered several checks to were made out to me, which I endorsed. My mother had told me that it was a special scholarship fund that her company was providing. I felt as if I was being drawn further and further down an abyss.

Sobbing, my mother tried to respond. "But he didn't know, he didn't.... Her voice trailed off into silence.

Staring at my mother, Smith nodded, "my employer knows that you were only trying to provide an education for your son, a better life. It is for that reason alone that I am here to offer an alternative punishment that will not involve you going to prison."

Finally finding my voice, I asked, "what exactly is that?"

Turning towards me, he narrowed his gaze and spoke in the same accusatory tone. "Before we get to that, Donnie, let's talk about your own transgression. My employer is also a large donor to the university, which has recently discovered that you turned in a paper last semester that you had plagiarized. As you know, the university has a strict honor policy. The punishment for plagiarism is expulsion. None of your credit hours will be able to be transferred to any other academic institution. I doubt seriously any college will take you as a student. Additionally, expulsion under these circumstances along with these criminal charges will severely hamper any job prospects that you will have in the future."

As he spoke, I pushed backwards into the couch. My heart raced. I felt the need to explain. "Yes, you are right. I copied another student's paper from several semesters ago. I was working many more hours than I should have, but I needed the money to pay the remainder of what I owed in fees and books. I ran out of time and turned it in as my own. I was trying to keep from failing that class."

Nodding, Smith spoke in a matter-of-fact voice. "That fact is known to my employer. And just like your mother, I am here to allow you to accept an alternative form of punishment rather than face expulsion. Mrs. Waring, if you agree to this punishment, the embezzlement will be forgiven, you will be allowed to retain you job, with, of course, so appropriate safeguards, and Donnie's plagiarism will be forgotten. If you do not agree, you can both look forward to spending several years in prison."

For several seconds, Smith sat quietly to allow us to absorb the severity of our situations. "What will be proposed will be unpleasant but will be required, nevertheless. You violated the trust that was given to both of you. That trust must be restored. What will be demanded is one of an intimate nature." He paused once again.

"What do you mean 'intimate'?" Mother asked.

Smith just continued to stare at mother. "Wait! Do you mean sexual?" mother blurted out. "He wants me to have sex with him?"

Smith shook his head. "Not with my employer." He glanced in my direction.

Smith continued. "The conditions are that the two of you will be taken to a location, where you will have sex while my employer, and only my employer, watches from an unseen location. And no video will be taken of you."

Mother began to slowly shake her head in disbelief. "WITH MY SON! That is crazy! I won't do it." I continued to sit on the couch in a daze.

"Mrs. Waring, you misunderstand. This is not a negotiation. You will meet these demands," he said in a stern voice just short of anger, "or you two will go to prison. And once released, your son can look forward to working in the fast-food industry. If I leave here without your agreement, this offer will be withdrawn."

Mother continued to shake her head. "I won't do it. I just won't. Now, leave my house."

Smith stood, but I intervened. "Smith, give me a few moments with my mother." I stood, took my mother's hand, and led her to kitchen for privacy.

Looking into her eyes, I said, "Mother, I don't see we have much of a choice at the present. If we don't, we will go to prison. I can stand not having a university degree, but prison?" I paused. "Let's agree to the terms for now. We can figure out something else later."

Mother nodded reluctantly and we went back to the living room. Smith was still standing.

"Smith, we agree. What happens next?"

Glancing back and forth to mother and me, he gave us his instructions. "You will receive a flier in your mail advertising for pest control. Call the number on the flier and give the operator both of your names. She will give you explicit instructions which you must strictly follow. If you fail to comply in any respect, your chance for redemption will be withdrawn. Am I clear?"

We both nodded. He continued, "you will not see or hear from me again. I advise you to comply."

Walking to the door, he opened it, paused, and turned back to us. "If you are agreeing to these terms just to buy time, you will be disappointed. Trust me when I say my employer will not look upon you kindly if you do not comply."

"One more thing: I advise you both to get," he hesitated again while he searched for the right words, "comfortable with one another." Turning back towards the door, he closed it, walked down our steps, and disappeared into the night. We stood at the door lost in our thoughts. As mother locked the deadbolt, she placed her head against the door and said, "what are we going to do?"

I said nothing at first, lost in my own fears. I finally gathered enough courage to take my mother's hand and lead her to the living room. Once seated on the couch, I asked, "did you actually embezzle all that money just for me?"

She turned and looked at me. "Who else would I have done that for?"

Point well taken, I thought to myself. "What are we going to do?" she repeated for the second time. Taking her hands in mine, I said, "we will come up with a solution."

Thinking that we both needed it, I opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass of wine for both of us. For the next several hours, we tried to solve our dilemma while continuing to consume a couple of bottles of wine. Our first compulsive act was to leave and hide from the authorities. That notion was quickly discarded once we both realized that we had no money and no place to go. We next thought about hiring an attorney and fighting in court, but again we were without any funds and the evidence was overwhelming. As the night wore on, we created and discarded ideas as we realized the flaws in those planned actions. Late into the night and well into the second bottle of wine, we even came up with the farcical plan to expose Smith's employer and his aberrant demands on a mother and son. Although initially celebrated by us as our way out, we returned to the reality that we had no way of finding out who that was, that we had no proof of the demand, and that no one would believe an embezzling mother and her son.

As our discussion continued, however, the idea of having sex with my mother began to whirl through my head. I had never had any sexual intentions toward mother, except for the occasional glance through an open doorway or window to catch a glimpse of mother nude. Those actions were more curiosity than lust. Now, random visions of mother and I having sex would appear, only to be crushed by my psyche the next instance. Throughout that evening, I found myself looking at mother's legs or her cleavage when she shifted her posture or leaned over to retrieve her wine glass. The ultimate surprise occurred when mother inadvertently exposed her pussy to me while turning to face me. Her legs were slightly parted, and I was gifted with the clear view of her pubic hair and the slight outline of her vulva. Realizing her exposure, she closed her legs and pulled her robe together. I acted as if nothing had happened. But the vision was something that remained firmly in my mind.

Around 1:00 a.m., we decided we didn't have a viable plan. Very uncharacteristically, mother asked if I could sleep in her room, which I agreed. I went to my room and returned wearing a t-shirt and gym shorts. Leading her to her bedroom, we fell asleep in each other's arms.

During the night, I had several dreams about our situation, ranging from our criminal trial to prison life. It was a restless night, but as I awoke around 7, I knew exactly what we needed to do.

Mother woke shortly after me, and she continued to lay there next to me. We stayed that way for about 30 minutes before I spoke.

"I know what we need to do." I allowed my statement to settle in the air for several moments.

My quietly asked, "what is it?"

"We need to comply with the punishment." Raising herself on one elbow to face me, Mother was prepared to argue when I cut her off. "Hear me out. Neither of us can go to prison. We would not survive there. We can make this a one-time event. No one will ever know except me, you...."

"And him?" Mother interjected. "What if there are other people watching, what if he videos us?" mother was prepared to argue the many "what ifs."

"Smith has indicated his employer will be the only one present and no videoing will happen."

"How can you trust what he says? You don't know him." Mother continued.

Like mother, I likewise raised myself to my left elbow and faced her. "Well, there is one thing that is certain," I said. "If we don't comply, we are going to prison. We can discuss "what ifs" all day long. The ONLY thing we can do is comply."

Mother flopped down on her back and stared at the ceiling.

Trying to justify my course, I said "once this is done, we no longer need to discuss it ever again. It will be our secret that we will carry to the grave, at least I know that I will." Mother continued staring at the ceiling. "Rest assured that this is not something that I want, but I know that this is the only course of action for us." I then flopped down beside mother and looked up at the ceiling as well.

For the next 10 minutes silence dominated mother's bedroom. Finally, mother spoke. "Are you sure that there is no other way?"

"Yes, ma'am. There is no other way." I replied.

"I just don't know, Donnie. I'm not a prude but having sex with my son is something that I never even thought about. I'm afraid that I won't be able to go through with it. What if I freeze up or become, I don't know, 'hysterical'?"

"Mother, I understand your concern, but also think of my situation. You can just, well, lie there. I must be able to get, you know, an erection. I have never had sexual thoughts about you, "a small white lie considering the night before, "and now I have to perform in front of a total stranger."

"I don't know, Donnie," Mother responded. "I haven't been with anyone since your father passed away. Now, we are talking about incest. And what if you cum in me? I'm not sure I can get pregnant at 45, but I'm not on birth control." Mother's eyes exhibited both concern and fear.

As Mother was talking, she had placed her hands on her robe, clasping the edges above her breasts and below her stomach. Clearly, Mother was uncomfortable about even showing herself to me. I had to take the next step.

I once again raised myself on my left elbow. Looking directly at her, I said, "I've thought a lot about Smith's suggestion that we get 'comfortable with one another.' I think we have to, well, practice. We need to know what pleases each other, what each other looks like naked, and how we are going to have sex." I expected mother to push back, but the opposite happened.

With a look of resignation, mother asked, "Do you promise that you will never tell a soul? No one can ever know." Quickly, I replied, "I promise."

"So, now what?" she asked.

"First," I continued, "we need to at least be comfortable with each other naked. Agreed?" Mother merely nodded her head. Knowing that I had to take the first step, I rolled to the side of the bed and stood up. As Mother looked at me, I pulled my tee shirt over my head and then dropped my gym shorts to the floor. I stood at the side of the bed with Mother's eyes locked on my slowly hardening cock.

After a few seconds, I lay down beside Mother and propped myself on my left elbow. Reaching down to her robe, I slowly removed her hands from clutching her robe, which she then dropped to her side. As I pulled her robe apart, Mother closed her eyes.

Looking down, the sight that greeted me was my mother's naked body. Her breasts sagged slightly and were crowned with brown nipples. As she lay there, her breasts rose and fell with deepening regularity. I scanned downward and drank in the sight of her brown pubic hair covering her mound. Although her legs and hips were slightly plump, Mother's hour-glass figure did not resemble a woman in her 40s.