Letting excitement get the better of them a girl and boy pay the price

By Joanna Jones

For the boarders at Croxenford Girls School there were a wide variety of extra curricular activities available on Saturday and Sunday afternoon. However, while Saturday was generally devoted to team sports, those on Sunday were much more flexible. Marge had been keen on horse riding since she had been young and now was one of the main members of the local riding club’s junior eventing team, which she was eligible for until the September following her eighteenth birthday.

Every Sunday, as well as a couple of times during the week, would see her with the horses mucking out the stables and honing her jumping skills. The stable owner and club leader was Mrs Mary Hodges, whose nineteen year old son Robert was another member of club, and one who Marge rather fancied. He was often around at weekends, before travelling the sixty odd miles to university during the week.

One Sunday Marge was very pleasantly surprised to find herself riding out with Robert to the end of the gallop and felt an even more pleasant tingle as he struck up a conversation.

After a bit of general banter, he mischievously said: “I don’t know what you see in old Phaeton,” the horse she was riding. “I’ll grant you he’s a great jumper but his speed between the jumps is appalling.”

Never one to take a comment lying down she immediately replied: “And that old nag, Harperboy, of yours is better?”

“Of course!” Robert replied.

Soon they were both passionately discussing the merits of their respective horses, which finally led to the challenge.

“Okay I’ll race you back along the gallop, and I’ll prove that we are the faster!” Robert said.

Marge paused. She knew Mrs Hodges was very strict on her no racing rule. If she was caught the stated penalty was to be expelled from the club and the headmistress informed, which would in inevitably lead to a very painful visit to her office.

Robert sensed Marge’s reluctance, but was not in the mood to compromise and, after some cajoling, including asking her if she was scared, Marge was up for the race.

As the turned at the top of the gallop together they shouted: “Three, two, one, go!”

They were off. Marge, who had never raced a horse at full tilt before, felt the thrill of the speed as Phaeton hurtled down along the track, neck and neck with Harperboy.

They were still more or less together halfway along when Robert gave his mount a small flick with his riding crop, the brief stimulation being enough for Harperboy to respond, lurching him into the lead.

Marge had not considered the whip in her hand up till that point, but was not going to hold back. A slap to the flank of Phaeton had her level and then into the lead.

With the thrill and adrenaline flowing she flicked the Phaeton again, getting still more out of the horse. However, Harperboy was still only just behind.

She started to use her crop more freely in her determination to win, and by the end had long since failed to see that she was not getting any extra speed from doing so; she was so exhilarated from the race and at having won.

Robert was all smiles as he pulled up just behind, saying he could see that there was clearly more to old Phaeton than meets the eye!

They were still smiling and chatting as they trotted back into the stable yard.

It was Robert whose face fell first.

“Oh shit!” He said quietly. “Look at my mum.”

Marge’s stomach twisted as she looked up and saw a clearly very angry Mrs Hodges pacing towards them from the other end of the stable block.

“Get off your horses now and bring them here!” She shouted as she approached. “You both know the rules about racing!”

“I am sorry Mrs Hodges,” said Marge first as she dismounted.

“There are good reasons forbidding racing! Robert.” She whipped round to face her son, now also off his horse. “Tell me what they are!”

Robert gulped and glanced nervously around the, by no means empty, stable yard before saying: “Err, because it is dangerous both to the horse if he hits a hole in the ground as the gallop is not perfect, and to the rider if he is thrown off. Sorry mum.” He finished sheepishly.

“You’ll be a lot more sorry by the time I’m through with you,” replied his mum. “I think you deserve a session in the bathroom young man!”

Robert gulped as Mrs Hodges turned her attention to the horses. “Also the way you were whipping those horses looked very bad,” she said as she examined the flanks of the two animals.

“Hmmm, Harperboy is okay, but, Marjorie Simpson, look at this!” She said.

Phaeton whinnied as Mrs Hodges touched his side. Marge felt terrible as she saw the marks that her crop had left.

“I am really sorry,” she said. “I must have got totally carried away.”

“Another reason why racing is forbidden,” responded Mrs Hodges. “Give me your crop.”

With it in her hand she walked into the stable, rinsed a bucket out and filled it with water. She then plunged it into the water. Marge was shocked and sickened to see tiny flecks of red in the bucket. She could still not believe she had been so rough.

“Oh I am so sorry,” she said to Phaeton tears running down her cheeks as she cuddled him. “I promise I’ll never be so stupid again.

Mrs Hodges interrupted coolly. “Not that you’ll be getting much of a chance, you know the rules the school and riding club have!”

Marge stood stock still, absorbing the reality that she in her heart already knew: her horse riding was in all probability over. She looked at Mrs Hodges and burst into an inconsolable state, begging to be given a second chance.

It had not dawned on Robert that the race could lead to Marge leaving the club. The worst he thought could happen was that she would get something similar to what he was expecting. Neither the school nor his mother he knew were averse to providing a miscreant with a very sore backside, and his mother’s promise to take him to the bathroom later was going to be no nominal punishment.

However, he knew his mother would never ban him and it seemed very unfair that Marge should suffer that fate.

Mrs Hodges ordered them to take their horses back to the stables, and while Marge desolately led Phaeton back to the stables, Robert seized his chance.

“Mum,” he started.

Mrs Hodges looked at her son coldly as she interrupted him. “I know that tone of voice. Don’t think that you can get out of returning to University this evening without a very sore backside.”

“No, I know I deserve to be punished, the horse race was entirely my idea and I am ashamed to say I pushed Marge very hard to agree to it. It seems very unfair that she is going to be banned. Surely we should be punished equally?”

Mary Hodges considered before replying. “The rules for the school members are those agreed between the school and myself, I cannot change them and you know I cannot punish her in the way you propose. I am sorry but that’s the way it is.”

Robert took a deep breath. “In which case I am I guess banned too. As far as is possible I should get the same as Marge.”

That he knew was his mother’s weak point, and he saw the shock it had registered as her mother looked at him slack jawed.

“You can’t be serious!” She replied. “You have real chance next month in the county horse trials. You are not going to let all your training go to waste!?”

“Marge would also have a chance in her section too, possibly better than mine.” Robert replied determinedly and then was silent.

His mother looked at him a long time before recognising that the stubborn streak he’d inherited from his father was going to mean he would go through with it. He knew her weak point. She was very proud of her son’s riding skills and it was unthinkable to her for him not to compete. Apart from anything else it was a waste of his talent that she’d nurtured over the last fifteen years or so.

Eventually Mrs Hodges said: “Put Harperboy away and wait with Marge in the stable area. I will phone Miss Thomas and discuss the rules again.” Then as an afterthought she said: “I fully expect you’ll be strongly regretting this very soon, Robert Hodges.”

“Maybe in the short term.” Replied Robert. “But in the long term my conscience will at least be clear.”

As Robert led his horse back to his stable Mrs Hodges walked somewhat angrily to the house and phoned Miss Thomas, the headmistress of Croxenford. On reflection, though she would not ever admit it to her son, banning a girl for one instance of foolishness after five or six years of generally impeccable behaviour was a little harsh. Thus, after some discussion the two ladies came up with a plan; one that would form the basis for dealing with any further instances of schoolgirls getting carried away.

Meanwhile Robert had stabled Harperboy, and found Marge grooming Phaeton intensively, tears still running down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he approached her a little nervously, not knowing how she would respond.

“No!” She replied miserably. “I made the decision knowing what the consequences were; I now have to live with that.”

“I persuaded mum to speak to your headmistress about finding a punishment that does not involve you being banned. I can’t promise anything but there may be some hope.”

“Really?” Replied Marge rather desperately. “But, how did you manage that?”

“I, err, told my mum that the race was my idea and I must get an equivalent punishment. Mum is always going on to her pals about my horsemanship, so there is no way she’ll accept me being banned.”

Marge replied: “Well, to me, any punishment is better than being banned, so thanks, but you know that Miss Thomas is almost certainly going to cane me when I get back.”

“I guessed as much, and my mum is pretty annoyed at my stubbornness. She’d promised me a whacking already before I insisted on equal treatment.”

“Yeah, I heard. She said in the bathroom?” Marge queried.

Robert blushed. “It hasn’t happened for a couple of years, but if my sister or I go too far then we get sent to the bathroom to wait for her. When she comes in we have to be ready, already bent over with our underwear around our ankles. She uses a wooden bath brush.” He paused. “I got the cane at school a few times, and that was preferable to my mother’s brush I assure you.”

Marge looked at Robert who was staring nervously at the stable floor. Suddenly on impulse she took a risk and kissed Robert on the cheek. “Thanks for sticking up for me,” she said.

Robert pondered for a moment before taking hold of her round the waist and briefly kissing her on the lips. “Perhaps we can go on a date together once this has all blown over?” He asked.

“I’d like that!” Replied Marge. “But we’d better be careful how your mum finds us; we’re in enough trouble as it is,” she continued as she gently disengaged from Robert’s embrace.

As they both exited the stables they saw Mrs Hodges crossing the stable yard.

“I was just coming to find you two,” she said. “Follow me!”

She then turned on her heel and returned to the house. Marge followed Robert’s lead in removing her riding boots in the utility room before nervously following Mrs Hodges into a large living room.

“Miss Thomas is coming down from the school shortly. You two will stay in here until she does and until the school riding club is finished and I’ve made sure everything is tidied up. You can each stand in a corner with your hands on your head, and,” she paused. “I think with your Jodhpurs off.”

Marge watched as Robert was directed to the far corner and glimpsed him reluctantly loosing the fastening on the waist before she found herself directed to the opposite corner of the room and her hands making the necessary adjustments to her attire. Soon she was standing with her hands clamped in her mousy brown hair. Her thin pair of white knickers was all that was covering her rather petite rear and her riding trousers were neatly folded on the floor next to her.

As she exited Mrs Hodges parting shot was: “Don’t even think about moving, or talking!”

The two of them stood in silence with only the tick of an old mantlepiece clock to keep them company. Marge had butterflies in her stomach and felt the tick-tick was like some sort of countdown to her doom. Occasionally the silence was broken by muffled noises that carried through from stable area, and twice the clock struck the quarter hour. Despite there being no-one apparently there, neither Robert nor Marge dared moving or whispering across to each other.

Finally they heard a car pulling up followed, unmistakably, by the voices of Mrs Hodges and Miss Thomas welcoming each other. A few minutes later the door opened, and they heard Miss Thomas commenting that Mrs Hodges clearly had things well under control. She then asked to see the damage to Phaeton and Mary escorted her out to the stable yard leaving Robert and Marge further time to ponder their fates.

Ten slow minutes later murmured voices and the chink of china could be heard from the kitchen. Marge knew it could not be long now before she learned what agonies they were to be subjected to as punishment.

The clock had struck the quarter hour for the third time before the living room door opened again. It was Miss Thomas that spoke first.

“Don’t turn round.” She ordered. “Just listen carefully. Robert you will be punished as I think you expect by your mother. I shall also be giving you something to remind you not to lead my girls astray. Your mother and I do not expect you to be in any fit state to drive tonight, so your Mother will ensure you are up in good time tomorrow morning instead. Marjorie, you have a simple choice. You can experience exactly the same as Robert, in which case you can carry on riding, or you can have the original punishment, which will involve being banned, and four strokes of the cane on your return to school. Which is it to be?”

Marge did not need long to think. Robert had put himself on the line for her and she was not going to let him down. Despite her resolve she had palpitations in her stomach as she replied: “I’ll take the same as Robert please.”

“Very well,” replied Mrs Thomas. “I should say that I have spoken to your mother this afternoon and she is very disappointed with you. She has agreed to you being punished in the manner you have just accepted.”

“So,” started Mrs Hodges. “Which of you is going first?”

Marge was filled with a sudden desire to get this over with and said: “I will, please.”

She noticed as she turned that Robert clearly had had the same idea, but the two older ladies eyes were both on her as she had spoken first.

“Follow me then,” intimated Mrs Hodges.

Marge found herself sandwiched front and back between the two older ladies as she climbed the stairs. She felt like the proverbial condemned prisoner being led to her doom. Mrs Hodges opened a door to the left that led into a large airy bathroom. A long wooden bathbrush was one of the items on a small shelf behind the taps.

Mrs Hodges picked it up.

There were two handles on either side of the tub. Marge was instructed to bend over and grab the one on the further side.

Marge remembered Robert’s description of his mother’s punishment. If that was another price of equal treatment then she was prepared to pay it. She blushed as she nervously asked: “Do I need to take my pants down?” And continued, given the confusion on their faces: “Err, Robert mentioned that he got it that way.”

The two ladies looked briefly at each other before Miss Thomas took the initiative. “Very well, get on with it then.”

Marge took a breath and pulled them down to her ankles. She wondered if she had just made things worse for both of them as she settled into the requested position.

She was feeling quite sick with nerves as Mrs Hodges spoke. “Usually I would give six for racing but I am going to add three to Robert for proposing the race and to Marge here for abuse of the whip.”

Out of the corner of her eye, standing at the door Marge saw her headmistress nod.

Marge had never felt a paddle, other than a slipper, before. Nine did not seem too bad. Could it really be worse than six of the best? She felt the cold wood touch briefly on her backside, and then it had gone.


Pain started to blossom in her left buttock. But, before she had a chance to react.


A second blow landed quickly on the right hand side. “Yeeouch!” Exclaimed Marge.

“One!” Announced Mrs Hodges.

“What!!!” thought Marge as her bottom burned with the result of the first two impacts. She had just found out that it was to be nine on each side of her backside. That was an altogether different proposition.

After four pairs of swats Marge felt she was in a far worse state than the six of the best she had got last year for being caught for the third time out of bed after lights out. Despite her best intentions, after the fifth pair she was crying and bawling like a baby. She had tried to be brave given she knew Robert was listening downstairs, but it was too much.

Her bottom was bucking and wriggling as it tried to deal with the pain. Her hands gripped desperately to the chrome handle on the other side of the bath. Vaguely she heard Mrs Hodges reminding her to hold on if she did not want extra, and also exhorting her to keep still as each pair of swats was followed by a pause for the pain to register as well as the count.

Splat! Splat! “Nine!”

Finally the swats stopped. Marge did not immediately get up but stayed in position with tears flowing freely as she cried. Eventually it registered she was to stand and pull her knickers up.

Gingerly she eased the fabric over her bottom and was led downstairs by Miss Thomas with her hands cradling the damaged area. Once back in the lounge she immediately found herself back in ‘her’ corner, hands on back on her head.

She did not see Robert’s appalled face nor even consciously register his departure with the headmistress to see his mother, still waiting for him in the bathroom. And she was still far too preoccupied with her own pain to have more than a vague awareness of the swats and screams coming from upstairs as Robert’s punishment progressed.

Robert had promised himself to take his punishment ‘like a man’ in front of Marge’s headmistress, but the pain led him into the same state as Marge long before his mother got to the ninth pair of swats.

All too soon he was returned sobbing to ‘his’ corner, and the two ladies left them to calm down.

It was about quarter of an hour later that Marge heard the door open again. Both of them were still snuffling.

“Both of you get dressed.” Mrs Hodges ordered. It took what seemed like an age for Marge to comply. She glimpsed Robert as she did so and could only assume the bright red cheeks displayed below his white underpants were matched by her own.

Finally they both stood nervously facing the two older women. They both noticed their riding crops were lying on the coffee table.

Miss Thomas picked up Marge’s one. “Normally I would use a cane, but given what you did to Phaeton I think there is a certain justice in using this. As your bottom I think has had enough I am going to give your two on each hand for embarrassing the school.”

Marge and Robert both gulped. Robert watched nervously as Marge reluctantly proffered her left hand. He had never been caned on the hands at school and therefore had no idea what to expect. In contrast, Marge on the other hand knew exactly what to expect. While only the Head could whack their backsides, other teachers could give a couple on the hands, which she really hated, far more than a couple to her rear.

The crop whipped down and cut into her palm. Marge grimaced and screwed her eyes shut as she waited for the second. She heard the thwip as the second cut into her hand and gasped as severe pain visited another part of her anatomy.

While Marge managed to avoid crying out tears were once again trickling from her eyes as the two strokes to her right hand completed her punishment.

As soon as it was over she clamped her hands under her armpits and was mildly surprised that she was allowed to remain in that position as Miss Thomas moved to Robert, who had been subconsciously wringing his hands throughout Marge’s punishment.

Miss Thomas swapped the crop for Robert’s one and told him to put his hand out, which he did slowly.


Robert’s eyes widened and he gasped as the pain registered. Without thinking he waved his hand in the air to assuage the pain.

“How dare you!” Exclaimed his mother. “Val, I suggest you ignore that one and start again!”

Val Thomas nodded, and Robert found to his embarrassment that he was unable to control himself as well as his girlfriend-to-be had managed. While he did manage to keep his hands in place, his cries as the crop cut into his hands made it clear how much he disliked this new form of punishment.

Finally it was over. As Marge left with Miss Thomas she heard his mother sending Robert to bed with dire threats if he considered refusing the order. She was glad her own mother was not such a harsh disciplinarian as Mrs Hodges clearly was.

Marge wriggled uncomfortably in the back seat of Miss Thomas’ car as it bounced along a mostly rough track back to school. Sent to her dorm immediately she promised herself (while lying on her stomach) never again to be foolish enough to misbehave whilst riding. However, she reflected as she considered the prospective date, at least there looked to be a handsome silver lining to this particular cloud.

The End