"Bzzz, bzzz, splutter, cough ... cough, silence." The engine of my radio controlled model aircraft cut out at the worst possible moment. A few more seconds and the plane would have been over the field where I could have glided it to a safe landing but I'd decided to circle it around the oak tree at the end of our garden and, whilst out of my sight for a few moments, the engine stopped.

Our house, one of a row of semi-detached houses, have gardens that back on to a hay field and I've put a box each side of the fence so that I can climb over easily and fly my planes. The owner of the field doesn't mind and always shows an interest in them when he's seen me there. The plane appeared briefly and lower than I expected and, without power it would not be able to gain enough height to return to the field. Almost automatically I straightened the rudder and set the ailerons to glide it gently downwards. From its glide path I estimated it would come down in the Carson's garden, three doors from mine. Quickly I climbed back into my garden, dumped the control box on the patio table and ran around to the Carson house. I knew Mrs. Carson would still be at work so I didn't bother knocking at her door but continued to the bottom of her garden where to my joy, I found the plane intact and nestling between a couple of bushes. "I couldn't have found a better landing place if I'd tried," I muttered as I knelt and examined the plane for damage. A movement caught my eye; Bethany Carson, in her ground floor bedroom, moved about whilst changing out of her school uniform. The blinds were wide open and with the sun shining directly into the room, I could see her clearly. Normally no one would be in her garden so she uninhibitedly and unknowingly, revealed all her charms to me. The sight put me in a quandary. Should I show myself or should I keep hidden and watch? Not much of a choice for a sixteen-year-old boy when the subject was an attractive girl a few months younger; a girl I played with until a few years ago when the onset of puberty changed her personality and she became ill tempered.

From the way she moved as she undressed, I guessed she had music playing in the background and the undressing took on the character of a strip-tease act. At the time, I wondered if she'd actually seen me and was putting on a show for my benefit, but I remained cautious and hidden until she turned her back to the window and I could move to a better position behind a larger bush. I found out later, she saw my movement in her mirror and thereafter, I only saw her back until she finished dressing and left the room.

Waiting some minutes without seeing her return to the room, I made my escape only to be confronted by Beth's angry voice as she stepped out of the side door and blocked my passage. "You bloody peeping-tom, you pervert, spying on me from my own garden. Well you won't do that again in a hurry." She swung a leather handbag and hit my head twice. I'd no idea what she kept in it, but it certainly knocked me for six. I staggered back, dropping my plane and took a blow to the stomach that knocked the breath out of my body and sent me backwards to the concrete path. The impact of my head hitting the hard surface caused me to see stars and I lay there barely conscious. Beth hadn't finished. Her foot unmercifully kicked my exposed crotch twice causing me to scream in agony but she ignored my pain and ordered, "Get up you sneaky sod and get off our property. You just wait until mother get's home and tells the police." It didn't work out that way.

Hardly able to walk, I staggered to the road and collapsed and knew nothing more until I came round in the ambulance and even then my memory of the events that followed are only vignettes of being wheeled into the hospital and someone cutting off my trousers. Mother sat at my bedside when I came round and I vaguely remember a policeman standing nearby. Such was my state of mind at the time, that I thought he was there to arrest me. The shock put me to sleep again and all I can remember of that time is gripping mother's hand so tightly, she winced.

They must have given me something to make me sleep as morning light came through the window and the large clock on the ward wall read 6:10 when I next awoke and tried to sit up, but I seemed to have more wires and tubes connected to me, than in my radio control unit. A nurse came and I shyly said I needed to go to the loo but she brought one of those cardboard pee bottles and to my embarrassment pulled the duvet down and inserted my penis into it. Even her gentle touch caused me a lot of pain. "Sorry," she whispered, "You're very swollen and bruised down there and won't be walking anywhere for a while. I expect you're thirsty." I nodded. "I'll bring you some juice and a couple of painkillers which should tide you over until breakfast at about eight o'clock."

Mother came later that morning and a doctor and a policewoman came with her. The doctor explained my injuries in clinical terms. I knew my balls were swollen because I'd seen them when the nurse checked after breakfast, and I could feel the lump on the back of my head but hadn't seen the bruising of my face although it felt sore and I found it difficult to open my eyes fully. He said they would keep me in for at least another day to keep an eye on any concussion problems but then I could go home and I was to rest. He'd make an appointment for me to return for a check-up in a week. Mother questioned him on my treatment but they didn't think it necessary to keep me in longer and would give me a prescription for painkillers and anti-inflammatory drugs.

When he left, mother and the policewoman wanted to know what happened. "Would you mind if I ask the questions and record your answers on my machine?" the policewoman asked and when Mother and I agreed, she went on, "You are Mark Hifield and you live at 23 Broomway Road, Middleton?" I confirmed this and in a voice distorted by the pain, related the events that led to my beating. My expected scolding from mother for watching Beth undress didn't come and I learned that Beth might very well be in serious trouble, mainly because she'd deliberately put four large potatoes in her handbag and thus made it a premeditated attack using a weapon. I wondered how often potatoes had been considered weaponry but Beth certainly used them to devastating effect if my head was anything to go by.

The doctor's kept me in an extra day but even so, I found it difficult to walk and climb the stairs to my bedroom and mother borrowed a folding wheelchair from a woman across the road so she could wheel me into the garden and from one room to another. At least at home I had things to keep me occupied although I spent a lot of time lying on my bed, thinking about what happened and the sight of Bethany's body. The policewoman came again and took a proper statement and asked if we intended to press charges against my assailant. Quite fairly, she pointed out that if Bethany got a good lawyer, they might find it difficult to get a conviction because of my invasion of her privacy. Mother and I decided against pursuing it, she'd been friendly with Ruth Carson since their schooldays and Ruth had always been okay with me when I used to play with Beth.

I heard Ruth arrive as mother prepared tea but when she brought my food up, mother never mentioned her. They continued talking for an hour or more but, although I strained to listen, with a thumping headache, I couldn't pick up more than the odd word. I knew they discussed Beth and me but couldn't get any idea of what they said. Mum had emailed Dad who is working in Dubai and he wanted to take a belt to Bethany's bum but we all knew that was out of the question these days. Eventually mum came to collect the tea tray and asked, "Would you mind if Ruth comes up to talk to you? She asks to bring Beth as well." Before I could answer and refuse, she went on, "I think you should. She needs to apologise for her daughter and has some interesting ideas on punishing Beth. She knows her daughter is in the wrong and is thankful that we are not going to take her to court, whatever the likely outcome."

They arrived just as I walked wide-legged from the bathroom and watched as I lifted myself painfully on to the bed. The swelling of my balls had gone down a little but were still much larger than normal and my prick and the whole of that area, including my stomach where they thought I might have bruised organs, were blue/black. I could open my eyes now but with two black patches around them, I looked like a panda. Certainly I had no wish to entertain visitors and definitely I didn't want to see Bethany Carson. That she had no wish to see me was equally obvious from the way her mother dragged her by the wrist. Ruth began by sincerely apologising for the pain and suffering Beth caused me. "Yes, you were naughty to have spied on her but I suppose that was only a natural thing to do given the circumstances. If nothing else had happened, you'd have been given a telling off and that would have been the end of the matter but Beth's brutal attack made the situation much worse. I'm not going to ask her to apologise because any she would give now, would not be sincere but perhaps in the future she might do so. I wanted her to see the full extent of your injuries, injuries that she caused and get an idea of the pain you are going through." She turned and dragged Beth close and made her look at my face and the lump still on the back of my head.

"I hope you won't mind Mark, if I show her your other injury." I felt myself blushing. "You saw all she has so it should only be fair for her to see a little of you. Your mother told me about it and said the doctors don't believe there will be any permanent dysfunction but I'm told it could easily have happened." She carefully took hold of my pyjama elastic waistband and pulled the front down. I blushed furiously but Ruth insisted Beth take a close look even when she turned her head away several times.

Ruth replaced my pyjamas and went on, "On her behalf, I will plead there were mitigating circumstances. When she was twelve..."

"Don't tell him!" The first words Beth had uttered since her arrival.

"I am going to tell him so that he understands and it may help when it comes to your punishments. Sit in the chair over there and keep quiet." Muttering and covering her ears, Beth did as her mother ordered. "When she was twelve and began to develop into a woman, her father took to watching her and going into the bathroom when she bathed and using the towel to dry her. I gather this went on for some weeks on the evenings when I had committee meetings. Eventually he started to undress too and pressured her to have oral sex. I came home early one night and found her crying and smelling of his sex and heard the story. I threw him out and threatened to expose him to the police if he ever came near us again. I obtained a divorce but since that time, Bethany has been afraid of men and seeing you watching, brought back bad memories. While that is no excuse for her deliberately harming you, I hope it will help you to understand her feelings at the time. I believe your story that your being in our garden at the time was accidental and you had little option but to watch but maybe it would have been better for you to have shown yourself." I said I was sorry I didn't do that but I thought I'd be in trouble whatever I did and by staying and hiding, I hoped not to be seen at all.

"I found the pieces of your plane in the wheelie bin and I'm sure it wasn't in that state when you left it but maybe there are parts you can salvage."

She handed me a plastic carrier bag. Inside were the crushed and broken remains of the wings and fuselage that had been ripped apart or jumped on in order to get it in the bin. I glared hate at Beth. This was pure vindictiveness. I examined the wreckage. "Only the control gear and motor are reusable. All the many hours of work in constructing it were wasted, and I'll have to start from scratch as soon as I can afford to buy another kit. It flew so well too."

"The cost is not something you'll have to worry over but I'll get to that in a minute." Going to the door, she called for mother who came promptly. "Come in Mary, I wanted to give Beth the chance to say privately she was sorry for the pain she caused and offer to make amends for what she did, but that's obviously not going to happen so we'll have to go to plan B." We all looked at Beth sitting somewhat ashamedly in the corner chair but she didn't look at us. "Deep down I believe she regrets her actions but is too stubborn to say so. Mark, your mother and I have discussed Beth's behaviour, and yours too, and tried to agree on a suitable punishment".

"It's his fault, he shouldn't have spied on me." Beth burst out.

"And you think what you did, was just and fair? No Beth, he didn't deserve more than a reprimand. As I said we discussed both of you and the punishment you should receive. Mark's father wanted me to take a belt to your bottom so you felt some of the pain he is feeling but, apart from being illegal and likely to get us into trouble, we felt it would be too quick and easy and only serve to increase your hatred of each other. Our punishment is an ongoing one, one where you will have to cooperate with each other and you'll have to assist him until he recovers." Both Beth and I looked at each other and wondered what she had in mind. I didn't want her assistance and she didn't wish to give it.

"First the easy part. Beth, you smashed his plane and therefore you will replace it by going with him to the model shop and paying for it out of your pocket money. You will also help him when he makes the new model and even if you don't actually help, you will sit with him while he does the work. At least then you will realise the amount of work involved in the making and can compare it with the seconds it took you to destroy it. You are good at craftwork so it may well be more interesting for you to actually help, but however long it takes, you'll be with him."

"No way!" she yelled.

"I'd rather do it on my own," I added.

"Yes, you might prefer that Mark, but that's part of your punishment. You used to get along well together and maybe some of that might return when you begin to work and trust each other."

"You don't have any real friends, none that you bring home anyway," Mother added her piece, "And Beth doesn't either and we thought that if you can learn to live with each other you might learn to live with others."

"That's the first item on the punishment list. The second is when Mark is well enough to go out, you will go with him to buy a pair of trousers, pants and a Tee shirt because they destroyed the ones he wore to the hospital. Again the cost will come out of your pocket money. And don't think of going to the charity shops either."

"I'll be broke for ever if he decides on designer jeans!"

"No, similar stuff to what he wore but even so it will take a few weeks to pay it. Mary will see he doesn't cheat on you and in any case, I doubt that Mark is into designer clothes." Beth muttered something about my being a tramp but Ruth ignored it and went on, "Thirdly, you both have important end of term exams in about a month. You take many of the same classes and compete against each other for the top three or four places in each subject. Mark will be off school for at least another week during this important time, you will make sure you collect his work and bring it here after school and go through it with him and revise the work together. From what I remember of my school days and the courses I did afterwards, revising with another person was far more beneficial than studying alone. This study method will continue until after the exams."

"If she just brings me the work, that will be okay," I interrupted, "She doesn't need to stay."

"She does, and she will stay and help you, not only with the coursework but with looking after you until you are better. She's more capable of getting up and down the stairs than you are." She turned back to Beth, "For a few days, you may have to act as a nursemaid but that won't hurt you."

"Jesus, seems that you'll be wanting me to sleep with him next."

"No, you're fifteen for another three weeks and even when you get to the age of consent, I shan't expect you to do that unless there is real love between you. You're on the pill but not for that reason as well you know."

"You can't make me do any of this. I can simply refuse and you daren't lift a finger."

"No, we cannot and we'll not give you a spanking or anything like that. We refused to sanction it when Mark's father suggested it but he has another card he is playing. Unless you agree to these conditions, he will insist that the police take action against you for harming his son. That would put your whole life and career in jeopardy. You'd have a police record for violence that would come out whenever you applied for a place at college or tried for a job."

"That's blackmail!"

"Think about it Beth. There are advantages for you too although you might not recognise them yet."

They left soon after and I spent a little time talking it over with mother until I felt drowsy and she let me doze. I did say I would email dad and plead with him not to take any action over Beth.

I woke in the early hours of the morning but didn't try to turn over to see the clock. The hazy dawn light shone through the window and in early June, there wasn't many hours of darkness. Unable to get back to sleep, my thoughts tried to analyse the events of the previous evening and, indeed, of the previous few days. Almost all my thoughts revolved around Bethany and the way our parents wanted to thrust us together. In a way I could understand Ruth wanting to minimise her daughter's trouble but why would my mother wish me to make friends with a girl who hated me enough to put me in hospital? Ruth is a dominant, forthright, but usually friendly person, whereas mother is easy going and generally willing to comply with the wishes of others. Ruth works full-time as an office supervisor and earns enough to pay the bills with a little to spare; mother works part-time as a receptionist, more out of interest than necessity. Dad is in a high paying job in charge of a plant installation in Dubai but only gets home for a week every three months. We're not rich but comfortably well off so why did they insist on Beth paying for my clothes? They weren't my best and mother pays for them anyway. The model aircraft came out of my funds and I could afford to buy the new kit but after seeing how she wantonly smashed my plane, I wanted her to pay.

Ruth spoke correctly when she said I hadn't any real friends. I never brought anyone home from school and certainly I'd never had a girlfriend but did I wish Beth to fill that role? Her figure is attractive enough. Light blonde hair, about 5' 3'', not much shorter than me, nice tits as I saw clearly on that fateful afternoon, but her negative personality and her refusal to have anything to do with me or other boys, kept her away from everyone, including other girls. At most subjects we were rivals but it wasn't really friendly rivalry, more cut and thrust competition, at least on her part. She never praised me when I beat her, but generally smirked when her marks topped mine.

I puzzled over why Ruth deliberately made Beth look at my swollen and bruised prick and balls and why was I told she was on the pill? Reading between the lines or misinterpreting them, it seemed that if we became friends, in a few weeks we could have sex. I knew it would be another week before I dared to wank myself, and several more after that before I went back to the hospital for a sperm count check.

As our science teacher would say, "If you can't see the answer to the problem, try looking at it from a different point of view." I tried to put myself in Beth's place and could see the impositions almost amounted to slavery. To her, with her angst, she'd believe she was a full-blown slave and would kick against me, her unwilling master. Whatever thoughts our parents had of our becoming friends, were doomed if we followed their rules and regulations. I resolved to try and talk with Beth to find a solution but I doubted we would even get as far as talking. I drifted back to sleep wondering if Beth had similar thoughts.

"Here's your homework and revision assignments and some from earlier in the week." Beth threw the paper and a book on the bed.

"Thanks, Beth, are there any instructions with them?"

"Yeah, I wrote them down in case your brain was affected, Panda Face." I winced at the remark and the look of disgust she gave me. "Don't expect me to go through it all with you, I have my own work to do." She sat in the chair at my desk, took her books from her bag and spread them over where I would normally work. "If I've got to stay with you, then I need space." She turned her back to me. Not a good start.

"Beth?"

"Yes, Master?"

Her reply confirmed my suspicion that she felt like a slave. "Turn round, we have to talk." Half turning so I saw her sideways but couldn't look her directly in the face, she slumped resignedly in the chair. "Bethany Carson, I don't want this any more than you do. You're not a slave to me but it seems we are both slaves to our parents. I've emailed my father and asked him not to contact the police or try to get you prosecuted even if you don't conform to our parents' wishes. He hasn't replied yet but it's usually another hour before he finishes work. If you look in my sent folder, you can read what I said." She just shrugged. "What that means is that our mothers no longer have a trump card and you are free to go home. You don't want to be here and I'd prefer to work on my own without the agro. Your mother's idea that revising together is more beneficial, only works if the two are not fighting; fighting verbally and fighting for space. They were damn stupid to think we could work in one room and sharing one computer. Go home Beth, tell your mother I've given you your freedom and enjoy your weekend. I would be grateful though if you will take my homework in on Monday and bring some books and things from my locker. I'll give you the combination to the lock. Go home and defy your mother like I'm going to defy mine."