Heartfield Ranch (Communities of Discipline Book 2) (9 page)

“I was really proud of you tonight.” Ann Marie’s eyes shone with love as she looked at her handsome husband lying in bed beside her.

“For what?”

“For standing up for me, Jake. I sometimes forget that some people here still resent me and think I don’t belong. And then something like this happens and I’m reminded of all the trouble I caused by coming to Heartfield.”

“Mike is just one person, baby. And he’s always been one of our more negative members. You know that.” Jake gave his wife’s hair a reassuring stroke.

“I don’t know.” Ann Marie sighed heavily. “I sometimes think that Mike is saying what everyone else is thinking.” She turned to Jake. “God knows I love you, but sometimes I wonder if your life wouldn’t have been easier if you’d married someone from a different background. In the dim light, her eyes were welling with visible tears.

“Ann Marie, I think I know exactly what you need.” Jake rose from the bed and extended his hand to his wife, who sat up and looked at him warily.

“You do?”

“We both do,” he replied. “You need a reminder of why you moved here, for one thing, something to help you refocus. And then you need a reminder of who’s in charge, of who in this family has assumed the authority and, with it, all the worries that you now seem to think you have permission to assume.”

“No, Jake. It’s not necessary…,” she began. But her husband was already sitting on the edge of their bed, patting his lap. And as much as Ann Marie dreaded what was to follow, she also knew she needed it, even craved it on some level.

Jake did not have to tell his wife to assume the position over his lap. She went over willingly, her breath coming in anxious little pants as he raised the nightgown to reveal her bare bottom.

“Do you doubt my ability to protect not just you, Ann Marie, but your standing in this community? By worrying, you seem to doubt my ability. This spanking is going to remind you that such doubt displeases me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she said meekly, and then let out a little cry as Jake’s hand impacted her bottom with the first stinging smack.

Soon Ann Marie was crying as her husband’s hand peppered her bottom with steady blows, the skin of her pert cheeks rapidly reddening under the disciplinary onslaught. She tried to stay still, but when the pain became too much and she began to struggle, Jake gripped her waist, holding her still as he lobbed a volley of hard smacks to the lower portion of her buttocks.

“Oooowwww!” Ann Marie was wailing now as she kicked her toned legs in an effort to work herself off Jake’s lap. He was not going easy on her; underneath his hand, he could feel the heat rising from her skin with each swat. His wife would have a hard time sitting down in the morning.

But Jake was far from done. When his wife’s bottom had the acceptable cherry hue of a well-disciplined behind, he helped her from his lap and directed her to bend forward on the bed. Jake moved to stand behind his wife, and for several long moments, he regarded her red bottom as she maintained her submissive position, sobbing softly into the bedcovers.

“It’s been a while since I took you here,” he said, and Ann Marie flinched as Jake spread her tender bottom cheeks to gently rim the hole of her anus with his finger. “I think that’s what you need, a stronger reminder of your place.” He paused. “Is that what you need?”

He didn’t need a verbal answer. Moving his fingers just a couple of inches south told Jake all he needed to know. Ann Marie’s pussy was dripping, and he smiled at her response.

“Oh yes,” he said. “That’s exactly what you need. But first, I think this needs some attention.” He’d slipped two fingers into her sopping pussy, and now replaced them with his rock hard cock, sliding into her with one brutal stroke that had her coming almost immediately. Jake could not help but smile down at his wife as he began to pump into her. Her submissive posture during fucking was simply a sexual manifestation of their lifestyle. They both sought such pleasure from their roles. They both accepted it without shame or apology.

Jake withdrew his cock now. His wife’s orgasm had threatened to milk the seed waiting to erupt, and he had a different place to deposit it tonight. Sliding his finger through her slit, he used the juices collected there to coat his finger and slide it inside her bottom hole.

He had plugged her during their early days, gradually increasing the size of the plugs until she was able to accommodate his cock with little muscular resistance. He’d trained her to take all of him, and now reminded her of what to do as he nudged the head of his member against her tight rosebud and began to push.

“Push out, baby. Push out,” he coaxed, and Ann Marie complied, bearing down in a manner which ironically eased the passage of his cock head past the ring of muscles. As he slipped in inch by inch, he heard his wife groan anew and lifted her slightly off the bed, slipping a finger between her legs to play with her swollen clit as he began to pump back and forth into her.

“Ah, baby, your ass is so tight.” He groaned with her, lost in the pleasure. “Who does it belong to?” When she hesitated to answer, he gave her bottom cheek a slap and she cried out in pleasure-pain.”

“Y-y-you!” she cried. Ann Marie could feel her orgasm building again and pushed back to meet her husband’s thrusts. Soon they were crying out together as he spurted hot cum deep into her upraised ass.

“Are you going to be my good girl?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. Yes, Jake. I’ll be your good girl. I promise.”

Jake reluctantly pulled his cock from Ann Marie’s ass, standing back for a moment to watch cum leak out of her gaping hole. She was so beautiful like that, he thought, so submissive. She may have started out as a city girl, but she was now the perfect Heartfield woman. He smiled. It was his pleasure to remind her of this as many times as was necessary.

Karen knew she was expected to call the station, even though she didn’t want to. It had been an almost idyllic day that had begun with her mulling over the lakeside conversations he’d had with Clay the night before. By eight o’clock, Ann Marie had shown her how to milk a goat and by midmorning, she’d joined Mike Stoltz’s wife, Kaye, in the community kitchen for a tutorial on how to make cheese.

It was a relatively simple process that consisted of heating the milk, adding the culture and rennet and then waiting for the curds to separate from the whey.

“Afterwards we just hang the whey in muslin to drain for another twelve hours or so and voila – you’ve got fresh goat cheese.” Kaye led Karen over to a sideboard, where some of the other women were mixing soft white lumps of the cheese with herbs and spices.

“Wow,” Karen said, “that’s pretty amazing.”

Kaye smiled at her, and Karen thought that she had the most pleasant face she’d ever seen, with her slightly pudgy cheeks and twinkling eyes.

Kaye picked up several of the packets, walked over to the kitchen’s large walk-in refrigerator and put them on a shelf before shutting the heavy door with a thud.

“After we season the cheese, it sits in the fridge until Saturday morning when it’s all packed up and sold at the farmer’s market. Soap, too. Let me know if you want to learn to make that.”

“It’s fun.” Nikki Longtree walked over, and Karen recognized her as the woman married to a Native American Heartfield man named Abel. “The first time I made soap I worried that I’d burn the place down, but now I’m almost as good as Kaye.”

“Almost? Hell, she’s better!” Kaye laughed. “Really, it is an interesting process. You want to start today or do you want to wait?”

“I probably need to wait,” Karen said. “There’s so much to see here. So much more than I expected.”

Over the course of the day, she was scheduled to make the rounds and learn all the ways the women contributed to the inner workings of the compound. This included meeting with the midwife, Emma Willets, who delivered babies of both members and visitors to the compound, as well as doulas, who worked both at the compound but made occasional calls to an outside birthing center.

Karen wanted to concentrate on what they had to say, but feared she could not until the dread of calling in to the station had been lifted. Clay had given her back her cell phone, and now she sat in the room she’d been given at the Wickhams’ and dialed the number.

Jarvis answered on the second ring and seemed relieved to hear her voice.

“So what’s going on?” he asked.

“Same as last time,” she said. “They’re farming, tending livestock, raising kids … the typical subversive activities you’d expect from a band of idealistic hippies.”

Jarvis snorted a laugh. “Sarcastic as ever,” he laughed, then his voice grew serious and low. “The boss is getting impatient.”

“For what?”

“Results? What do you think?”

“This is an investigation, Jarvis, not a witch hunt,” Karen said. “I’m only reporting on what I see here.”

“Well, he thinks … hold on a sec.” Jarvis had put the phone down and was talking to someone else. A moment later he returned. “Well speak of the devil.”

“What?” she asked.

“That was Sheriff Smith. He was walking past and asked if I’d heard from you. When I said I had you on the line he said he wanted to talk to you. He’s on his way to his office. I’m going to transfer you here in a minute.”

Karen rolled her eyes. “Jeez, Jarvis! I wish you hadn’t done that. I don’t have anything to tell him!”

“Well you’d better think of something. And fast.”

The line went silent and then Karen heard a click followed by the sound of the sheriff’s voice.

“Officer Patterson!” His voice was jovial, rehearsed. “How are you?”

“Fine,” she said. “I’m still out in Heartfield.”

“So I hear,” he said. “And what have you found out?”

Karen gave him the same rundown she’d given the others. Heartfield was certainly eccentric, and ultra-traditional, but from what she’d discerned posed no threat to the community at large.

The sheriff was silent, save for an exasperated sigh. “And Ann Marie Fales? How is she?”

“Married,” Karen replied. “She’s Ann Marie Markum now, and by all appearances is here of her own free will and very happy with her life.”

Karen closed her eyes, wishing she’d thought before she’d given him so much information. Even with Clay’s permission, talking to the sheriff felt like a betrayal.

“I’m going to stay on a little while longer, Sheriff, but honestly I don’t think I’m going to find anything.”

“Now you listen to me.” The calm rehearsed tone of Sheriff Smith’s voice was gone, replaced by an obvious irritability. “If you aren’t finding something, it’s because you aren’t looking hard enough. Ann Marie Fales did not enter that compound in her right mind, and if she married then she obviously did so under duress!

“Sheriff Smith. With all due respect,” she began, but he interrupted her, yelling now.

“Damn it, Patterson, I didn’t put you out there to watch you get all sympathetic over these hippies. I put you out there because Jarvis and Clemmons said you were tough and capable. Now, I want you to start doing your job or I’ll jerk you out of there and find someone who will. And let me tell you that if that happens it won’t just be your ass in a sling, but Clemmons’ and Jarvis’ to boot!”

Karen’s instinct was to yell back, to tell him that Jarvis and Clemmons had nothing to do with this, and that she couldn’t manufacture evidence that simply did not exist. But it occurred to her that if he made good on his threat, there were any number of up-and-coming officers who would be more than pleased to investigate Heartfield and “see” what the Sheriff wanted. Gaining Smith’s favor in a political year could pay off big dividends to anyone credited with helping him along the road to victory, and Karen knew he didn’t just want to find something amiss in Heartfield - he needed to.

“Yes, sir,” she said, nearly choking on the words. “I’ll look harder. I’m sure there’s something I’m missing.”

She pushed the “end” button on the phone and closed it, and sat there on the edge of the bed for several long minutes, wondering what was happening to her. Less than a week ago she’d been a gung-ho policewoman, all too eager to bust up a community on even the hint of a patriarchal structure. But now that she’d met the people here, she found herself not only liking them, but secretly envying what they had.

There was a difference between being gently led and being bullied. Sheriff Smith wanted her to find evidence of abuse, when he was far more abusive than any of the men she’d seen at Heartfield.  When Clay had spanked her, it had been because she deserved it. She’d been told beforehand that there would be consequence and defied them, even though what he’d asked of her was fair. Sheriff Smith, on the other hand, was threatening to penalize her for being honest. And he had threatened the job security of two of her co-workers to further manipulate her. The values were completely contradictory, and she began to realize what drew people to places like Heartfield in the first place.

But she knew that while she was here she’d have to walk a line between both the world she worked in and the world she was visiting. She’d already betrayed them both; she’d hidden the truth from Clay until he’d forced it from her, and she’d lied to Clemmons when she told him she was still undercover. She’d even lied to the Sheriff. Women were physically punished here, but it was by their choice. Was it wrong to hide that information from the authorities? There were no easy answers.

And then there was Ann Marie. In many ways she felt worse for her than for anyone else. She’d just given Sheriff Smith information about her. And while her intentions were good, now that he had her new last name it was only a matter of time before Jake Markum would be targeted. Just what depths would an unscrupulous sheriff stoop to in order to get re-elected? Would he ask her to lie? To frame someone?

Karen dropped her head in her hands and let out a heavy sigh. Part of her wanted to run straight to Clay, to warn him. But that would be interfering with an investigation. She had to find a way to neutralize the situation, to convince her bosses that nothing was out of the ordinary in Heartfield, or at least that nothing illegal was going on. But she was completely clueless about how to make that happen. What in the world, she wondered, had she gotten herself into?

***

“Something’s bothering you.” He’d come up behind her in the barn, where she’d gone to sit and think.

When Karen saw Clay, she turned and smiled. She wished she could tell him everything. But she knew she couldn’t.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “Really.”

He sat down beside her. “You don’t mind, do you?”

She shook her head. No she didn’t mind; in fact it was just what she wanted.

“Did you call in to the station?” he asked.

Karen nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“And?”

“And I told them the truth. There’s nothing to report.”

He shook his head. “They won’t go away that easily.”

“What makes you think that?” she asked.

“I get feelings,” he said, and when she looked quizzically at him he reddened, slightly embarrassed. “Feelings and dreams. It’s not something I tell most people. I don’t even tell the people here. I mean, if I sat everyone down and started spouting off about visions then I
would
sound like a crazy cult leader, even to myself.” He looked over at her. “But I’m telling you.”

“Why?”

Clay picked up a piece of hay and dropped it on the ground. “I dunno. Maybe because you seem like somebody I can trust with my secrets.”

Karen’s heart twisted in her chest. It was a good but painful feeling.

“So what do your feelings tell you?” she asked.

“They tell me that something out there’s out to get us, and for a very selfish reason.”

A chill went up Karen’s spine. His feelings were remarkably accurate, she thought, given the situation.

“They asked about Ann Marie,” she said suddenly. It felt wrong not to divulge a little of the conversation, especially since he felt comfortable enough to open up to her.

“Really? Well, that’s no surprise. What did you tell them?”

“That she was happy and here of her own free will.”

“Did you tell them anything else?

“No,” she replied, just as quickly. Karen had known from the moment she’d mentioned the marriage that she’d made a mistake. And she wasn’t about to let Clay know how careless she’d been.

“I’m surprised they didn’t press you more about her,” Clay said. “Her parents are pretty determined to get her out of here.”

“They probably feel rejected,” Karen said. “It must be hard to have your child turn her back on you, even if it’s for a good reason.”

“Generally kids come back, if they have a good foundation to come back to,” Clay replied. “I don’t think Ann Marie sees anything real with her family.”

“Do you want kids?” asked Karen.

“Oh yeah,” said Clay with a sigh. “I sure do. A couple of strapping boys and two or three beautiful little girls to dote on.” He looked at her. “Hopefully with their mother’s good looks.”

Karen blushed to the roots of her hair and she felt suddenly flushed with a strong sense of want she’d never experienced.

“Kiss me,” she said suddenly, and hadn’t had a chance to ponder what had spawned such a reckless request before Clay was complying, his mouth warm and coaxing against hers, his strong arms wrapped around her body.

She’d never felt such bliss, so it came as a surprise to both of them when their lips parted and she began to weep.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Clay tipped her chin up till she as facing him. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m..it’s just…God, Clay . . . I’m just so confused!”

“That’s to be expected,” he replied gently. “You came out here thinking you were going to find a bunch of kooks and discovered that you cared for one of them.”

Karen laughed through her tears, but the stabbing pain of guilt cut into her happiness. She could not tell him that it wasn’t her feelings she was confused about; they were crystal clear. She was madly, deeply attracted to Clay Sanders. No, what confused her was how she was going to fit who she was and what she was supposed to be doing into a possible relationship with this man. It wasn’t as if she could just go quit her job tomorrow and be with him. She had debts, commitments. She couldn’t just walk away, even if she wanted to.

“It’s not that,” she finally said. “It’s just…”

“It’s alright,” he said when she didn’t respond further. “You don’t have to put voice to it until you’re ready.”

He took her in his arms and held her, just held her. And for a few brief and magical moments, Karen Patterson pretended that this was the only part of her life that existed at all.