Heartfield Ranch (Communities of Discipline Book 2)

by Fiona Wilde

  “It doesn’t,” said Ann Marie. “And besides, I’m sure Adam didn’t mean it, did you Adam?”

  “Ann Marie…” Jake shot her a look of warning, and she knew right away she’d said too much.

  “Oh, he means it,” said Sarah, walking to the window and looking out. “Apparently the men here love Heartfield more than they love their wives.”

  Adam walked over to Sarah and took her shoulders, turning her towards him. “That’s not true and you know it,” he said firmly. “This place reflects my values, Sarah - values that are lost in the outside world. If we can’t make it in here, we won’t make it out there. You knew who I was when you came in, when we married here. I won’t ask you to stay, and I won’t let you if you can’t accept the way things are here. But by the same token I won’t go back out to this twisted society and turn my back on what I believe.”

  For a moment there was silence. Jake was the one to break it. “But we didn’t come here to discuss this,” he said. “We came here to get you girls to make peace. Now is it going to happen or not?”

  Ann Marie stood. “I’m ready,” she said and walked over to Sarah.

  “I am sorry that I threw milk on you and said all the things I did,” she said. “I don’t think you’re a vapid idiot. And I’d like to be your friend.”

  “Sarah, your turn,” Adam said.

  Sarah regarded the brunette, and after a moment smirked and looked away. “I’m not at all convinced that you’re about anything but making yourself seem even more a goody-two-shoes bitch. And I’m not at all interested in being your friend.”

  “Ann Marie, you’ve done all you can.” Jake stood and nodded sympathetically towards Adam. “Let’s go, darlin.”

  The two departed, leaving Sarah and Adam alone.

  “So it looks like you have a choice to make,” Adam said. “You can either accept punishment for what you just did or we can talk to Clay when he gets back about convening the council.”

  “For what?” Sarah asked.

  “For the purpose of getting you out of a place where you can never be happy.”

  “So you’re really serious, Adam? You’d really make me leave?”

  Adam nodded. “Yes, Sarah. I’d really make you leave.”

  Tears pooled in Sarah’s blue eyes now, and she bent her blonde head and began to weep. Adam could tell when his wife was faking emotion and recognized these tears as genuine. He was moved, but not to the point of giving in. He had to be firm, not just for the sake of his marriage, but for the sake of the community.

  “I don’t want to go!” she cried. “I love you, Adam. I don’t want to leave!”

  “Alright then,” he said. “Then I think you know what you have to do.”

  Adam sat down in the chair and wordlessly pulled Sarah over his lap. She whimpered as he raised her skirt and pulled her panties down to reveal a bottom that still bore the stripes from the previous day’s switching.

  “Don’t!” she cried. “It still hurts. Please!”

  But Adam ignored her and restrained his wife with his muscular arm. Then, raising his broad hand, he brought it down over and over on her bottom until she was bawling like a child and the stripes were covered in a layer of reddish-purple handprints.

  Sarah kicked and fought, but to no avail. She was no match for her burly husband, who was determined that this spanking would be the one to put her spiky defiance to rest. And Sarah, who wasn’t shy about saying what she felt, was equally immodest during punishment. She wailed and begged for mercy as the spanking continued, and her sobbing pleas drifted across the yard to the house down the street, where undercover police officer Karen Patterson was exiting the vehicle with Heartfield leader Clay Sanders.

  ***

  Karen had not expected to hear actual evidence of the rumors so soon, and at first was at a loss for how to react. To not appear surprised would give her away; to act too terribly indignant could get her shown the door. But the truth was, she was unnerved. The sounds of a hand smacking flesh and a woman’s pained cries could not be mistaken.

  “Is someone being hurt?” She turned to Clay, her eyes wide with genuine concern.

  “Yes, someone’s being hurt. But not harmed.” Clay reached in the back and took out her bags. “Specifically, someone is being spanked. Probably Sarah, by the sounds of it.”

  Karen looked toward the house where the sounds were coming from. “Spanked? But it sounds like a grown-up crying!”

  “That’s because it is.” Clay sighed and put the bags down. The sounds of the smacks were fading, leaving only the sounds of crying and a man’s scolding voice. “Betty, I need you to understand something. Betty?”

  Karen jumped a bit, suddenly remembering that Betty was the name she’d given him.

  “Our ways here are not the ways of the world. This community pulls together, works together. But we are all subject to authority. I’m one of the leaders here, but I answer to the members of Heartfield. Were I to violate their trust, there would be consequences. I could be removed from my position or even banished. If a member here, male or female, breaks the rules, they are punished. Members can be fined, given extra chores, ostracized…but it’s rarely an issue. In private relationships, the men are the leaders. Their wives and children are subject to discipline and yes, some of the men do believe in spanking. And that option isn’t reserved just for the children. The women here know this and accept it. Some women who’ve come to Heartfield even find the notion of that kind of disciplinary structure attractive. The woman you hear being corrected is Sarah. She’s married to Adam and you’ll meet them soon enough. Like all the women, Sarah is here of her own free will and is quite capable of leaving if she wants to. But as long as she stays, it’s with the understanding that her husband can and will correct her.”

  Karen looked at the house. A man was emerging from the house. He had sandy blonde hair and was rolling down the sleeves of his plaid shirt as he walked down the porch steps. A few minutes later a pretty blonde walked out onto the porch, rubbing her bottom and wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve. She and the man exchanged words for a moment, and then she rushed into his arms and he held her close, kissing the top of her head. The scene puzzled Karen, who thought if that had been her she’d be on the phone to 911. And yet this woman seemed to be apologizing to her husband before being embraced.

  “It must seem strange to you.” Clay’s voice broke into her thoughts.

  “Culturally, socially … yes,” Karen said, inclining her head toward the couple. “Most people would consider that abuse.”

  “I was on the outside for years,” said Clay. “I regularly watched many couples – including my parents – abuse themselves and each other with words, actions, drugs, alcohol. You won’t see abuse here. You’ll see loving correction. They are two different things, and everyone is subject to it.”

  Karen turned to him. “Do the men get spanked?”

  “No,” Clay said with a small laugh. “The men here do not get spanked. But they do have to deserve the right to correct their wives. A dishonorable man is not allowed to live here, let alone marry here.”

  Karen cocked her head. “Are you married?”

  Clay laughed. “Funny, I just had someone picking on me about that today.” He jerked his head towards Adam’s house. “In fact, it was Adam there doing the ribbing. The answer is no. I’m not married. Eventually I want to be, but for now I’m unattached, which puts me in the perfect position to serve as your guardian while you’re here.”

  Karen shook her head. “I don’t need a guardian.”

  “No. But you’re getting one in me. It’s the rule. While you’re here, you’ll answer to me.”

  Karen realized her expression must have revealed her shock when he chuckled. “Don’t worry, Betty,” he said. “You seem pretty sensible. I can’t see you getting into much trouble.” He paused. “Do you see yourself getting in trouble?”

  His voice was light, and Karen had the feeling this man was picking on
her, but an exhilarating chill unlike anything she’d ever felt shot through her at the words, sort of a scared excitement that made her blush.

  “No,” she said.

  “Good,” he said. “And remember, if you change your mind and want to leave, you’re welcome to.”

  “I think I’ll be OK here,” Karen said. “It’s not like I have many other options.”

  “Hmmm.” He regarded her for a moment. “Alright then,” he said. “I’m going to see if Randy and Lynette can put you up. They live a little ways down the road. It’ll be more appropriate for you to stay with them, being a single woman. I’ll let them know you’re under my charge, and if you need anything just come to me.”

  Her new hosts, Randy and Lynette Wickham, were kind and hospitable, and made sure Karen was well-fed before being shown to a tidy, sparsely decorated room in their cabin. By now she’d gotten used to being called Betty and was automatically responding to it, which put her more at ease. It was, she decided, a fine bit of acting on her part, but not as good as her acting with Clay Sanders. It had taken all her resolve not to bristle at his casual admission that spanking of women was commonplace in Heartfield; the implication that she could be subject to the same treatment had incensed her. But somehow she’d managed to put on a poker face and was nervously anxious about finding a quiet place where she could contact Jarvis or Clemmons. She was eager to tell them that the rumors were true - that women were abused at Heartfield. Busting this place up was now a personal mission for her.

  “Is it OK for me to take a walk?” Karen asked Lynette after dinner.

  “Sure,” her hostess replied. “Nothing is really off limits. Just don’t get lost and try to be back before dark if you can. We put the baby down early and if you come back in late and wake him I’ll be up all night.

  Karen looked over at the child, plump and red-haired like his mother. The couple also had a daughter.

  “Is this a good place to raise kids?” Karen tried to keep her voice casual.

  “The best.” Lynette pulled a loaf of bread out of the oven, the warm smell of yeast wafting through the kitchen as she did. “Our values here are pretty basic, and a lot different than in the larger world.”

  “I gathered that already,” said Karen. “Clay said this is a law-and-order kind of place…”

  “It is,” Lynette said. “But everyone is happy.”

  “Are all the women happy?”

  Lynette eyed Karen curiously. “Of course,” she said. “I mean, like everyone else we have our bad days, but overall I’d say the women here are probably a lot happier than in the outside world.”

  Karen paused for a moment, careful of how to word her next question. “Clay said the husbands here are considered the authority over their wives. Does that ever bother you? Do you ever wish you had a job or your own money, an equal say?”

  The baby had begun to fret now and Lynette rushed to pick him up. “No,” she said. “But I can understand why you might think we would be. Most people don’t understand how liberating it is to a woman who wants to live like this to actually be able to have the opportunity. Outside of Heartfield, I’d be labeled a doormat for my choice to submit to my husband. I’d be labeled a loser for choosing to live as a farmer, for eschewing a lot of material possessions. In order to be accepted, I’d have to submit to a lot of expectations I don’t want any part of. Here I choose to submit to the rules I agree with and to people I respect. Are there consequences here? Yes. And not just for me, but for anyone. It’s fair here, and it’s that fairness that makes me feel more respected as a human than I ever felt living outside of this place.”

  She sat down in the chair beside Karen’s, bouncing her son on her knee. “But I don’t expect you to understand that. You probably think I’m a doormat, but that’s OK with me. I can’t do anything about other people’s perceptions. I can only be true to myself and hope other people will respect my choices.”

  Karen felt a sudden twinge of guilt. Lynette seemed both articulate and intelligent, and the words she had spoken carried no hint of anger or defensiveness. And there was truth in what she said; Karen had been thinking that this woman was a doormat and a loser. Now she wasn’t entirely sure.

  She stood up, suddenly feeling tired and uncertain. “I don’t think I’ll go for that walk after all,” she said.

  But Karen did wait until she was sure everyone was asleep before calling Clemmons, leaving him just one short message: “I’m here, I’m OK and I’ll check in tomorrow with information.” But she wasn’t quite sure what that information would be. Karen was still repulsed by the idea of wife spanking, but Lynette’s serenity regarding her chosen lifestyle had left Karen with something of an unsettled feeling. She seemed to have no problem with the way things were, and her husband had seemed very respectful of her.

  But Karen had to wonder whether it was all just an act put on for her benefit. And Lynette and the woman she’d seen hugging her husband after the spanking were just two of a large number of residents. Surely if she talked to other women, she’d find someone with a different opinion of the lifestyle, perhaps one brave enough to admit that things weren’t quite so rosy.

  Chapter Five

  “Dinner was delicious.” Adam Blye pushed the plate away and patted his stomach contentedly.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Sarah picked up the plate and utensils and placed them in the sink. She looked around the cabin as she did. It had been Adam’s before she’d moved to Heartfield. He’d built it with his own two hands, but she’d added the homey touches after moving in – the sunny yellow curtains, the quilt that hung on the wall, the watercolor of a field of daisies. It made her sad to think of leaving her home, of leaving her husband.

  “Adam?” She turned to look at him. “Can we talk?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  She sat down in the chair opposite him, shifting gingerly in her seat. Her bottom was still sore from the spanking, which she had to admit she’d richly earned. All day she’d been thinking about her confrontation with Ann Marie, and how it had not left her feeling any better. The spanking, the submission, had left her feeling a little more refocused. But it wasn’t enough.

  “I am sorry for how I’ve been behaving,” she said. “And the things I said today when we sat down with Jake and Ann Marie – they weren’t lies, Adam. I don’t like her. And I don’t think it’s something you can force on me. But there are things you can do to help me.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I feel like I get so out of control. I don’t want to be like this. I need … I need …” Her voice trailed off and she looked down at her hands, her face reddening into a deep blush.

  Adam held his breath. He thought he knew where Sarah’s comments were going, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. He reached over and took her hands in his. “Don’t be afraid, sweetheart. Just tell me.”

  “I want you to … to do what you wanted to do when we first got married. The thing the other men here do with their other wives…”

  Adam nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. When he had married Sarah, he’d explained to her that she would be spanked for disobeying him. But he’d told her that there were other, more severe ways to remind her of his control. On their wedding night, he had bent his lovely bride over their bed and smacked her bottom until it stung – a taste, he said – of what she could expect if she displeased him. Then he had greased his finger and circled the tip around the rim of her anus. Sarah had squirmed and gasped as he’d worked the digit in to the first knuckle, and then had begun to cry.

  “No!” she’d protested, but he’d continued until she violently squirmed away and turned to face him. “I said, NO!”

  He’d backed off, holding his hands up. Acceptance of punishment had to be voluntary, and while he knew other wives in the community were sometimes left softened by displaying the ultimate submission of offering their bottoms to their Heartfield husbands, Sarah would not be one of them. His disappointment was keen, but where wives were
expected to accept spanking as a condition of living in the community, it had been decided that this sort of submission was something a wife would have to ask for and want. That Sarah was offering it now was both encouraging and problematic. On one hand, Adam sensed that this was a sign that she wanted to work things out. On the other hand, he sensed that if this did not work, nothing would.

  Adam stood, taking his wife by the hand. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded wordlessly, and he took her by the hand and led her to their bedroom. Love swelled in his heart as Sarah lay herself across the bed and lifted her homespun skirt above her full hips. Adam’s breath caught in his throat as he took in her shapely backside framed by plain cotton panties, the fabric tight against her firm cheeks.

  He still had the box tucked in the top drawer of the dresser near the back. He drew it out now and opened it. There were five hard rubber plugs, graduated in size. He selected the smallest one for his wife’s virgin ass. She looked back at him, whimpering as he put the box aside and squirted a glob of lube on the tip.

  “You’re sure,” he asked her again. “Because this isn’t a game, Sarah. Once you consent, I’m going to consider going back on this agreement no different than going back on a spanking. This is now part of your training, little girl. Once I put this plug in your ass, it’s to stay. You’ll feel it all day long until I take it out. And each time you do, you’ll remember there’s not a part of you that I don’t control. Understand?”

  She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  He put a hand on the small of her back and then began lowering the panties. As they came down, his cock rose up, straining painfully against the front of his trousers. Adam wanted nothing more than to bury himself in his wife’s slit. He could see a sheen of wetness between her swelling pussy lips, and knew that even though she was scared, she was also excited by what was about to happen.