Heartfield Ranch (Communities of Discipline Book 2) by Fiona Wilde Page A

grip and she thrashed about helplessly as he took his seat again.
    Her legs pin-wheeled as she tried to kick him, but he immobilized them by throwing his own long leg over hers as he positioned her face down over his lap. Karen struggled to free herself but could not find a way. This was one hold that had not been covered in the police academy.
    She was torn between panic and fury as Clay rested a hand on her bottom. “Last chance,” he said.
    “Fuck you!” she shot back. If this man thought she was anything like submissive little women he was used to, he had another think coming. So let him hit me , she thought . Just let him. I won’t shed a tear. And when it’s done I’ll have his ass thrown in jail for assault .
    But when his large hand came down – hard- on the seat of her jeans she cried out in spite of herself.
    “I was going to be easy on you,” he said, seeing as how this is your first time. “But you should know you’ve ruined that privilege by fighting and cursing.”
    “Go to hell!” she shot back, unable to keep the fear out of her voice even as she said it.
    His response was to start spanking her with rapid force. And Karen, who’d never been spanked – at least not like this - realized quickly that her plans to remain stoic were short-sighed. The blows hurt. They hurt terribly. And no matter how hard she tried to shift away she could not escape that merciless hand that rose and fell, rose and fell over and over again against the seat of her jeans. The fabric offered little protection against the building sting that started in the middle of her bottom and grew more intense as Clay shifted her forwards to concentrate the smacks on the lower buttocks just above her thighs. Karen was crying now, further angered and humiliated at losing control so easily.
    “Stop!” she cried. “Stop! Oh God please stop!”
    “Have you learned your lesson?” Clay asked between smacks that continued.
    “Let me go!” she screamed.
    “What were you doing out there?” He continued to spank, moving the blows up now again to the middle of her bottom.
    “Nothing! I was just making a phone call!”
    “To who?” He continued to spank.
    “Stop!” She sobbed the word. “Please stop. It hurts! It hurts so much!”
    “There’s only one way to get me to stop,” Clay said, letting the blows land randomly now. Karen bucked as he continued to strike her bottom, which felt like it had been assailed by a hundred beestings. “Tell me what you’re really doing here.”
    Karen could take it no longer. She felt she would die if she didn’t get relief, and there was one way, she knew, to make this man cease.
    “All right” She cried. “All right! I’m a cop, OK? I’m a cop!”

Chapter Eight
     
    “You’re a what?” Clay all but pushed Karen off his lap and she stood, angrily wiping her teary face as she fixed him with a withering look.
    “You heard me,” she sputtered, now unconsciously rubbing her sore, throbbing bottom. “I’m a cop. And you’re under arrest for assault. You have the right…”
    Clay began to laugh. “You may have to call for back-up, young lady. Because it’s going to be hard to arrest me one-handed while you rub your backside with the other.”
    Karen’s face grew red with anger. “Don’t you dare mock me,” she said. “And this is no laughing matter. You assaulted me…”
    “I spanked you, Betty,” he said. “If Betty is your real name. I doubt that it is, though.”
    “It’s Karen Patterson . Officer Karen Patterson,” she said. “And it appears that the rumors about this place were correct. A systematic abuse of women, a weapons cache…”
    “Weapons cache?” Clay’s look had changed to one of surprise.
    “Don’t play stupid with me,” she said, pointing at the door behind her. “Ann Marie let it slip that something dangerous is in the room behind you.”
    “In here?” Clay stood up and turned, fishing in his pockets. After a moment he pulled out a key and