A/N: Another story featuring submissive Sarah and her Mistress, Rebecca, from my earlier stories "The 14th Anniversary", "My beautiful Sub" and "Choosing Corner Time". It takes place a few weeks after Sarah received her permanent collar from her Mistress, about seven months after their first meeting.
Note on the timeline. "The 14th anniversary" and "My beautiful sub" take place on Valentine's Day 2011, the first story recalls things that happened on Valentine's Day 1997 and a few days, later. "Choosing Corner time" depicts the dynamic of Sarah's and Rebecca's relationship a couple of years after their beginning. "Sarah Acts Out" is also set in the first year of their time together, about two months after Sarah received her permanent Platinum collar from Rebecca. Sooner or later there will also be a longer story dealing with Sarah's training, but that still has to be finished, at the moment I'm considering posting another Victoria and Jacqueline story first.
Summary: Sarah misbehaves in public and is called to order and disciplined by her stern and loving Mistress.
~*~
"No, I will no longer let you rule my life. I've had enough," Sarah said heatedly and shot up from her comfortable chair, pushing it back and almost toppling it over in the process. Its legs scraped screeching over the white-veined, black marble floor of the understatedly elegant restaurant.
"Mark's Steakhouse" had opened up about three months ago and had taken the culinary world of the city by storm. Sarah and Rebecca were on the fast trek to become regulars, they dined there about once every two weeks. The mixture of traditional recipes, high-quality ingredients and excellent service appealed to many people, among them a lot of Sarah's business contacts.
This evening entering the room and taking their seats at the secluded corner table, Sarah had not seen even a single familiar face among the other guests. Maybe that was why she not only had uncharacteristically raised her voice but also did not care about the fact that their table had suddenly become the center of everyone's attention. It did not stop her ranting.
"You, Doctor Eriksson can take that veggie crap you like so much and eat it yourself. I'll have a steak, medium rare, with a side dish of steamed potato filled with sour cream and a glass of your best Merlot." Sarah addressed the waiter and her Mistress.
"Sarah, you are out of line. Stop acting like a spoiled brat. You know better than that, and it's extremely unbecoming," Rebecca's voice was soft and calm, but despite her own anger Sarah felt the disappointment and fury boiling under the surface. She was, however, too angry to act on her better judgment, so, she continued to complain,
"I am tired of being at the receiving end of the obsessive compulsive needs of a perverted control freak."
"Sarah, you know the rules, you know there is only one way to end this, use your safeword, then we'll calm down and talk about the punishment you so amply deserve."
"Rebecca, you can stick those plans where the sun does not shine. I'm going home and I don't want company later that night."
That said, Sarah stormed out of the restaurant in what seemed like righteous anger, leaving her bag hanging over the backrest of the chair, and before Rebecca even had a chance to answer.
Rebecca removed the Gucci bag from the chair and walked over to the Maitre D', talked to him and left the restaurant a couple of minutes after Sarah. It took another three to five minutes, in other words, half an eternity for the valet girl to fetch her car. Rebecca used the waiting time to look around for her wayward submissive, but she saw no sign of Sarah. She checked every adjoining street for movement. They all seemed to be deserted.
The most direct way back to the Penthouse apartment crossed a small warehouse district that lately had come to sad notoriety for numerous counts of assault and rape on single women after business hours. Rebecca's anger at Sarah's atrocious behavior was in no way diminished by her mounting worry.
She systematically checked the streets closest to the restaurant and then drove off to the Penthouse apartment she shared with Sarah since shortly after their vacation at her grandfather's hunting hut, on the way she kept her eyes on the street, without seeing anyone even remotely resembling her lover. The Penthouse was empty when she arrived and her worry grew to outright fear.
To make sure she checked Sarah's office, but as half expected found it dark and empty as well.
Rebecca forced herself to think rationally to keep her anxiety under control. As far as she knew Sarah had no keycard to use the elevator, no credit cards, no money, not even an ID card. That thought worried her more than she was ready to admit even to herself. After Sarah's outburst going home to the Penthouse would have been the logical choice, it was what she had said she would do, but she had been so angry when she had fled the restaurant that Rebecca was not certain that she really would think or act rationally.
Rebecca took a Ziploc bag from the refrigerator and then took the stairs back down to the parking deck. It also worried Rebecca that there was no way to tell where Sarah could have gone. For a moment she considered that her lover could have sought the comforting arms of one of her friends from the "Earhart".
Sarah had made it abundantly clear to everyone at the exclusive private club that she was off the market for now and the foreseeable future and though her behavior towards her Mistress was telling enough for those with eyes to see, Rebecca doubted that the majority of the regulars at the "Earhart" had any clue.
Rebecca left the building and weighed the possibility that Sarah could have gone or rather fled to Ava and Mary; she quickly discarded that idea as well. It was Friday night and on Fridays they both could be found at Ava's club, "the Rachilde", named after a French novelist who lived in the late 19th early 20th Century and among other works wrote a novel titled "La Marquise de Sade."
Rebecca doubted that Sarah would go there alone, especially in the mood she had been in. The regulars and service personnel there by now all knew her as Rebecca's submissive and respected her as such, it made her off limits, even if she was only wearing normal clothes like this night. Still, only the week before Sarah had confessed to her Mistress that she only felt completely safe at the fetish club when in the company of either, Ava, Mary or her Mistress. Sarah's confidence was slowly growing, but she still was a long way from being ready for public play.
Shortly after their return from the hunting cabin Rebecca had inherited from her grandfather, Sarah had hired Mary as her personal assistant/right hand. The two submissives made a formidable team, and no outsider would have taken them for anything but very dominant and commanding women, never suspecting that they both regularly found themselves bent over their Mistresses' lap for a sound spanking or more, and that they even enjoyed it, most of the time.
Sarah's former assistant who had always insisted on being called her private secretary and had worked for the publishing house for more than thirty years had retired to spend more time with her family in Miami.
Rebecca took the turn that brought her right in front of her old apartment building. She found a parking space just around the corner. Though she no longer lived there. She still owned it and would continue to do so. They often used it for longer training sessions, at least as long as the playroom at the Penthouse was not finished to her specifications.
When Rebecca looked up she saw that her windows were dark, with the curtains drawn in the living room, just as they had left it the last time after their playing session. Now convinced that she would not find her missing lover upstairs Rebecca walked the three flights to her third floor apartment, instead of taking the elevator. To her surprise she found scratch marks next to the lock.
There were a number of logical explanations for the scratch marks. Someone could have tried to break in since the last time they had played here. Rebecca remembered that Sarah always carried a Swiss pocket knife with her when her clothing allowed for pockets. The scratch marks could well be from the shorter and sharper of the two blades. For a moment Rebecca considered going back down to the ground floor to check her mail box to see if the spare key was still in its hiding place.
She knew that using the mailbox as hiding place was almost as bad an idea as putting it under the door mat or on top the door frame. A short glance at her wrist watch told her that almost two hours had passed since Sarah had stormed out of the restaurant.
~*~
Not knowing what to expect, Rebecca turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open which opened directly on the living room. The only illumination came from seven thick candles at the other side of the room. The dark curtains closed over the windows kept the light from the street lamps out.
Sarah was naked and kneeling in the middle of the rough circle formed by the candles. Her knees were spread wide, the forehead rested on the hardwood floor. Her hands and arms were stretched forwards with her hands crossed at the wrists. Rebecca entered and closed the door softly behind her. Sarah's clothes were lying on the couch in a neat pile.
She had put leather cuffs on her wrists and a leather collar similar to the training collar she had worn at the hunting cabin and during the following weeks and months over her permanent platinum collar her Mistress had given her less than two months ago.
Rebecca was torn between berating her wayward submissive for her abysmal behavior and making her pay for running away and pulling her into her arms and cuddling her in relief at finding her safe and sound. Seemingly unnoticed Rebecca stepped closer and noticed that Sarah's breathing was ragged and that she was crying. Sarah's distress quenched some of her anger, but she still wanted to get to the bottom of Sarah's outburst, the root of her uncharacteristic behavior.
"Sarah look at me," Sarah raised her head from the floor and turned her face to the side, just enough to see Rebecca's shoes just outside the ring of candles.
"Care to tell me what got into you at the restaurant? What demon took hold of your better judgment? And how did you get here?" Rebecca's voice had the warmth of absolute zero.
Sarah shot up from her position on the floor and launched herself towards her Mistress. The sadist in Rebecca was tempted to take a step back and let her fall, but when she saw that Sarah's left leg didn't support her weight, the conscientious Mistress in her, however, didn't want her woman to get hurt by accident. So, she bent down enough to allow Sarah to hook her arms over her neck.
Sarah's eyes were red and swollen, as well as her cheeks, evidence that she had been crying for more than a few minutes. Without thinking about it Rebecca followed her instincts and closed her arms around Sarah's body to pull her closer. Sarah's eyes widened and a fresh torrent of tears cascaded from her eyes down her cheeks to finally fall on Rebecca's dark grey silk sweater.
"I need answers, Sarah, and I need them now." Sarah hiccupped and sobbed, but also tried to speak, but her words were drowned out by the other sounds.
