Sarah Acts Out

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.

"The streets were empty when I followed you out of the restaurant and you were not at home as you said you would. I worried about you."

Sarah pressed herself against her Mistress' body as hard and close as she could, still crying but no longer as out of control as she had been. She looked up until her gaze made contact with Rebecca's piercing gaze.

"I'm sorry, Mistress, please punish me for disobedience, disrespect and losing my temper."

"I need more than that, Sarah. I need an explanation, a good explanation. What you said in the restaurant puts everything we are into question. You made it abundantly clear that you don't want to follow my orders any longer and you sounded very determined, and yet I find you in the supplication position still wearing the collar I have put on you and having added wrist and ankle cuffs".

"I overreacted, Mistress, I don't know why I said what I did. It was stupid and it was also not true."

"So, I'll have to add lying to the list of things for which you earned punishment."

"It was not a lie when I said it, but while I was waiting I became aware that I had more than exaggerated. Time grows very long with nothing to do but think about your own mistakes.

"When the taxi rounded the corner and I found the folded 50 dollar bill in my pocket I knew that I was making a big mistake by running off as I did and that I should go back in and apologize on my knees, let everyone know what you and I really are. My anger was gone the moment the door closed behind me, but I did not have the courage to do that.

"So, I told the driver to bring me here when he asked for my destination. I know that sooner or later you would look for me here. And for disappearing on you I should receive additional punishment.

"Please, punish me for embarrassing you in public. I knew my outburst must have come out of the blue. It did for me. I was looking forward to our dinner and I had no idea that I would lose my temper as I did right up until the moment I actually did.

"There was no unease, no growing discomfort. I love that I belong to you, I love wearing your collar. I love you, Rebecca Marie Eriksson."

"I love you as well, my Sarah. Your outburst might have been a surprise for you, but it should not have been for me. Ever since the collaring ceremony you have been the perfect submissive, elegant, flawless. You didn't give me the slightest reason to punish you. You were just perfect, too perfect.

"No one can be perfect all the time, not even if we want to. Life is not meant that way. Life is about making mistakes and learning from them. Your behavior this evening was a dozy of a mistake and had it happened in front of people who know what and who we are, I would have dragged you back and punished you as publicly as you questioned my abilities as your Mistress.

"That you were gone without a trace scared me more than I had expected and your words made me angry. I'm still angry, but I also don't want to go over board with your punishment considering how bad and guilty you already feel, I will take my time to calm down. You know where I keep the key to your collar, right?"

"Of course, Mistress, in the bathroom, the medicine cabinet," Sarah answered, still holding on to her taller Mistress. I never even considered taking the collar off. Over the last two months it has become a part of me I would not want to miss. Please, punish me, my beloved Mistress."

"Yes, I will punish you, but only when I'm good and ready. For now I want you spread out for my viewing pleasure. "

"Corner time, Mistress?"

"No, Sarah, more literally than that. The St. Andrews cross is calling for you."

"How long?"

As long as necessary for my anger to abate and for me to ignore how much I worried about you when you simply disappeared."

Rebecca led Sarah to the bedroom where a St. Andrew's cross had been bolted to the wall facing the bed. Sarah stretched her arms towards the rings embedded in the upper arms of the cross and said,

"I would love to be on display for you, Mistress."

"Even blindfolded and gagged?"

"Even deprived of my sight I will feel your eyes on me and I will do my best to love the gag if it pleases you, Mistress."

"It pleases me, Sarah."

"Rebecca clipped Sarah's wrist cuffs to the wooden beams, quickly followed by the ankle cuffs and the rings on the lower arms.

She then walked over to the big wardrobe in which they kept their toys, removed a black and violet silken blindfold and an inflatable penis gag and returned to the cross. Sarah obediently opened her mouth to accept the gag and closed her eyes. But Rebecca was not yet satisfied with the picture her submissive made. She returned to the wardrobe and retrieved several lengths of hemp rope. She wrapped the first around Sarah's right calf and another around her left in a criss-cross-pattern.

She repeated the crisscross-pattern on the upper arms and wound the last length around Sarah's waist, forcing out her beautiful creamy buttocks. The delectable picture made her smile she ran her hands all over Sarah's body, touching her everywhere but where she wanted it most. Staying away from her hard pebbled nipples and her first only moist and then dripping sex.

Rebecca could feel Sarah's rapid heartbeat under her fingertips, and her smile got wider. She could smell the familiar, intoxicating scent of Sarah's arousal, but stopped her ministrations because she was still angry and didn't want her beloved to enjoy herself too much. After all, this was supposed to be part of a punishment.

Rebecca sat down on the bed facing the cross and noted every detail of Sarah's body, the ropes binding her, her breathing, the moans and groans muffled by the gag, her scent, the way she tried to move. She scooted backwards and leaned against the headboard. She took the Ziploc bag she had brought from the fridge at the penthouse out of the plastic bag as well as a sharp knife.

She pulled a pair of latex gloves over her fingers to protect herself and started to peel the root, slowly revealing the yellow flesh under the wrinkled light brown skin. Sarah had taken to anal training and regular enemas like a duck to water at the hunting cabin, but the one time Rebecca had used bengay cream on Sarah she had had a rather violent reaction, she had cried and begged and pleaded, to no avail, but she also had not used her safeword. Tonight would be Sarah's first time with a ginger root hand.

And since this was a first Rebecca had no preconceived idea how Sarah would react. It could well be that she would be so turned on that she never would see ginger root play as a punishment; it could also be that in future she would rather take any other punishment than risk a repeat encounter with the ginger root.

Rebecca cut a concavity into the base of the ginger hand to create a retention ring and make sure that the hand would not accidentally slip completely inside. She went into the bathroom and held the hand under cold water and then took a bottle of hot sauce from the fridge and took a cane from the wardrobe. One that whistled at the slightest movement and was made of braided leather wrapped around a core of carbon fibers.

The cane was extremely light and left pronounced marks even when only applied with moderate force. It required much skill to wield it without seriously injuring the recipient or drawing blood, and after Sarah's earlier performance at the restaurant six-of-the-best would just not cut it.

Rebecca silently catalogued the other parts of the punishment she had in mind: the ginger hand for running off, the hot sauce for bad mouthing her, the cane for losing her temper. No orgasms or masturbation for the next few days at least, wearing a chastity belt during the day and additional maintenance spankings, every other day instead of once a week.

That would do, Rebecca decided and returned to the St, Andrew's cross where she resumed her ministrations to Sarah's body. She stroked her flanks and the sides of her breasts and admired the still rock hard nipples.

Rebecca pictured them as they looked adorned with alligator clamps connected by a short chain and weighed down with a set of bells that would be jingling softly with every breath. She made sure that she had Sarah's full attention before she began to remove the ropes at her arms legs and around her middle. As a last step she unclipped the cuff rings from the cross and made Sarah present herself for inspection.