Outlander (Borealis) (4 page)

“Holy shit,” I said breathlessly.

He let out a soft laugh filled with warmth and lust. “Come
on, it’s not that bad. Relax.”

I tried to steady my breath and within moments succeeded in
lessening my mental state from panicked to anxious.

“Open your mouth.” His voice was husky, sensuous.

I licked my lips and obeyed. When his mouth met mine, my
body responded by surging warm fluid between my thighs. As his tongue slowly
explored my mouth, I felt drugged with sensuality. I kissed him back and he moaned
a deep moan that scared me a little. I was pretty sure I had just woken up
something very dangerous inside him.

He released my lips, only to nudge them open with what
smelled like a fresh date. He laid the sweet fruit on my tongue and said,
“Eat.”

Dutifully, I took in the date and chewed it. It tasted
sweeter than I expected, like butterscotch.  

After I swallowed, his lips were on mine again. With great
patience, he would alternately kiss me and feed me until I consumed five dates,
each touch sending me into a deeper erotic state.

The restraints, the lack of sight and the position he put me
in, had me beyond wet. When was he going to touch me
there
?

He brushed his lips against my cheek and whispered in my
ear. “You are making me crazy.”

The feeling was mutual. I was ready for him to make a move.
 

When he removed the blindfold and the ties, I was
disappointed. I reflexively snapped my knees shut and crossed my arms over my
breasts.

“It’s too late,” he said with a devilish glint in his eye.
“I’ve already seen them.”

I reddened again and threw the sheets over my body.

He peeled them slowly from my grip. “It’s time for your
bath.”

There was no bathtub in our cell. In fact, there was no
bathroom at all. “Where is the bath?”

“At the end of the hallway.”

I reached for my clothes, but he shook his head.

My mouth dropped open. “I’m not walking naked down the
hall!”

“All subs walk naked to the bath.”

I peered into those hypnotic blue eyes of his, hoping he
would cut me some slack. “But—” 

Marcus put his hands on my shoulders and kissed me lightly
on the bridge of my nose. “Your body is meant to be celebrated. It’s the
Borealian way.”

After gulping an uncomfortable amount of air, I took his
hand when he offered it.

His touch was soothing. It steadied me. A chaotic jumble of
questions popped in my head, but pushed them aside. Later, I told myself. 

I followed Marcus outside our cell and through the hallway
that ran between the Dom’s quarters. I took awkward, tentative steps because I
was so self-conscious of my nakedness.

Our cell was at the far end of the hall which meant we had
to walk by all of the other cells to get to the bath. I counted 36 empty cells
on our walk through the passageway. By the time we passed the last two, I heard
the white noise sound of rushing water.

The sound amplified as we approached a mammoth rock cave
that appeared to be 100 yards high and about as wide. Several small waterfalls
spilled water into a turquoise lagoon at the center of the cave. A beam of
light—shining from a wide chasm in the cave’s natural ceiling—sparkled with
gold winks as it hit the water. It was a spectacular scene right out of a fairy
tale.

We weren’t alone. Several other couples had made it to the
bath before us. Doms were oiling their unclothed submissives in deliberate,
luxurious strokes. Almost every foot of the perimeter wall was filled with an
erotic pairing. My knees turned to rubber when I saw that subs were chained by
the ankles and wrists to fasteners on the rock wall.

Marcus pointed to an empty area. “Here.”

As we made our way to our station, I talked to ease my
anxiety. “Can I ask you something?”

Fisting a handful of hair, he gently pulled my head back,
exposing my neck. “Dominus,” he said firmly.

I gaped up at him from my uncomfortable position. “What?”
His reaction shocked me, though he was being careful not to hurt me.

“I have been extremely lenient on you, maybe even
indulgent.” He grabbed my chin firmly. “From now on you will address me by my
title at all times, especially in public.”

This was a darker side to Marcus I hadn’t seen before. I
prayed I hadn’t angered my only ally. “Yes, Dominus,” I said, as if trying the
word out for size. I remembered Marcus telling me about the use of his title in
the healing room. I had forgotten all about it until now. “What does it mean?”

“The word means Master. The implication is that you are mine
and you will obey me at all times.”

“But you call God, Master. Isn’t that the same thing,
Dominus?”

“I am your Master, but he is the Master of all of us.”

That didn’t sit well with me and I scrunched my nose at the
thought. His God would never be my Master.

Marcus glared at me disapprovingly. “The next time you
forget to call me Dominus, I will discipline you.”

Bristling at the threat, my entire body tensed. My words
came out measured with testy undertones. “What exactly does discipline involve,
Dominus?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. He was either attempting to
discern the meaning of my question or the spirit in which I asked it. “I will
whip your ass until it feels like it’s on fire.”

“What?” My voice shot up a few decibels, attracting the
attention of those around us.

Before I could tag “Dominus” to my question, he raised his
hand above his head, then let it fall with a loud smack against my round
bottom.

I yelped, indignant and offended. “That hurt!” My loud
protest produced shocked faces from the subs and disapproving smirks from the
Doms.

Another whack came down on my behind. It was even harder
than the first. It seared my ass and turned it pink. My punishment for not
calling him Dominus or for affronting him, maybe both.

“That was a warning. Disrespect me a third time and I will
use a riding crop.” His expression was impenetrable and I wasn’t sure I liked
this side of him.

Though I couldn’t classify this as abuse, I wasn’t happy
about it. He warned me, I challenged him and I was punished for it.

A female sub at a nearby bathing station widened her eyes at
me, motioning almost imperceptibly to Marcus.

Ego and sensibility warred against each other. Finally, I
swallowed my pride and lowered my gaze. “I’m sorry, Dominus.”

After a long pause, his shoulders relaxed a fraction. He
leaned into me. “Don’t make me do that again.”

I had to remember that although I wasn’t playing by
Borealian rules, Marcus was, and on this planet, disobedience had consequences.
The smacks wouldn’t even leave a mark. In the end my only real wound was my
pride.

What ticked me off the most was not the heat on my ass, but
the throbbing between my legs. I took a deep breath. Focus, I told myself. I
had to get us back on good terms. I decided to divert him with some comic
relief.

“Can I ask you something else,
Dominus?
” I emphasized
his title as my eyes enlarged melodramatically. I was hoping he had a good
sense of humor.

He only partially succeeded in fighting off a smile. “Of
course.”

“Why all the bondage, the restraints, Dominus?”

“It is how we worship.” Seizing both of my wrists in one
hand, he backed me to the wall, pressing his body against mine. My nipples
tightened as they brushed past the hard planes of his chest. He raised my arms
above my head until I was stretched out and trapped, barely standing on my
tippy toes. There was no mistaking who was in charge.

After staring at me for what seemed like an eternity, he
pulled himself away and shackled me.

The metal cuffs were attached to a thick rusty chain which
was attached to solid rock. I tested them and found them holding me firmly in
place. I wasn’t going anywhere.

With his hands on my hips, he moved me a couple of feet away
from the rock wall.

Red clay pitchers, baskets filled with soaps and bottles of
oil lined the edge of the walls. Towels hung on hooks by each bathing station.
Marcus knelt in front of me and my vulva reacted by contracting.

Taking his time, he spread my legs shoulder-width apart and
secured my ankles with the shackles.

Oh, God.

I was a nervous wreck, but Marcus remained calm as he filled
a pitcher with water and set it down on the rocky floor. He poured oil from a
small bottle into his palm and rubbed his hands together.

The trembling returned. I kept rambling to keep from having
a heart attack. “Why do you worship like this, Dominus?”

Marcus stood up and eyed me sensuously. Without warning, he
kissed me. It was a long, languid kiss that sent all sorts of erotic messages
through my body.

After he had me completely under his spell, he let my mouth
go. I was disappointed and a bit irritated.

Using his large, oiled hands, he softly massaged my neck. “A
long time ago, God lived on a higher plane beyond the clouds with his Goddess.
They were perfectly equal and this caused discord because no two beings can
ever be equal.”

I used all the self-control I had to keep from making a
face.

“God set out to repair this flaw in their relationship. One
day when they were making love, God tied the Goddess to their bed and slid his
Light over her bare skin—” he said, running his finger along the length of my
arm.

I shivered. “His Light, Dominus?”

“Yes, it’s the same Light that heals, classifies and calms,
but God—and only God—can use it to cause pain. It’s also the same Light the
guards and Galen used on you. His Light can inhabit any object he pleases.”

I tried to absorb that, but his fingers were traveling under
my clavicle and it was hard to concentrate.

Marcus kept telling his story as he massaged my breasts with
practiced ease, thumbing my hard nipples. My breath caught and I sighed despite
myself. A gorgeous alien was rubbing me with oil and I was about to
explode—welcome to my new normal.

Unfazed, he continued as if we were chitchatting over tea.
“God slid his Light on her bare skin as he plunged himself inside her. The pain
was so exquisite, so beautiful that it created a bond between them unlike
anything either of them had ever felt.”

That jolted me from my trance. “Her pain was
exquisite
?”
This religion had just gone from fucked up to appalling.

Marcus shot me a warning glare.

“Dominus,” I added quickly.

He let it slide. “It excites God to give pain and it excites
the Goddess to receive it.”

I stiffened. “Are you excited by giving pain, Dominus?”

“No.” The way he spoke the word made it sound as if he was
offended by the accusation.

“But, Dominus, you smacked me twice.” I was trying not to
sound as mad as I was.

A sharp tone let me know he wasn’t pleased with my cheeky
attitude. “That was erotic intensity; discipline brought on by your
disobedience, may I add.”

“But you said you would never hurt me, Dominus.”

His eyes stayed on me. “Are you hurt? Did you feel genuine
pain?” Marcus squeezed my smarted cheek and I jumped.

No, what I felt was shock and brief—
damn him
—intensity.
And now my ass was deliciously warm and sensitive under his palm. “No, Dominus.
I was more surprised and humiliated.”

Nodding his approval, he rubbed circles around my belly
button. “I will never hurt you.” Our eyes locked as he slid a finger between my
mounds. “But God will.”

I froze as fresh horror mixed with my growing erotic
tension. Though baffled by God and his fascination with pain and punishment, I
had to remain calm. My Dom’s eyes stayed on mine while he took his time sliding
his fingers in and out of me. My eyes batted slowly as I melted under his
touch.

“You have a beautiful pussy,” he breathed.

I blinked at him. Marcus, the noble Dom who could have
modeled for Michelangelo’s
David
, just said “pussy.” I found that
strangely hilarious. “Pussy, Dominus?”

“Yes,” he said palming it. “Pussy.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from giggling. “Is that
the only name for it, Dominus?”

“Just pussy.” He pinched my clitoris and I shuddered.
“Clit.”

He grabbed both my butt cheeks with a loud smacking noise.
“Ass or butt.”

With his eyes boring into mine, he let the middle finger of
his right hand slip between my butt cheeks. “Asshole.”

If he named any other body parts, I was going to pass out.
But he had left out a couple of things. I shimmied and my breasts jiggled for
him. 

His pupils dilated as he groaned the word, “Breasts.”

Breasts? I almost burst out laughing. I was sure it would be
tits, knockers or at least boobs, but breasts? That made absolutely no sense.
“And you have a—”

“Cock.”

“Penis?”

“What?”

“Never mind, Dominus.”

I added “sexual terminology” to my long list of Borealian
eccentricities.

My Dom continued his erotic massage which was building
delicious pressure in my pelvis. If he quickened his strokes and stayed with
his rhythm much longer, I was going to come in front of him and all the other
bathers. But I wouldn’t be alone.

Startled by moans and whimpers of pleasure, I looked around.
Every Dom/me was fingering, licking, massaging or sucking their submissives. I
was particularly drawn to a scene of a female Domme with a female submissive.
The sub was groaning, her head thrown back and her lips parted. The Domme was
nibbling on her neck and fingering her with a wicked rhythm. The sub writhed
going up and down on her toes until her legs stiffened. When she came she shook
so hard that it jangled the chains that kept her fastened to the wall.

I was pretty sure I wasn’t a lesbian, but I had to admit,
that was fucking hot.