Outlander (Borealis) (6 page)

Clearly, not accepting the Borealian religion as my own
could be the end of me. And with a culture obsessed with erotic roles and
ritual, I had to pull off the whole submissive act. Too much attention was on
me already. It was as if all of Borealis was holding its breath, waiting for me
to adapt to my life path or else. At the very least, I had to pretend to
conform and keep my mouth and my temper at bay. Neither was going to be easy.

I felt more naked than ever with my training outfit on.
After slipping it on and adjusting the straps, it was obvious its function was
for erotic display and nothing else. The thin leather straps crisscrossed my
torso leaving wide gaps that outlined and exposed my sexual charms. Nothing of
any significance was covered.

My cuffed wrists were chained and locked together behind my
back while I waited for further instruction.

The training room was a dungeon or at least what I imagined
a dungeon would look like in ancient Rome. It was a cell like the one I shared
with Marcus, but twice the size and dimly lit. Nine evenly spaced torches—three
on each wall—were the only sources of light since the room had no windows. Iron
hooks and wooden shelves lined the walls which held canes, whips, blindfolds
and all manner of restraints from chains to silk scarves. Wooden and metal
apparatuses with straps crafted from iron or leather, dotted the room like
workout stations at a gym. They were in the shapes of planks, crosses, wheels
and pommel horses.

My first reaction was that I had stumbled onto a movie set
because it was too far-fetched to be genuine, but the more I studied the room,
the more intimidating it became. The wear on the leather, the scratches on the
wood and the slight rust on the iron were all proof that was a working
dungeon. 

Marcus was all-business. With a keen eye he scrutinized my
stance, pushing my shoulders back and tipping my chin up. “Your ankles should
be touching. Good. Now look at the floor.”

I tilted my head down.

“No, no. Keep your chin up, but your eyes down. There, like
that.” He stood a few feet away and studied my posture from all angles, using
his fingertips to make slight adjustments. “This is how you should stand when
God first enters the room. If I ever say, ‘stand at attention,’ this is the
pose I am referring to.”

This was nerve-wracking. I had to change the subject.
“Dominus, does God have another name besides God?”

“Boreas.”

“So Borealis is named after him.”

Ignoring my statement, Marcus continued in teaching mode.
“Once God steps into the ritual chamber, everyone will bow, but you must go to
worship pose.”

I frowned at him.

Marcus positioned himself in front of me. “I’ll be Boreas.
Now kneel down with your ass resting on your heels. Your big toes should be
touching, but your knees must be open as wide as possible.”

He circled me after I followed his instruction. Marcus was
staid, professional and maybe a bit concerned. “Nice. Now lean forward,” he
said pushing my torso down over my thighs by gently pressing his foot on my
back. “Rest your forehead on the floor. Perfect.”

It felt good to be stretched out like that. I wished I could
stay in that position for a while, but Marcus soon tapped his foot against my
thigh. “Get back up and stand at attention.”

When I tried to stand up, I toppled over.

Gently, he righted me by grabbing my elbow with one hand and
supporting my hip with the other.  “Getting up with your hands secured
behind your back is challenging. This is why we practice.”

By the third try, I wobbled on my ankles, but was able to
stand without a stumble.

He taught me several poses and their variations. Then he
drilled me on how I should not speak unless spoken to and never, ever forget to
address Boreas as God, Creator or Master. Only demigods called him Boreas,
though Dominants could refer to him that way when he wasn’t in the room.

“Demigods, Dominus? You said Galen was one.”

“Yes, the royal court is comprised of nine demigods, five
male and four female.”

I wondered—with some irritation—why the men outnumbered the
women. “Dominus, tell me about them.”

“You will meet another male demigod at our next training.”

The muscles in my neck bunched up. “What is he like,
Dominus? What’s his name?”

“Remember what I said earlier? The only time you speak
during training or ritual is when spoken to. If you have a question regarding
training you may ask permission to speak, but unless we are taking a break from
training, we will not discuss other subjects. Understood?”

I sighed. “Yes, Dominus.”

“It’s time to train on ritual worship.”

The idea was terrifying, but it was clear that refusal to
participate was not an option.

He nodded to a table shaped like a large X. There was a
place to rest my head, but that was the only thing that looked comfortable
about it. Holding my hand, Marcus helped me climb on the barbaric apparatus.

First, Marcus secured my wrists with leather straps and then
came my ankles.

After he finished trussing me to the table, I looked up at
him with dread in my eyes. I was essentially naked and tied spread eagle in a
dungeon. It was intimidating enough to be in this position with Marcus who had
my best interests at heart, but soon this would be Boreas. Their Master frightened
me, made me feel powerless and I would be expected to submit my entire being to
him.

“You’re so beautiful.” Marcus’s tone was sweet, instantly
reminding me that no matter how harsh his words or how many times he threatened
to discipline me, Marcus cared about me above anything else.

“Dominus, I’m afraid.” Tears threatened to spill from my
eyes. It was one thing to put my trust in Marcus, but quite another to prepare
for what God had in store.

“That’s to be expected. Just know that I will be by your side
through all of it.”

I nodded and tried to bravely swallow back my tears, but one
ran down my cheek anyway. Marcus let it fall and that was not like him. A grim
thought wormed into my brain. What if my gentle Dom turned cold as they
rehearsed this unholy sacrament? Could Marcus lose control and hurt me?

He pinched my chin and turned my face toward him. “Because
this is your first training, it will be about going through the motions, the
logistics of the Goddess ritual.”

He snaked around the X and positioned himself between my
legs and exposed pussy. “God will stand here through most of the ritual.”

Of course he will.

There was a small drawer at the base of the cross where he
removed what looked like an oversized snow globe. “He will have his Light with
him contained in a sphere like this one and he will roll it over your body.”

My muscles tightened.

“This is just glass, little sub,” he said, hefting the
sphere.

Consciously, I tried to loosen my limbs and shake off my anxiety.

“This is important. He will show you his Light. It will be
bright like a star and will pulse and emit a crackling noise similar to
thunder. No matter how much you prepare for the first moment you see his Light,
it will frighten you and that will excite him. And when he is excited, he is at
his most powerful. God’s energy is overwhelming without his Light, but with it,
it will take your breath away. It is crucial that you keep your focus on me and
not on the Light.”

My face was a mask of shock, but Marcus continued his
explanation with calm proficiency.

“In this aroused state, he will ask you this question: ‘What
is this body for?’ You should keep your eyes downcast as you reply, ‘My body
was created for your pleasure, Master. Do with it what you will.’”

A knot tightened around my belly as he made me repeat the
words.

“Very good.”

“What happens next, Dominus?”

He let a moment pass. “The torture begins.”

I pinched my eyes closed as I tried imagining what the
torture would be like and how I could tolerate it. “How long does it last,
Dominus?”

“At first, not long. You will not be able to bear much.
After a while, when you have fully bonded with me, it will last for quite some
time.”

Even though I tried not to grimace, my face twisted. “So he
will torture me for a long time, Dominus?”

He slid his thumb down my cheek, a tender gesture that made
me feel like everything would be fine, though all evidence pointed to the
contrary.

“When you’ve reached that point,” he said, “Our love will
eradicate all the pain, leaving only pleasure and spiritual ecstasy.”

Earlier Marcus had said, “I exist only to love you.” Was it
possible that he already loved me? I knew I had developed strong feelings for
him, but love… It was too soon. And even if we were in love, how could I
believe that it held the power to conquer pain? Make it bearable, perhaps, but
not eradicate it.

In the end I was left with uncertainty about all of it, but
there was hope—fragile and uncertain—offered to me by a man I barely knew. For
now it would have to be enough.

During a break from training, we sat shoulder to shoulder on
a bench that was pushed against a wall. We each held a pewter chalice filled
with cool water. I took a long swallow and licked my lips. “Dominus, may I ask
you more questions about God and the Goddess?”

“Yes,” he said, obviously approving of the fact that I asked
for permission. “And you may speak freely.”

I cocked my head, unsure of what he meant.

“You can drop the ‘Dominus’ for now.”

I nodded. “On Earth,” I began, but he interrupted me with a
scowl.

“Don’t—”

“Please listen.”

Though guarded and apprehensive with the mention of Earth,
Marcus took a deep breath and nodded for me to continue.

“On Earth we have a natural occurring effect called the
Aurora Borealis. They are brightly colored lights in the sky and can be seen in
only a few places, but they are known for their haunting beauty.”

Marcus watched me carefully as he spoke. “That would be our
sky. And Aurora is the name of the Goddess.”

I took another drink of water. “Aurora is the name of
a
goddess in our ancient mythology. Boreas is the god of the north winds.” It
boggled my mind that I could I remember that, but not my own name.

Marcus leaned back until his head touched the wall behind
him. “So in your world, there are many gods?”

“Yes, many different gods.”

“Have you met any of them?”

Shaking my head, I grinned.

“Why is that funny?”

“All our gods are dead or in another dimension.” I was going
to say heaven, but I didn’t know if he would even understand the word.

“Then how do you know they’re real?”

I chuckled softly. “That’s a great question.”

With a faraway expression, Marcus focused on a torch on the
opposite wall.

“What are you thinking?”

“That you have an incredible imagination.”

“That’s right,” I groaned. “It’s all in my head. Boreas
doesn’t believe Earth exists and has no interest or way to get me there.” I
thought about that for a moment. “Or does he?”

“God tells us the other planets exist for reasons we cannot
comprehend. Why would we travel there if they cannot sustain life?”

“And you believe him?”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation.

“But, as you have said, he’s cruel and vengeful.”

“Yes, he can be, but God does not lie.”

I dropped my face in my hands, doubting my sanity. How could
this be happening to me? Maybe this was all just a long, fucked up dream.

“And,” he started tentatively, “Boreas can hear and see
everything we do and say.”

My heart thumped an extra beat. “What? Everything?” The
question was spoken in a whisper as if that would prevent Boreas from hearing
it.

“Everything.”

I thought back on all the things I and Marcus had said about
God. It had crossed my mind, the whole omniscient thing, but Marcus had spoken
so freely and negatively about his Lord and Master that I assumed we weren’t
being heard. My pulse quickened when I considered the consequences. “Are we in
trouble?”

He placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “He knows you’re not
well. I’m sure he will be merciful.” He looked away, uncomfortable. “Though it
is not his nature.”

I hoped for our sakes that Marcus was right. Kind words
about God had not been dripping from our mouths, far from it. “But you called
him a…I’ve said…you’ve said…”

A finger on my lips hushed me. “Don’t worry. God knows he
can be a bastard. He will say it himself and he has surely heard most of
Borealis verbalize it at one moment or another. If speaking the truth about his
nature was punishable by death, then he would be a very lonely God.”

“But you were afraid he might kill me that first day in the
healing room.”

“That was different. He had not properly imprinted with
you.”

“Which means?”

“God creates every being on Borealis. Creation is taxing on
God, as you can imagine. Although he does not create often, sometimes he loses
control.”

I watched him as he paced the room.

“God’s creativity and power stem from his orgasm. Courtesans
will help him get to that state of arousal. And sometimes he drinks too much
wine, which is what I think happened when he created you.”

My mouth dropped open. “Wait. Are you saying he was drunk
when he created me?”

Embarrassed, Marcus cleared his throat. “That is the
theory.”

When he had turned away from me, I rolled my eyes. “And?”

“And when he has all his faculties, he imprints with each
being he creates, sealing their bond. He tells them what their erotic role is,
starts them on their life path. It is a deeply spiritual experience that is so
intense, none of us remember it. It is said we would go mad if we did. All we
know is that the imprinting gives each of his progeny an undeniable belief in
his divinity. They know he is their Creator, their Master, their God. It is
never questioned. But—”

“He got drunk and didn’t imprint with me.”

“Something like that,” he said, huffing out air. “We think
you ran away before he could finish and he was not in a state of mind to go
after you.”

I didn’t believe a word of it, but was fascinated and
somewhat entertained by the story Boreas had cooked up to explain my memory
loss. “Nevertheless, he still hasn’t imprinted with me.”