Outlander (Borealis) (7 page)

“No, but he is quite taken with you.” He grinned and tugged
at a lock of my hair. “I doubt there is anything you could do to make him send
you away.”

I was counting on that. “What else can he do? What powers
does he have?”

A squeeze of my shoulder and a nod to the X-shaped table
ended the conversation. “Another time. We need to get back to training.”

Panting, I raised a limp hand in surrender. “I can’t go on,
Dominus.” I had enough of Submissive 101. “I’m exhausted.”

Marcus was covered in a slick film of sweat. Training me was
a workout for him too. In fact, I wondered if he hadn’t exerted himself even
harder than I had.

Tired or not, I couldn’t help but stare at my Dom. The ochre
hue of the torch lights danced across his body, highlighting the roped biceps,
broad chest and defined abs. I was entranced with the V of his pelvic girdle
which hinted to the delights concealed behind his loin cloth.

He narrowed the space between us, causing a fracture in my
resolve. “If you are too tired, we can stop, little sub.”

We were both soaked with perspiration. I wiped my forehead
with the back of my hand. “Yes, let’s stop. I need a bath!”

His eyes widened with warning.

“Dominus!” I squealed.

A couple of seconds of tension passed and we both burst out
laughing.

He shook his head and placed a kiss on my lips. “I’m going
to pretend you were too exhausted to remember your place.”

I gave him a crooked smile.

“To the lagoon for a bath,” he said motioning to the cell
door.

“And then rest or nap?”

“Maybe.”

At the lagoon, we were joined by the other residents of the
Dom’s Quarters. Instead of being shackled like before, they were unrestrained,
wading in the water, using the soap to wash each other. Before training, oil
was used on the submissive and the Dom did not bathe. Marcus explained that
post-training or ritual, both Doms and subs bathed together.

The Doms were naked this time except for odd-looking metal
contraptions on their privates. I wasn’t close enough to tell what it was
exactly, but it appeared that the female Doms wore a metal bikini, a lock
dangling from the front. The male Doms had metal devices around their cocks.

Marcus set aside his arm gear and belt. When his loin cloth
came off, I gasped.

My Dom’s cock was caged inside a wicked steel contraption
that coiled around his manhood in a series of seven rings. The coils started
under his balls, then wound around the base of his penis and ended under the
head. “What is that, Dominus?”

“A chastity device. Doms are required to wear them at all
times.”

Horrified, but also fascinated, I leaned in for a closer
look. The skin of his cock strained against the shiny metallic coils. The
device forced his member to be at an erect position, sitting against his belly
at an angle. It had to be incredibly painful to wear. “Can’t you take it off,
Dominus?”

“No. This is how Doms worship, by denying ourselves the
release of an orgasm. God tortures both submissives and Dominants, just in
different ways.”

Another brutal idea, courtesy of Boreas. There was a tiny gold
lock looped to the bottom ring. “And God has the key, Dominus?”

“He does. We are never to be united in that way.” His
words—laced with melancholy—hung thick in the moist air. “Only God can enter
you.”

The idea of Boreas pushing himself inside me was unthinkable.
I formulated a plan and peered into Marcus’s eyes. “Where does he keep the key,
Dominus?”

Marcus slanted his head in warning. “In his bed chamber, but
don’t even consider stealing it. Violation of the chastity code is strictly
enforced for Dominants and would send us both to the Next Place.”

“Where is that, Dominus?”

“The Next place is in another dimension.”

“How do you get there, Dominus? By spaceship, teleportation,
what?” If I knew the types of transportation they had, I would be closer to
getting out of here.

“Decapitation.”

A cold spot grew in my chest. I winced, horrified with the
primal brutality. The punishment for making love was death.

“You will get used to it, little sub,” he said, kissing my
palm.

That didn’t seem remotely possible.

Silently, he waded into the water, his fingers curled around
a bar of soap. “Come on,” he said, extending his hand. “Bathe me.”

After a dramatic groan of relief I plopped my bare body on
the bed, my legs dangling over the side. “I need sleep.”

With a seductive cadence, Marcus said, “Not yet.”

I bit my lip as he ran a towel through his tousled hair.
Watching him do anything, even the most mundane things, was captivating. Each
movement was a tribute to his controlled power and grace.

“What forms of transportation does Borealis have, Dominus? I
remember being taken in a vehicle that hovered above ground.”

“Yes, those are roamers. They are only used to transport
guards—or lost residents of the palace—back home.”

“How far can they go?”

“All over the planet, I suppose.”

“How big is Borealis?”

“I don’t know.”

I was stunned. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t leave the palace much. I know God goes out in the
roamers sometimes, but I have never had the need or inclination.”

I couldn’t believe it. How could someone not want to explore
their own planet?

“What about space travel or teleportation, Dominus?” I
crossed my fingers hoping they had a way to get me out of here.

“No, we do not travel outside of Borealis because no
other planet in our universe can sustain life.”

That didn’t make any sense. “How do you know if you have no
space travel?”

“God has told us.”

“So God can travel through space?”

Marcus sighed. He had tired of my questions. “Maybe you can
ask him about it someday, little sub.”

I was deflated. Borealis had no spaceships, no
teleportation, no way to get me out of here. Then how the hell did I get here
in the first place? I decided that Boreas knew more than he was saying. As much
as I loathed being near him again, he was probably the only one that could get
me out of here.

Marcus tossed the towel aside and knelt in front of me,
pushing my knees apart as he licked his lips. “I told you if you worked hard
you would be rewarded.”

I snapped my knees closed and he gawked at me.

Though he had already kissed me, fingered me and almost made
me come, I didn’t think I was ready for oral sex. That was too intimate. “I
don’t know you that well, Dominus.”

Marcus snorted. “No, you don’t.” He massaged the back of my
neck and pressed his forehead against mine. “But this will bring us closer and
seal our bond.”

I drew my knees up under my chin. “No, thank you.”

Marcus let out an exasperated breath. He stroked my cheek
with his knuckles until I finally met his gaze. “My life’s purpose is to bring
you pleasure. It will make life a far more gratifying experience and once we
are bonded, I will give you a name.”

That caught my attention. “My first name?”

“And your last. Submissives take on the last names of their
Doms.”

Just like a married couple. I chewed on the meaning of that
for a while, saying nothing.  

I desperately wanted a name. Without one I felt like a
nonentity. Being called a “sub” was demeaning, unless Marcus said it, then it
was sensual and reassuring. But it was too soon for sex. “I can’t have sex with
you, Marcus, not yet.”

Frustrated, Marcus paced in front of me as if trying to
decide what to do. As hard as this was on me, he had also been thrown into
unfamiliar territory, dealing with a woman that wasn’t submissive and who
didn’t know squat about the Borealian lifestyle. He stopped and looked at me.
“Will you at least let me to kiss you?”

I recoiled. “Where?”

The way Marcus laughed—loud and abandoned—made me like him
even more. He was tender, but strong. Worldly, yet innocent.

Marcus sucked on his lower lip. “Your mouth.”

Eyeing him suspiciously, I consider it. Kissing would be
innocuous, right? Plus, I was wildly attracted to him. “That’s all?”

A solemn expression appeared on his face. “I will never
force you into anything.”

“Okay.” I tried hiding the elation of having his mouth on
mine. I jutted my chin out. “Just kissing.”

He licked his lips again, smiled and crawled on the bed next
to me until we were both lying on our sides facing each other. Cradling my
face, he began kissing me. Our make out session started sweetly at first, like
two fourteen-year-olds having their first kiss. Suddenly, the kissing turned
more passionate. His mouth claimed mine as he used his tongue to send electric
shivers into my nether regions.

“Mmm.” He tasted like sex and masculinity. I relished the
sensation of his tongue slow dancing with mine.

He hooked my leg over his hip and palmed my butt cheek. He
took a deep breath, speaking with a husky voice. “I can smell your excitement.”

His caged erection pressed against my belly.

I gave him a wicked grin. “I can
feel
yours.”  

“We’re only kissing,” he said, feigning innocence. His
tongue swirled gently inside my mouth and over my teeth.

My sex throbbed, ached, wanted to be touched.

When he pulled apart my top, baring my breasts, my breath
caught. My pink nipples stuck out like little pebbles, all but announcing my
eagerness.

Marcus climbed on top of me, between my legs. He continued
patting me with kisses, but now he was also clutching one breast as fingers
from his other hand slipped under my skirt and explored my clit.

This was way more than kissing, but he had already touched
me during the bath. I decided—rather my body decided—to surrender to him.

My back arched as all my muscles tensed in anticipation.
“Ahh!” My pussy felt like it was oozing melted butter. I couldn’t imagine
anything feeling better than this. Well, maybe one thing.

After he stopped, I glared at him. There was no way I wanted
to end this now.

I caught a glint in his eye. “Trust me, little sub. All I
want is to please you.”

He pulled off my clothes and started sucking on my nipples.
He gave one of them a playful bite and I flinched, though my excitement was
climbing steadily higher.

Caught in an erotic fever, I felt open and uninhibited. I
grabbed his butt cheeks and pulled him closer.

When he slipped his middle finger inside my wet slit, I
panted and stared at him wide-eyed.

Marcus fingered me relentlessly, holding my gaze until I
couldn’t bear it any longer.

I sighed his name. “Marcus.”

He withdrew his finger and sucked on it sensuously. He
savored my taste as if it were the finest wine.

It set me on fire, made me burn with need. Something primal
was building inside me. I was terrified and exhilarated to find out what it was
and what would become of me once I let it out.

Marcus hopped off our bed and started digging under the
mattress. I had no idea what he was doing until he pulled out a handful of
leather straps. Restraints.
It is how we worship.

I gasped and reached for his hand. He stopped to study my
face and when I remained silent, he continued his work.

He wound the leather restraints around my ankles and wrists
with the reverence of a monk spinning a prayer wheel. With each restraint he
tied, I tried to protest, but I couldn’t or I didn’t want to. At the end of it
all, I was secured to each corner of the bed, spread eagle.

It was like walking off a cliff. I had crossed a line and
there was no going back now. My true nature had been exposed and I could no
longer hide behind my good girl façade. Had I always been such a powerful,
erotic creature? Had I been created primarily for sex and pleasure? Without
knowing my history, it was hard to say, but at that moment I was Venus born out
of the sea, ready to take my rightful place as the symbol of erotic love.

When Marcus was done he lay on the bed, belly down, his face
between my legs. A bloom of passion soaked my pussy. Our eyes locked and I felt
the deep intimacy that existed between us. Still gazing into my eyes, he parted
my pussy lips and started licking the delicate folds. I moaned with abandon.

Pulling against my restraints, I pumped my pelvis, trying to
get closer to him. I longed to be entered with his tongue, his fingers, his
cock.

After groaning with desire, he grimaced abruptly. The
chastity device was doing its job.

I snapped out of my euphoric state. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to be inside you…desperately.” His voice was
strangled as he turned his face away.

“I want that too.” Though I was saying that to a virtual
stranger, it was the truth. Nothing else mattered except my union with him.

He caressed the round globes of my bottom affectionately. “I
am sorry I stopped. Sometimes I have to because the pain is so intense.”

My excitement tapered, replaced with compassion for my Dom’s
predicament and anger at my own erotic frustration. I shook my head. “Untie me,
Marcus. You can hold me. I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“No.” It was a decisive answer. With focused determination,
he pulled off his loin cloth, revealing his hard cock fighting against the
device.

As soon as he began running his tongue along the inside of
my thigh, I was lost in his spell again.
Just feel.
I could do that. I
hated that he was caged, but I was powerless to free him and I desperately
needed a release.

He splayed his palms over my belly while he pleasured my
pussy with his mouth, his tongue licking hard between my folds and skirting my
clit.

I squeezed my gluteal muscles in response to the pressure building
in my core.

Marcus changed his pace. It was harder, more persistent now.