Outlander (Borealis) (13 page)

Kaly lifted her chin slightly. Her words sounded like silk.
“Dominus Marcus Alexis, it is an honor to be in your presence.”

What the fuck? Was she flirting with
my
Dom? I had
the sudden urge to punch her in her perfect little face.

Marcus gave her a warning look. “Kaly, don’t make me have an
uncomfortable chat with Acacius again.”

Again? Oh, hell no.

Kaly feigned innocence, then grudgingly raised her chin
completely up. “Apologies. I was only trying to show reverence to a Dominus I
hold in great regard.”

Marcus shook his head while I scowled at Kaly. Grabbing my
hand, he stood up. “We should go.” He whispered in my ear, “I think you’ve done
enough socializing.”

I gave Kaly a malicious gaze before turning to my Dom. “Yes,
Dominus.”

Without warning, Marcus whirled me around, pressing my body
tight against him. He grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me seductively,
making a show of how much he wanted me.

Kaly’s face turned to stone. Aristides tried to stifle a
laugh. Though a little embarrassed, I was grateful for the public show of
affection. He was mine, damn it.

After we were a few feet away from the rest of the group,
Marcus pointed to a stately oak. He was wearing that sensual, dominant
expression of his. “Strip naked and press the front of your body against that
tree.”

Marcus had “played”—what Borealians called sexual
contact—with me in public before but that was when the other couples were also
engaged in erotic play. Plus, the lagoon had dim, subdued lighting. These
gardens were lit with a bright sun where everything was crystal clear and
saturated with color. There was nowhere to hide.

But my Dom wanted me naked and that was the end of that.

I peeled off my clothes and turned around. The stinging rays
of the sun hit my back and shoulders. As my clothes hit the floor, I noticed
the soil around the tree roots was made of red clay. I pressed my foot against
the clay and found it cool and pliable.

Facing the tree, my breasts grazed the rough bark. The trunk
was thick as a barrel with several heavy branches reaching out from it to the
sky.

“Legs shoulder length apart,” he said.

I complied and Marcus appeared behind me fisting three
pieces of rope.

“Where did you get those, Dominus?”

He gave me a half-smile, but didn’t answer my question.

Marcus knotted one rope around a thick limb that hovered
above me, and then tied the loose end around my wrists. The rope wasn’t quite
long enough, stretching my torso. I tried to find purchase, but I only managed
to stand on the balls of my feet, my toes disappearing into the clay. My back
was arched and my ass stuck out suggestively. The contrast of my delicate nipples
brushing against the rough tree bark, made my pussy ache.

He secured the second piece of rope around my right ankle
and wound it all the way behind the tree and then back around until it reached
my left ankle which he tied with the remaining rope. The restraints made it
impossible to close my legs.

The blindfold surprised me. I hadn’t seen him with it, then
again I had no idea where the ropes had come from either.

Uncomfortable, but excited, I waited for Marcus’s
instruction. The sun beat against my back, bottom and legs. A trickle of sweat
ran down the curve of my spine and disappeared between my butt cheeks. My pussy
was damp.

Startled, I jumped when his palms slapped against my hips.

“Everyone is looking at you,” he breathed into the nape of
my neck.

His words sent my heart racing. Public display was normal
for Borealians, but it shook me. I tried to convince myself this was normal.
When that didn’t work, I pretended this was performance art.

With his body pressed against my back, he seized a breast in
each palm and hefted it. My excitement grew to a pitch when he stretched my
nipples and rubbed them against the rough bark. My erotic nerve endings
tingled, sending a clear message of need to my clit.

He released my nipples and let his hands travel slowly past
my belly. When he reached my wetness, he dipped his fingers between my mounds.

I was pretty sure the rustle behind me meant Marcus was
taking his clothing off too. Dizzy and unable to see, I nearly lost my balance.

“Steady now,” he warned, grabbing my waist. He sucked on my
neck. His caged cock pressed against the small of my back.

Sliding his palms down the sides of my body, Marcus knelt
behind me. With his thumbs, he separated my butt cheeks. I almost screamed when
his tongue licked my puckered asshole. The sensation was amazing, sending
electric thrills through me. He licked me all the way down to my perineum,
stopping at the threshold of my pussy.

Something hard pressed into my slit. I had almost forgotten
about the remaining piece of rope. My pussy straddled it as Marcus slid it back
and forth. Burning everywhere I felt the pressure building, the overload of
stimulation started to undo me.

His tongue licked the small of my back as I was taken by
waves of contractions. As the orgasm ran through my stretched, tied body, I
wriggled like a fish on a hook.

Breathing heavily, I rested my chin on my chest. I was
glistening with beads of perspiration, ignited by my Dom’s attentions. What
would he do next? It was always an intriguing question that sent me into a
deeper state of longing.

I jumped as something cool, wet and thick was slapped on my
ass. It smelled coppery and earthy, like clay.

“This red clay signifies the Dom/sub relationship. The clay
is pliable under the Dom’s hands and with it he creates a sacred union which is
never to be broken,” Marcus said rubbing the clay from my butt down to my
thighs.  

He spread more clay on my breasts, my belly until I was
covered with it. As the clay mixed with sweat, it thinned and clung to me like
a second skin. “But the clay itself is fertile with infinite possibilities and
can change the form it takes by only wishing it so.”

The rope above me gave way and I crumpled into my Dom’s
arms. He cut the restraints to my ankles. When he slipped the blindfold off, I
waited for my eyes to adjust.

I saw the residents of the Dom’s quarters arched around me,
watching me with the attentiveness and respect of an opera audience. They
accepted me and approved of me. The realization warmed me like the bright
Borealian sun. I almost didn’t notice Kaly sulking in a corner.

Three days passed without incident. Life with Marcus settled
into a simple, yet exhilarating routine. Though we loathed the limitations of
his cage, we relished what we could do and we could do a lot.

Marcus had an inexhaustible imagination that never ceased to
amaze me. We enjoyed the intimacy of each other’s bodies and we loved each
other as honestly and purely as any two people could. I almost didn’t miss him
entering me. Almost.

I hadn’t seen Boreas or Galen since the Creation ritual. I
was grateful for the breather, but wondered why they had left us alone this
long. Instead of taking this break to reflect about what the Creation ritual
meant, I pushed it into a dark corner of my psyche, refusing to look too
closely at its significance.

One morning after breakfast an envelope arrived. Marcus took
it from the guard. The seal was bronze, not red like the seal on the letter
announcing our outdoors excursion.

He cracked the seal and plucked a small note from it. I
could see the gravity of the words written on his face. He stopped moving,
stopped breathing. He just stared at the paper, held onto it so tightly, I was
sure he would tear it apart. When he finally looked at me, I knew it was time.

Whether Earth was a figment of my imagination or not, didn’t
matter. Boreas didn’t have a right to torture me. This was wrong and I wanted
no part of it.

I knew it was no use arguing with Marcus or Boreas, but I
wasn’t going to pretend I was okay with it either.

When Marcus reached for my hand as we headed for the Holy
Palace, I refused to take it. Though I understood that Marcus was only doing
what he felt was right, I was sinking in resentment and fear.

Marcus became more worried as my anger boiled to an
unbearable point.

“Claire, listen to me. You need to remember your
training.” 

I remained a stoic slab of granite, impenetrable and cold.

Marcus groaned. His strong face was lined with concern. “If
you lose focus, the pain will be agonizing.”

He was right, I needed to focus, but how could I concentrate
after seeing what Boreas was capable of?

The Creation ritual left little doubt that Boreas was a
supernatural being, a deity, a god. He had created life in front of me,
with
me. But more than ever, I was convinced I could not tolerate his Light. Seeing
it demonstrated had filled me with fear and awe. All that power... How could a
human like me survive this? Perhaps a person born in Borealis could bear it,
but even the Creation ritual hadn’t convinced me that I was Borealian. There
were too many memories, too meticulously constructed for Earth to be a
fabrication of my mind.

“If you disobey—” Marcus didn’t get a chance to finish his
sentence.

God had arrived.

As the Creator made his way to his throne, Marcus wrapped
his left fist in his right palm and bowed his head. “Master.”

At that moment, I decided I had to make one last ditch
effort to plead my case.

On his throne, Boreas sat with his back straight and knees
slightly parted. His mood was cool, but guarded. Could he sense the turmoil
inside me?

Wrapped in a cobalt blue silk robe, he was beautiful, virile
and terrifying. I remembered how fabulous it was to be filled with him, to feel
his cock plowing into me. It roused something inside of me. I was ashamed of
myself for thinking such things.

Galen stood behind him, visibly tense. The healer knew more
than he was saying, I was sure of it.

A painful tightness gripped my chest as I saw the familiar
cross table. It was now or never. I shuffled a couple of steps towards him.
“Pardon me, Master, but I need to speak to you.”

He lifted an eyebrow in amusement.

Marcus grabbed my arm, his eyes frantic and insistent. He
tried to pull me away, but God raised his finger. “Let her come to me, Marcus.
Any sub with this much courage deserves to be heard.”

My knees knocked together until I reached the foot of his
throne. With a show of reverence, I knelt and touched my head to the floor in
worship pose. “Thank you, Master.”

“Speak.”

Slowly, I lifted my chin, but kept my eyes lowered. “Master,
I’m afraid there has been a mistake.”

Galen grimaced and rubbed his face. Though I couldn’t see
what Marcus was doing behind me, I imagined his sentiments matched Galen’s.

God interlaced his fingers together and leaned forward. “Is
that so?”

“You are the most powerful being I have ever known, Master.
You’ve created a magical world filled with unimaginable beauty.”

“Claire, please,” Marcus whispered, his voice pained.

“But I still do not believe I’m Borealian.”

Marcus sighed behind me. Galen looked stricken as he
squeezed his eyes shut.  

God’s face remained impassive. When he spoke his tone had no
hint of emotion. “There is only one planet in our universe that can sustain
life: Borealis.”

“But I have vivid memories of places, societies,
institutions, laws and sciences that are completely different than Borealis!”

“Yet you don’t remember your name.”

The words were like a slap to my face. “No, Master,
but—"

“This other world lives in your head because of your lack of
imprinting. You have heard this many times from me, Galen and your Dom. We have
all but proved it, have we not?”

That last sentence chilled me. He was talking about the
Creation ritual, the one that Marcus had forgotten and I would have forever
burned into my memory.

“Master, your power is so great that it is taking every
ounce of strength to even be this close to you. If I can barely be near you,
how can I survive your Light?”

Boreas cinched his brows together. “I will tell you what you
can and cannot bear.”

A sob leapt out of my throat. “Please Master, I beg for your
mercy.”

God bolted out of his throne and snatched my chin in a vice
grip. He took a breath, speaking through a clenched jaw. “You have been heard,
sub. Now be silent and obey.”

I had offended and enraged him. Quite possibly the worst
thing I could have done, especially now.

Sinking in a river of defeat, I sat on my haunches, unable
to move.

“On Borealis, you cannot die from pain. But if you continue
to disobey me, Claire, I will not hesitate to send you and your Dom to the Next
place.”

I wasn’t ready to die and I certainly wasn’t going to get
Marcus killed. He didn’t deserve that.

“Get up, sub.”

When I was on my feet, God looked at the cross seductively
and then turned his gaze to me.

My blood congealed.  

Before my next breath, Marcus was beside me. “You can turn
this around, just think of your training.”

Everything within me was telling me to run, but I knew I was
trapped.

God stared at me, spellbound, as I tentatively shrugged out
of my top and pulled off my skirt. Shuddering, I stepped out of the puddle of
clothes and took Marcus’s hand. He help me get on the table. Using the leather
straps, he secured me to the cross with my legs spread wide and my arms
stretched out. I was a helpless erotic offering to a sadistic god.

After a final check of the straps, my Dom leaned into my
face. “I love you, Claire. Remember that, concentrate on our love and we will
get through this together.”

Before my Dom’s words could sink in, God sauntered to my
prone figure and positioned himself between my thighs.

God’s power was as intense as it had been during the
Creation ritual, but it had an undeniable evil thread weaved through it.

There was a savage glint in his eye as his finger leisurely
traced a path from my big toe, up to my inner thigh and to my sex. Boreas
parted the delicate lips, stretching them apart until my clitoris was exposed.
His chest rose and fell. I could hear his breathing accelerate.  

Reality disintegrated around me, leaving me hopeless and
alone.

As Theophanes had done in training, Boreas removed a glass
sphere from one of the table legs. It glowed with a flickering blue
fluorescence, a hundred times more brilliant than the sphere used in training.
His Light.

A blurry memory surfaced while I fixated on the orb: my
hands on a plasma ball at a child’s museum. It was an innocent, joyful memory;
how cruel that it surfaced at this horrible moment.

Boreas hefted the sphere and it hovered above his palm
languidly, defying gravity. The crushing energy in the room kicked up another
notch, threatening to devour me.

Marcus tightened his grip on my hand. “Focus on me, Claire,
not the Light!”

But I couldn’t help myself. The seductive power of the Light
mesmerized me. In the nucleus of the sphere a lightning storm crackled,
churning with ominous clouds.

Boreas peeled off his robe and leaned his naked body towards
mine. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “What is this body for?”

Robotically, I spoke my part, my voice cracking and shaky.
“My body was created for your pleasure, Master, do with it what you will.”

His skin flushed as a slow, oily smile appeared on his lips.

“Please,” I said in a tiny voice, but my plea was ignored.

A desperate command from Marcus barely registered. “Look at
me, Claire!” I was too entranced by the Light to listen.

“Behold, my Light, the essence of my power which I now share
with you. May Aurora come as you do.”

The excitement in God’s eyes when he uttered those words
petrified me. The agony he was about to inflict was beyond erotic to him, it
was his divine right.

“With this Light we will become one, bound by pleasure and
pain.”

Marcus begged me to pay attention. His words were an
abstract mumble I couldn’t decipher.

God controlled the sphere without touching it. When it
dropped between my breasts, it seared me like a hot brand. “No!!”

Using only his index finger he rolled the ball over my left
breast and then over my right. The pain was shocking, but when the ball rolled
over my nipples it took my breath away. “Stop! Oh, God, please!”

“Claire, look at me!” Marcus was shouting now, but I was too
far gone. Nothing existed but all-consuming pain.

God slid the crackling sphere between my breasts and down to
my belly. It was a scorching, electric pain that lit up my nerve endings. I
screamed and cried. I fought so hard against the restraints that the leather
bit into my skin and broke it, leaving me bleeding.

Boreas allowed the ball to travel from my left ankle, up to
my thigh, over and across my belly and then to my right thigh, ending on my
right ankle. I prayed that I would lose consciousness or go into shock.

God withdrew the ball from my skin and I sunk into the
table, exhausted and wracked with throbbing pain. My stomach turned as I
smelled the acrid tang of burning flesh. My flesh.

The sphere had left angry red tracks everywhere it had gone.
I was shaking so hard I thought I was having a seizure.

To my complete horror he brought the sphere close my belly
again. He lowered it until it hovered a couple of inches from my sex.

“No, no, no!!” I screeched, trying in vain to scoot away
from it.

The sphere lowered itself slowly until it found my vulva,
then pressed itself against it with an offensive sizzle. A scream died in my
mouth as I started to convulse.

God disappeared. Marcus and Galen came into focus.

All the blood had drained from Marcus’s face as he watched
Galen wave his hands over my gruesome wounds.

Galen’s hands glowed like the sphere, but instead of pain,
they brought healing. The smell of scorching flesh lingered, but the burn marks
vanished with each pass of the light.

Marcus quickly unbuckled my leather restraints and scooped
me into his arms, pressing his lips against my forehead. He was shaking and
covered with sweat.

My heart hammered against my chest as adrenaline continued
to course through my veins like a drug, but I was not feeling any pain. Though
I welcomed the relief, there was a wrongness about it too.

Galen propped himself against the cross apparently exhausted
from the effort. While he tried to catch his breath, he cut his eyes to mine
and I saw guilt mingled with compassion. He didn’t like this either, but even
with all his gifts and influence, he didn’t have the power to reign God in, at
least not when it came to the Goddess ritual.

After the immense torture I had endured only moments ago, my
body was whole again. No burns. No blood. I had been saved by my Dom and the
Healer, but my spirit would be forever scarred.