Outlander (Borealis) by Ellie Bay

made me feel uneasy at the same
time. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about being his .
    “We need to start training now,” he said.
    I glanced at my body. “You’re not going to train me naked,
are you, Dominus?”
    He licked his lips, resting his hands under my breasts.
“Don’t tempt me.”
    Exhilaration darted from a hundred nerve endings as he gave
each breast a gentle squeeze. “As much as I’m enjoying this, we have a lot of
work to do.”
    From the chest of drawers he pulled out what looked like a
bunch of thin crisscrossed leather strands. “This is what you will wear for
training.”
    He had to be kidding. I held the leather outfit between my
thumb and index finger like it was on fire. “These aren’t clothes. There’s
nothing here to cover my privates, Dominus!”
    “Your body is not private, only your soul is. And I will
guard both with my life.”
    Damn it! I did not want to wear that thing, then again this
was a different culture, a different planet, and for God’s sakes I had to learn
to fit in. I would never survive if I applied Earth rules to Borealis.
    “Besides, this outfit gives me easy access to you.” Marcus
pulled one of my nipples, sending a warm twitch of need behind my pelvis. “All
of you. And if you do well, I will reward you.”
    The idea of protesting crossed my mind briefly, but my mouth
refused to work. On the other hand, my pussy—I decided I might as well adopt
Borealian lingo while I was here—was busy making plans.
    “Pardon the interruption, Marcus.” Galen stood outside our
cell. “I’ve come to check on your submissive.”
    I pressed my forearms against my breasts to shield them from
the healer’s eyes, though everything below my waist was still exposed.
Cringing, I turned beet red.
    “Of course.” Marcus unlocked the cell and hurried him
inside.
    This was another lesson I had learned. Public
nudity—particularly in subs—was not only encouraged, it was expected.
    Galen was polite enough to pretend like he didn’t notice my
embarrassment. “How are you feeling?”
    I sat on the bench, my knees gathered up under my chin.
“Fine, but I still don’t remember anything?”
    Marcus gave me a harsh look. “Galen is a demigod. You will
address him by his proper title—Galen or My Lord.”
    A demigod? Holy shit—what the hell was that?  “Sorry,
Galen.”
    “Thank you,” he said, graciously. “I would like to scan you
again in the healing room.”
    No, not that place again! Visibly tense, I cut my eyes to
Marcus. “Galen, I would rather not.”
    Marcus tried to reassure me. “God will not be there.”
    I chewed my lower lip and tried to remember Galen was a
healer, a doctor. Of all the people in Borealis, it was normal for him to see
me naked. “Will you restrain me, Galen? Gag me like before?”
    “No. I assure you it will not be an unpleasant experience.”
    Though I didn’t want to go, I knew it would cause more
problems if I refused.
    “Galen, can I wear some clothes, please?”
    “If you prefer.”
    Marcus handed me the leather training outfit.
    I sighed dramatically. “The other ones, Dominus.”
    He rolled his eyes, but was merciful enough to bring me my
regular clothes.
     
    The healing room, with its bright and sterile feel, brought
back the awful memory of God and his slippery touch. I clung to Marcus’s arm as
if he were my life raft.
    “On the table, sub,” Galen said.
    I winced. The term “sub” made me feel small when anyone but
Marcus said it. Nervously, I broke away from my Dom and complied.
    I studied the Healer’s face as I stretched out on the
examination table; a luxury I had not allowed myself during our traumatic first
meeting. That night I had only noticed his caramel colored irises as they
stared back at me with a mixture of empathy and confusion.
    Though his skin was golden brown, his features were elegant
and refined like a young English aristocrat who had just returned from holiday
in the Caribbean. High cheekbones