Outlander (Borealis) by Ellie Bay Page B

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.

Chapter 5
    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