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your
bath.”
    There was no bathtub in our cell. In fact, there was no
bathroom at all. “Where is the bath?”
    “At the end of the hallway.”
    I reached for my clothes, but he shook his head.
    My mouth dropped open. “I’m not walking naked down the
hall!”
    “All subs walk naked to the bath.”
    I peered into those hypnotic blue eyes of his, hoping he
would cut me some slack. “But—” 
    Marcus put his hands on my shoulders and kissed me lightly
on the bridge of my nose. “Your body is meant to be celebrated. It’s the
Borealian way.”
    After gulping an uncomfortable amount of air, I took his
hand when he offered it.
    His touch was soothing. It steadied me. A chaotic jumble of
questions popped in my head, but pushed them aside. Later, I told myself. 
     
    I followed Marcus outside our cell and through the hallway
that ran between the Dom’s quarters. I took awkward, tentative steps because I
was so self-conscious of my nakedness.
    Our cell was at the far end of the hall which meant we had
to walk by all of the other cells to get to the bath. I counted 36 empty cells
on our walk through the passageway. By the time we passed the last two, I heard
the white noise sound of rushing water.
    The sound amplified as we approached a mammoth rock cave
that appeared to be 100 yards high and about as wide. Several small waterfalls
spilled water into a turquoise lagoon at the center of the cave. A beam of
light—shining from a wide chasm in the cave’s natural ceiling—sparkled with
gold winks as it hit the water. It was a spectacular scene right out of a fairy
tale.
    We weren’t alone. Several other couples had made it to the
bath before us. Doms were oiling their unclothed submissives in deliberate,
luxurious strokes. Almost every foot of the perimeter wall was filled with an
erotic pairing. My knees turned to rubber when I saw that subs were chained by
the ankles and wrists to fasteners on the rock wall.
    Marcus pointed to an empty area. “Here.”
    As we made our way to our station, I talked to ease my
anxiety. “Can I ask you something?”
    Fisting a handful of hair, he gently pulled my head back,
exposing my neck. “Dominus,” he said firmly.
    I gaped up at him from my uncomfortable position. “What?”
His reaction shocked me, though he was being careful not to hurt me.
    “I have been extremely lenient on you, maybe even
indulgent.” He grabbed my chin firmly. “From now on you will address me by my
title at all times, especially in public.”
    This was a darker side to Marcus I hadn’t seen before. I
prayed I hadn’t angered my only ally. “Yes, Dominus,” I said, as if trying the
word out for size. I remembered Marcus telling me about the use of his title in
the healing room. I had forgotten all about it until now. “What does it mean?”
    “The word means Master. The implication is that you are mine
and you will obey me at all times.”
    “But you call God, Master. Isn’t that the same thing,
Dominus?”
    “I am your Master, but he is the Master of all of us.”
    That didn’t sit well with me and I scrunched my nose at the
thought. His God would never be my Master.
    Marcus glared at me disapprovingly. “The next time you
forget to call me Dominus, I will discipline you.”
    Bristling at the threat, my entire body tensed. My words
came out measured with testy undertones. “What exactly does discipline involve,
Dominus?”
    He narrowed his eyes at me. He was either attempting to
discern the meaning of my question or the spirit in which I asked it. “I will
whip your ass until it feels like it’s on fire.”
    “What?” My voice shot up a few decibels, attracting the
attention of those around us.
    Before I could tag “Dominus” to my question, he raised his
hand above his head, then let it fall with a loud smack against my round
bottom.
    I yelped, indignant and offended. “That hurt!” My loud
protest produced shocked faces from the subs and disapproving smirks from the
Doms.
    Another