Meeting of the Six Ings

Day Two

Soft morning light filtered through the windows as Catrine took in the new day. She wasn't sure when Master Ryan had returned to the suite last night, but he had moved her into the bedroom and he now laid soundly asleep beside her.

The enormous bed they shared was ridiculously comfortable. The warm down quilt enveloped her and the soft sheets caressed her skin. It had been a restful night and she lingered a moment enjoying the quiet of the early morning.

She sat up carefully and noted that despite the size of the bed, she had slept pressed tightly against him. Ryan slept on his back with one arm draped across the top of her pillow as if beckoning her to lie back down across his bare, broad chest. She admitted to herself that she was tempted. She had felt safe with him since the moment she found herself in his possession. More than safe, she was comforted by his words and his presence.

These were basic qualities she had taken for granted in her formative years; before the war, before the invasion, before her slavery. It took just one day to be reminded of the extent of her loss. It was so much more than her freedom or even her sexuality; it was the absence of human kindness and generosity that she found most distressing.

She touched her collar tentatively as she dwelled on the thought. In so many ways it defined her now. Not just her treatment, but more comprehensively, how she acted and even most of the time, how she thought. There was no place for naivety in her world and she willed herself to tread carefully. She had to remember that the decency Ryan had shown her was nothing more or less than that. It certainly wasn't anything to confuse with affection or protection.

—-

He watched her thoughtfully as she knelt there on the bed. She was sitting just beside him, so close he could touch her if he chose. But, he didn't want to disturb her. She was fingering the golden collar around her neck and staring out the window. She appeared to be lost in thought and he quickly became lost in her.

Her silk nightgown did nothing to conceal her body. If anything, it further accentuated it. A deliberate choice, he realized. Despite himself, his eyes sought her out, savoring the slight straps that ran over her shoulders. He followed them to the low-cut seam across the top of her breasts, revealing a hint of the soft flesh below. He could make out the slight outline of her nipples straining against the fabric, aroused slightly by the texture of the soft silk. The lacy fabric traveled over the gentle curve of her hip and lead him to the top of her thighs. He remembered the silky, bare, softness he had discovered there yesterday as his fingers had explored her body. He thought of her fevered desire as he touched her most intimate places. He could almost hear her soft cries as he filled her completely. He felt blood rushing to his loins as he hardened at the thought.

Suddenly uncomfortable, he shifted his position in the bed to conceal the manifestation of his thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his head vigorously to shake himself back to the present. Then, he reached out to grasp her hand and began in a friendly tone, "Hey beautiful, how did you sleep?"

His movement and words startled her a bit, but she recovered herself quickly.

"Very well. Thank you." she said and she couldn't help a slight smile as her eyes met his. His hair was unruly and his eyes practically sparkled as he looked at her. She had worked to keep her tone formal despite the intimacy of their setting, but her rapid heartbeat threatened to give her away. Surrounded by the sheets and without the formality of his suit, he looked so young and beautiful in the pale light of the room. He had slept only in pajama bottoms and now, sitting in front of her, she could see the outline of the powerful muscles in his torso. She was tempted to reach out and stroke the soft hair across his sternum but quickly recovered herself and dropped her eyes.

He knit his brows as he studied her. She seemed to be holding something back. He sat up fully so that he faced her directly and chased her eyes with his own, hunting for the connection he had felt with her the evening before. There close contact made Catrine increasingly uncomfortable.

"Hey," he said to her quietly, stroking the tops of her hands in his fingers. "Come back to me." He tugged gently on her hands and he leaned into her more closely, willing her eyes to meet his.

She looked at him but didn't say any more. He let the silence stretch between them for a moment as if considering what to say next. Finally, he seemed to settle on the words as he began, "This place is a dangerous place. Especially for you. I didn't really understand that when I brought you here. But, I think I'm beginning to understand it now."

He continued, "I have three days to close this business and three days to keep you safe. And, you have my word that I intend to do both. But, to do that, I'll need your help and I'll need your trust."

She fixed her eyes on his, surprised by the direction of their conversation. Her first reaction was disbelief that he had even uttered those words: Trust? This was not something her masters demanded of her. Unwaivering obedience, yes, but trust was irrelevant. The thought was quickly replaced by skepticism and doubt: Was she being subjected to some kind of sick test?

But as she felt his hands squeeze hers tightly, his genuine eyes watching her intently, she opened her heart a little bit to believe him at his word.

She bit down on her lower lip still considering the weight of his comments. "Master Ryan," she began softly, his watchful stare making her apprehensive. She looked like she was about to continue, but instead he saw her lip quiver before she appeared to redirect her thoughts. Finally, she answered simply, "I will do my best."

He reached up to her face and stroked her hair softly. He knew there was more to her thinking and he wanted to push her to say more, but he stopped short. He couldn't begin to empathize with her reality and he certainly didn't want to make anything harder for her in the process.

Instead, he sought to reassure her. Duplicating his actions from the day before, his fingers moved from her hair to caress her cheek. His thumb made small circular strokes across her lips. He drank in the feel of her under his fingertips, savoring the powerful energy that traveled between them. "God, you are pure beauty and pure innocence." He said aloud, more to himself than to her.

She almost whimpered at his soft words and his soft touch. Despite her apprehension, she hungered for it, craving that fragile feeling of connection blossoming between them. Almost imperceptibly, she tightened her fingers on the hand that held hers, covering it gently with her other hand. It was a small act, but a bold act for a slave; taking something that she wanted without asking permission first. She looked carefully into his blue eyes trying to assess his reaction. They widened slightly with recognition.

He let go of her hands and pulled her into a deep and passionate kiss. His motions were soft but still demanding. He needed to taste her, pushing her lips to open so that he could sweep his tongue across her. She was so sweet.

He groaned as his lips tenderly explored her mouth, surprised that just the slightest touch of her lips against his sent a pulsing current traveling across his body. He lingered there, touching his tongue to hers gently, urging her tenderly to respond. He wrapped up her hair in his hands, and grasped her head tightly. He was going crazy just from the taste of her.

He was so powerful and yet so gentle at the same time. She had never felt anything like it and it stirred something inside of her. She let out a small gasp as she pressed her hands against his chest, exploring the softness of his skin beneath her fingertips and stroking her thumbs across the indentations of his collar bone. She could feel the powerful muscles of his shoulders and chest as he tightened his hold around her body.

She returned his kiss with more confidence, a warmth growing deep in her belly as their mouths explored each other. He sucked at her lip softly and grazed it with the tip of his teeth before moving his lips across her jaw and down the side of her neck.

He pressed his hand against her backside and pushed her flush against him as she cried out again. She marveled at the sensations of their bodies pressed together; only the satin of her nightgown acting as the thin barrier between their bare skin. The feeling of their connection was overwhelming her senses.

She felt his hardness growing against her leg as his hands swept across her back and down her behind. His response to her seemed so natural, organic, and such a change from the forced actions usually demanded of her by her Masters.

Her body flushed as her body seized with desire for him and she gasped again as she realized it was a totally new sensation: her body's own, uninhibited and unforced sexual response. She was nearly overtaken by the power of it.

He growled against her mouth and then released her lips to look again into her eyes. She breathed heavily and looked at him with a combination of wonder and alarm. He smiled at her and she blushed slightly in response. Her natural reaction made her face even more beautiful. He pressed his forehead against hers and worked to slow his breathing.

Glancing at the alarm next to his bed he sighed reluctantly, "I could do nothing but stay here and kiss you. But, we need get ready to head downstairs and face a new day with the Kings before they come looking for us."

He unwrapped her tenderly from his arms, smoothing her hair and squeezing her hand before turning to get ready quickly. Catrine took a moment to gather her wits and then went to her drawer, assessing its meager contents. She pulled out a pale pink dress, the style identical to the one she wore the day before, and matching panties. She freshened up quickly and found Ryan already waiting for her at the door.

He smiled at her and held her hand as they walked down the corridor and into the elevator. As the doors closed, he pulled her against him in a forceful embrace. She could have stood right there forever, never leaving the comfort of his arms. He brought his lips to her hair and delivered a final tender kiss just at the top of her hairline. By the time the doors opened, he had stepped forward authoritatively and Catrine had assumed her proper place just behind him.

—

They entered the room and found the Kings had already assembled for their meeting. "Good morning Mr. Pierce," King Dutton acknowledged, which perked the attention of the others in the room.

"Yes, good morning indeed," crooned King Arick who stepped into the center of the room, assuming his preferred role of Ring Master. "We missed you last night, Mr. Pierce! You left us in such a hurry. The fun was only just beginning and suddenly..." he said, waiving his fingers through the air with a flourish, "...you had just disappeared!" He looked at Ryan but didn't pause long enough to give him the chance to speak.

"We were very disappointed. Yes. Very disappointed indeed." He complained. "So, the Kings and I were chatting this morning and determined that the only way we believe we can get past this small setback is to deliver a punishment."

"A punishment?" Ryan repeated his word, confused by exactly how they intended to punish him. Were they revoking the contract or changing the terms? He tried to connect exactly how this would impact the fragile arrangement he was working to broker and what that would mean for his future.

"Yes, of course!" He said without delay and with a little too much delight. "Each of us will a deliver a punishment to that delicious little slave of yours! A spanking should suffice I think?" He looked to the other Kings for confirmation. "Five smacks each to ease our dismay?" There was a murmur of consent in the room as the Kings openly ogled Catrine.

King Arick flashed her a predatory smile. She stepped behind Ryan as if trying to hide herself from their stare.

Ryan's heart raced in his chest. His vow to keep her safe all but demolished within seconds of their entering the room. He was fixed to the spot as his mind furiously worked to find words to appease them, but he kept coming up blank.

"You do it." He heard Catrine whisper into his ear. Her voice was so quiet he wasn't sure if he had imagined it. He closed his eyes and shook his head 'no' forcing back the idea and answering her at the same time. 

"Are you denying us?" King Arick interrupted indignantly.

Ryan's eyes opened purposefully and met Arick's offended stare. His resolve hardened as he pulled himself to his full stature and summoned his confidence. "She is mine," he growled at Arick, "and I will deliver her punishment if that is your choosing."

A look of disappointment swept across King Arick's features and several of the other kings voiced their discontent aloud. It was King Dutton who spoke up and agreed with Ryan. "Mr. Pierce is absolutely within his rights as Master to administer the punishment."

Ryan felt slightly better, having the support of at least one of the Kings. But, then Dutton gestured to the center of the room as if it were a stage and settled himself back in his seat to enjoy the little show that was about to begin. "As you please, Mr. Pierce," he said decisively.

Seeing that Ryan was rooted to the spot, it was Catrine who took the initiative. She stepped out from behind his shadow and moved deliberately to the center of the room. With a grace that left him breathless, Ryan watched stunned, as she placed her hands gently on the edge of his desk. Keeping her legs straight, she slid her palms forward until her cheek rested against the solid mahogany tabletop. Her short skirt inched up her hips baring the tops of her thighs invitingly as she tipped herself forward. Her behind lifted enticingly as she settled into her position. Her hair fell softly beside her and she stilled completely.

She searched Ryan's eyes once more seeking the promise he had made to her earlier, trying to reassure him of her trust with her expression. Then, she closed her eyes and waited for him to step forward.

"She is, indeed, very well trained," King Dutton complimented him.

Ryan swallowed hard and stepped forward. Let this be a means to an end. He prayed silently as he stopped beside her. He stroked his palm gently down and up the length of her naked back. He was trying to soothe her, but he was also working up the courage he needed to continue.

He was surprised that the feel of her skin and the softness of his strokes also managed to soothe him considerably. After a few moments, he breathed deeply and swept her hair up in his hands, twisting it gently and placing it at the nape of the neck to make sure it was fully away from his strikes.

Returning one hand to her back, he swept the other down her backside and under her skirt, allowing his fingers to skitter along the very bottom of her ass. Her skin felt achingly soft, just like every other part of her that he had touched. He resisted the urge to linger there as he heard her gasp softly at his touch.

Repeating the same motion, this time his fingers lifted the hem of her skirt as they passed, fully exposing her panty covered backside to the room. Her underwear was made entirely of pale pink lace, matching the fabric of her dress, and perfectly cupping the tiny globes of her ass. Although it was cut to cover her fully, the texture of her creamy skin peeking through the delicate design of the lace was more appealing than if she had been bare.

The Kings made appreciative noises as their eyes were riveted to the place where she was spread before them. Ryan realized that he too was drawn to her like this. Her beauty seemed to be amplified by the vulnerability of her position and it stoked his own desire for her. The sensual energy was palpable in the room and Ryan couldn't help but feel an urge to continue touching her.

He stroked his hand gently across the lace that covered her bottom, tracing its design with his fingertips. The found the spot where the seems came together in the crook of her ass and stroked it softly, increasing the pressure as his fingers moved up and down repeatedly. He reached for the lacy edges and tugged them slightly so that the fabric rested higher on her hip, exposing more of her to the room. Then, he pressed his hand firmly against her bare right cheek, warming her skin with his touch and massaging her ever so gently.

He looked at Arick who was seated closest to him, answering his earlier provocation with his now determined stare. They eyed each other fiercely as he reached his hand back and delivered a swift smack directly against the place he had warmed just a second before.

"One," she cried out in answer to his action. The sound pierced right through his soul and his hands froze in place. His instincts were screaming to stop this madness, to grab her and flee. How could he be the administrator of such an injustice?

But, he knew not to abide by his instincts. These powerful Kings were keen on dolling out consequences when things didn't go their way. He suspected they wouldn't even make it out of the building if he tried to take her and flee. Instead, he looked down at her and softly stroked her bottom, now a brightening shade of pink, before fixing his heated eyes again on Arick, anchoring his resolve, and repeating his motion from before.

She remained perfectly still, working hard to focus her attention on the lengthy soft caresses and not the short punctuating slaps she received. He was helping her along by varying his points of contact. He methodically worked his way down the her right cheek and then back up the left. He softly grazed her pussy lips with his fingers which made her jump slightly. The soft pressure a wonderful distraction from her pain. She counted each one aloud, as she had always been instructed.

She wanted to endure this without showing emotion, shielding herself from the raw vulnerability she felt. She thought briefly of his kind words and the sweet kiss they had shared in his bed and the pain eased slightly.

But, by the time she counted out fifteen, her voice cracked from the pain and she shifted her position slightly with each slap. By twenty, she counted aloud with a heartrending sob.

Ryan stiffened. Her agony striking the match against the kindling of anger inside of him. He increased his tempo, but eased the force of his blows, as he sought to quickly conclud the punishment.

"Twenty-four was it?" His voiced boomed across the room, conveying an unnamed threat in his question. His voice was steady, but it was laced with steel and his body was rigid in place. Sensing his defiance, King Arick stepped forward to challenge Ryan's body language and tone.

Feeling the growing tension, King Dutton stepped forward to interrupt. "That will do nicely, Mr. Pierce." He turned to the others in the room and continued, "Gentlemen, let's take a few moments to find our own release following this excellent display. I'm sure you'll agree that it has left you wanting?" He smiled at them knowingly.

He pulled his own slave to standing and she stood silently by his side before following him expeditiously out of the room. The others turned their attention to their own slaves, following Dutton's lead. With a final glance in Ryan's direction, Arick stepped back and roughly grabbed his own slave to release his pent-up desire.

Catrine was still standing in place, with her body draped across the desk. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was quiet but labored. Ryan realized grimly that she was waiting for permission to stand.

Quickly, he crossed over to her and tentatively touched the reddening marks left by his hands. She winced slightly and he cringed at her expression. He softly replaced the lace of her panties to their rightful position and then smoothed the soft silken skirt over that. He ran his hand gently up her back, grasping both hands on her shoulders and using them to gently pull her up to standing and then to turn her softly so she faced him.