Author's Note
Risk Versus Reward is a prequel to Girl Friday and focuses on the story of Karin, the 'H.R. Lady' who provided Charlotte's rather unique interview experience when she was hired. You do not need to read Girl Friday to understand what's going on in Risk Versus Reward. But if you enjoy this story, Girl Friday should most definitely be on your reading list.
The previous chapter found our heroine Karin up on stage being fought over by three women, Doctor Moreau, Headmistress Hendricks, and Mistress Nguyen as part of a hotly contested charity slave auction. To Karin's surprise, the winning bid was secured at considerable expense by Mistress Nguyen, and quite possibly at Desi's behest, but for what reason Karin did not yet know. And with Doctor Moreau no longer on Karin's list of favorite people, how will this all play out? Cue the dramatic music.
I hope you enjoy Karin's continuing story.
WaxPhilosophic
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Chapter 17: Chutzpah Times Three
"You want something to eat?" Mistress Nguyen said. The first words she had uttered since wrapping Desi and me in matching trench coats and hustling us to her Subaru wagon parked just outside the club's rear entrance -- what is it about her and rear entrances anyway? -- and then finally to the front door of a small farmhouse on the edge of town. It was all very clandestine in nature and probably would have seemed a lot weirder had I not been so exhausted from the evening's activities that I spent most of the ride in a daze with my head on Desi's shoulder in the back seat.
"Karin?" Mistress Nguyen said. "Are you hungry, Honey?"
"No Mistress, I'm fine. Thank you for asking." I watched Desi stoking up the fire in a nearby potbelly stove before shedding her trench coat and standing there naked while rubbing her hands together. She looked beautiful and at ease, and just a bit sexy with that lot number still visible at the top of her right butt cheek.
"You can call me Betty if you'd like, Karin," the mistress continued. "You're in my home now, not at The Academy."
"Um, OK." I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about calling her by her first name even when she said it was alright. I guess I was still expecting her to break out that riding crop and start smacking my tender parts.
"Would you like some tea, Baby?" Desi asked, and I nodded.
I stood stiff and motionless, astounded by the quiet of the farmhouse during the time that naked Desi took a kettle from atop the wood-burning stove and filled it with water from the tap. She was so relaxed. Mistress Nguyen -- Betty -- was puttering around in the kitchen when Desi walked in and I watched the two of them pause in what they were doing for a moment to engage in a long and lingering kiss.
It was almost adorable, or it would have been if it weren't for the fact that Desi seemed inclined to do it right out in the open where I could see it. I mean if you're going to be the little piece on the side, wouldn't it make sense to be a little more discrete about it and not do the whole public display of affection thing right in front of your girlfriend? But things became a little clearer -- or perhaps more muddled still -- as the night wore on.
Desi had returned with a full kettle to place on the cast iron stove and had Mistress Nguyen -- Betty -- in tow by the fingertips that she refused to let go. Desi then proceeded to lay a big ole smooch on me as well and when she was done I watched her face erupt into a wide grin.
"Karin," Betty said, gesturing to the trench coat I was still wearing. "Would you like some pajamas?"
"Um," I said. "Um." That was all I could manage.
Pajamas? Tea and fucking pajamas? Not nipple twisting and being bent over in preparation for a dildo that's two sizes two big for any of my openings? What happened to Desi and Nguyen? Had they been abducted by aliens on the ride over and replaced by poorly-constructed doppelgangers?
"Take your clothes off and stay awhile," Desi announced while slipping her hands under my trench coat to encircle the bare skin of my waist.
I shivered at her touch. The aliens did a pretty good job on the Desi doppelganger, she was perpetually horny just like the real thing. It was the Nguyen doppelganger that had me most perplexed. She was too nice -- way too nice.
"Baby, she's probably tired."
That was the last thing I expected to hear from the woman I had come to know as satan's personal P.E. teacher -- concern for me being tired. If the aliens were a little more detail-oriented in the manufacture of their doppelgangers they would have known that the real Mistress Nguyen would never have uttered a caring phrase like that, and that she would have been flicking my tits with a riding crop until I started in on a vigorous round of squat-thrusts.
Stupid, careless aliens. Your hubris will be your undoing!
From the corner of my eye I saw Desi's smile beginning to fade, so I stopped obsessing over dastardly alien plots for a minute and turned to her instead. I struggled a bit with the untying my trench coat belt until Desi realized what I was going for and reached in to help me. And as the coat dropped to the floor at my feet, she pulled me in tight and set about covering my entire face with her sweet little Desi-kisses. Her body had warmed significantly from standing close to the stove and it felt nice having her pressed up against me.
"Thank you, Des," I said.
"Mmm, for what Baby?"
"I don't know yet, but I have a sneaking suspicion that you've orchestrated this whole night, so I know I'm going to like it."
"Not entirely. The orchestrating part that is, not the enjoyment." Betty Nguyen appeared wearing a beautiful dark silk robe and carrying an elegant porcelain tea set on a simple and somewhat battered wooden tray. I caught myself staring, contemplating her transformation as she set the tray on the coffee table in front of the sofa while Desi fetched the kettle from atop the stove to fill the pot. Once that was done and the kettle replaced, Betty gestured for Desi and me to sit, which we did, on either side of her.
"This tea set belonged to my grandmother and has survived many years of war and strife before finding its way into my hands. I like to think that it has a bit of luck in it, and I think we'll need a bit of that luck if we're going to pull off what your girlfriend Desi and I have planned."
I wanted to ask how much luck and planning it could possibly take to strap on an over-sized dildo and spend the night seeing to it that I wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for the next week, but I didn't. Something about Betty Nguyen's entire demeanor had changed, piquing my curiosity and leading me to believe that her plans may not be exactly what I thought.
I saw it on her face as she engaged in the intricate ritual of pouring the tea into one large central cup before transferring it to the three smaller cups clustered on the wooden tray. The way she gazed into Desi's eyes, and into mine was almost like the way a mother would dote on her children. Though as her robe gapped just a bit when she leaned forward, I caught a glint of the sliver dragons still adorning her modest chest and I knew that the old crop-wielding mistress was just on the other side of the door, waiting. But this new Betty persona was taking the spotlight for the moment and I was fascinated.
The cups were arranged so that there was one in front of each of us, but neither Desi nor Betty made a move to pick one up, so I didn't either.
"Karin," Betty Nguyen said. "What do you think of The Academy?"
"Um. Gee, I don't know. It's a pretty good time most days ... I guess." I grimaced as soon as the words crossed my lips.
Way to be decisive Karin.
"I'd say you don't seem entirely convinced."
"Um, well ..."
"Tell her what you told me," Desi interjected.
"That was just a stress dream, Des."
"It's OK Karin," Betty said. "If you don't feel comfortable, let me start."
Betty picked up the cup in front of her and wrapped her fingers around it. I just watched and waited.
"The idea of The Academy is sound," she said. "At least I like to think so. Over the years it has helped many young women find mentors -- the women you call dominants. It has also provided generous scholarships to those who don't feel they're a good fit for the lifestyle The Academy offers. Your friends Jordan and Shauna, for example.
"But over the years I believe our founder's methods have become -- shall we say -- unsound. I believe that her quest to find the perfect submissive has clouded her vision and blinded her to the beautiful relationship that can exist between a dominant and submissive who are truly in harmony with one another."
"Wow," I said, and then instantly regretted the interruption.
"Please elaborate, Karin."
I looked down on the number 248 that was still visible in black marker across the top of my left breast. "Well, Mistress -- um, I mean Betty. When you bid on me at the auction tonight, I assumed it was just because you wanted to take me home and fuck me until I couldn't see straight. Kind of like you're always doing with Desi here."
"You have a very high opinion of yourself."
I felt the blood flushing in my cheeks at her comment.
"Relax, Karin," she said. "Your opinion is justified. You're a very special girl and I would dearly love to fuck you until you can't see straight, and Desi too, but first we have this little matter of business to attend to, and I'd like everyone to have a clear head. And, as you so put it, to be able to see straight if that's alright."
I nodded and reached for my tea cup.
"The Academy is a sinking ship, Karin. I would be surprised if it lasts another year."
I nearly sloshed my tea on my lap. That was the last thing I had expected to hear this evening. Bend over and spread your cheeks while I lube you up, yes. But to hear that she had such a low opinion of the institution that employed her came to me as a complete surprise.
"Surely you've seen it. The corruption in the ranks. The casual disregard for students and their safety. In fact you've experienced it first hand when Doctor Moreau assaulted you that night in the communal bed chamber."
"Um, well ..." I said. "I mean she fucked me. And pretty hard ..."