Ris Versus Reward

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.

In the previous chapter, Karin, Desi, and Betty have left Doctor Moreau and The Academy behind to strike out on their own. And after being treated to an enthusiastic private performance of the famous Karin and Desi show, our trio of heroines is hoping that their first group of domme clients is ready to sign.

I hope you the last chapter Karin's continuing story.

WaxPhilosophic

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Chapter 22: Sealed With an Intimate Kiss

We stood in front of the glass door lettered with Leibovich & Roselli Massage and Aroma Therapy, and I knew that Desi and I had lingered too long with my tongue up her ass. Elena and Carly were standing on the other side holding hands while Carly mouthed the words, 'They just left,' and Elena pointed at the floor with her index finger. I knew they were telling us that the group had already been here and moved on, so I didn't even bother to open the door. I just blew them both a kiss and trotted toward the stairwell, hand-in-hand with Desi as we headed the catering business on the ground floor.

It wasn't just dumb luck that Carly and Elena were our neighbors and that a group of mostly penniless women like us was able to afford the rent in a nice commercial building like this without yet having established a stream of income. No, that was very much thanks to Carly's cousin Vincent who owned the entire office complex as part of the family business and agreed to waive the rent for a month. Yeah, Carly from fuckin' New Jersey actually has a Cousin Vinny in commercial real estate -- how stereotypically cool is that?

I kept waiting for him to say that he might be inclined to ask us for a favor some day as we signed the lease papers, but he really is just about the nicest guy I've ever met. We had even spoken about making a single exception to our rule of only accepting female clients just to find Vinny a nice girl to come home to in the evenings, but when Carly got wind of it she laughed and explained that he was probably schtupping the building manager. She actually said schtupping too. Picked that up from Elena, I bet.

"They pick a date yet?" I asked Desi as we emerged on the ground floor.

"Carly and Elena?" Desi fixed me with a look that said she thought I might have crossed the bridge to insanity. "Honey, it took them three weeks to decide that it was going to be Liebovich and Roselli on the door instead of Roselli and Liebovich. What makes you think they're moving any faster on tying the knot?"

"I don't know, they just seem so content together."

"We're content together and we're not getting married." Desi leaned in close so that her lips were just brushing my earlobe. "You

are

still content, aren't you Karin?"

I shivered at the tickling feeling of her hot breath and the still-warm memories of a few short minutes ago in my office with her laid out over my desk. "Yes, baby."

"Good." Desi kissed me quick on the cheek and turned to yank the door open onto Chowdury's Cakes and Catering.

We wound our way past wire shelves stacked to the ceiling with canned goods and around big stainless steel prep tables until we came to the small VIP room in the back. The brash fluorescent lighting of the big commercial kitchen gave way to a warm subdued glow provided by a single, ornate chandelier over the large round table. The women we were wooing as clients were all smiling now as their wineglasses were being kept full by a trio of hostesses. And while our very own Mistress Betty Nguyen was explaining to the women how their girls would be immersed in intensive culinary arts training at this very five-star facility, I felt a hand grabbing my ass.

I knew exactly who it was as soon as I felt it, as did Desi, so when we turned around it was no surprise that we were treated to the grinning face of Miss Vishranti Chowdhury, proprietor of the establishment and a near spitting image of our very own Miss Chowdhury from our Academy days.

"How are you girls?" she said with that same delightful rolling of her Rs, though without the overwhelming knock you on your ass smell of booze that I came to expect with her big sister. Still just as handsy though, squeezing our butts as she was.

I tried to answer, but she had spun us around and was now clutching Desi and me to her generous bosom and hugging us like we'd been away for ages. I finally settled for a soft moan of contentment as I breathed in the aroma of confectionery delights that always seems to surround the woman.

I don't know if it was all the similarities to the faculty luncheon in The Academy boardroom so many months ago, or the fact that I was still horny from Desi on my desk, or just that I really wanted our enterprise to succeed, but I turned to the younger Chowdhury and asked her if she had any pillows in her office that she wouldn't mind having dragged over the floor. And as she smiled and trotted off I leaned over to whisper in Betty's ear offering my under the table services for any of the women who might be interested. Desi was nodding, so I assumed she was game as well.

"Ladies," Betty announced. "My girls have informed me that they would be happy to provide lunchtime entertainment for any of you who did not opt for the happy ending with your massage, or if you just feel as though you might need another one." Betty paused a moment as a light chuckle arose from the table. "Just place your napkin on your left knee to signal your willingness."

Desi and I grabbed our pillows and dived under the table just as the salad course was being brought in by the trio of hostesses.

In all honesty there was probably no need for us to do this, I think all of these potential clients were ready to sign up. But it was fun, and Desi and I got to hold hands as we took care of these lusty babes two at a time. Though when I came across the first woman wearing pants -- white pants no less, just like Moreau had worn on that fateful day -- my mind got yanked back to that faculty luncheon and I paused for a second. This woman had her napkin draped over her left knee indicating that she was indeed willing, but still I froze. I sat there on my haunches, wanting to get up and run for the door but unable to move, until Desi nudged me.

"It's OK," she said. "Let's trade."

"I can do this," I said and then took another minute trying to convince myself that my words were actually true. And as I sat there leaning back on my ass, attempting to summon the courage to get over my Doctor Moreau flashback, I heard Betty's words filtering down under the tablecloth to reach my ears. She was explaining about the dominant training class, that while flexible in scheduling and location, was an absolute prerequisite and that no girls would ever be matched up before this requirement was fulfilled.

"Both you and the girls you employ will retain the right to cancel the contract at any time." Betty was saying. "It is a two-way street after all, and both parties need to be treated with proper respect and should have no doubts when it comes to their personal safety."

The room went silent. And for a moment I was almost afraid that Betty Nguyen was the only domme in the world who understood the needs of those who chose to submit to her. If that were the case then I certainly hoped that Vishranti was going to let us take the leftovers home, because this enterprise was sunk.

I reached out for Desi's hand in comfort.

"To the beautiful partnership between dominant and submissive," someone said from up above.

When I heard the rattling of glassware from all around the table I knew that Desi and Betty and I were not alone in our ideals, and that there were indeed women in this world who could be trusted to genuinely care for those who chose to surrender to them. I squeezed Desi's hand. We were going to make it, and we were going to show a lot of girls the same path to happiness that we found with Betty. Everything we had been through, each decision that led us here -- good or bad, clear-cut or risky as hell -- it was all worth it. And in that cramped space under the table, I hugged Desi to my chest and professed my undying love for her, and for Betty, and for everything we shared together.

"You can get all mushy later, baby," she said. "But right now we've got six more pussies to eat before the dessert course, so mind on task, OK?"

It was dim in the room, and even darker under the table, but I like to think that Desi saw me sticking my tongue out at her before she leaned forward to dive into the woman who was waiting for her with thighs spread and already fingering herself with anticipation.

*

Epilogue: Home Sweet Home

I woke up to the glorious smell of pancakes and the wonderful warmth of Desi snuggled up next to me with her arm across my chest. Mornings didn't get nearly as cold in this little farmhouse as it did in the one Betty rented back in Michigan, but she had stoked up the fire in the potbelly stove just the same. I think it was the little touches like these that made me love her so much. That and the pancakes. Oh my goodness those pancakes smelled good.

"You should have slept in and let us make breakfast for you." I stretched and ran my fingers through my hair. "It's only right ... Mistress."

I watched a broad grin spreading over Betty's lips at the same time Desi picked up her arm and smacked me on the shoulder. No words, just a smack. It was probably her own little anti-social way of telling me that nothing in this world should dare stand in the way of her enjoyment of Betty's homemade blueberry pancakes.

"Every one of them signed, Karin," Betty said. "Every single one. And I know that a large part of that was because of the world famous Karin and Desi show that you two so willingly put on for them not only once, but twice. So if my ancient family recipe blueberry pancakes can in any way begin to show my gratitude, I would gladly make you girls a whole stack."

I knew she was pulling my leg -- not about the gratitude, that was genuine, but about the pancakes.

"Ancient family recipe my ass," I said. "You got that recipe off the internet. The printout is still stuck to the fridge."

"You'd best be careful with that attitude of yours, missy." Betty was trying hard to conceal a smirk, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her.

"Or what?" I said. "You'll crop my ass pink before you split me in two with that big scary strap-on?"

"Be careful what you wish for." She set the plates down on the side table and was standing with her arms crossed, trying to look stern. I still wasn't convinced. She looked too sweet standing there in her silk robe with her hair slightly tousled.

I could hear Desi groaning as she pulled the covers up over her head. She was not nearly as much of a morning person as I was and tended to save all of her goading for the evenings. Betty was neither nocturnal or diurnal as far as I could tell, and was pretty much ready to teach either of us a lesson at whatever time of the day or night she felt it was called for. And last night in my extra-horny state brought on by servicing half a table full of clients, I had practically begged her to split me down the middle just like she did so regularly with Desi. I wasn't quite to Desi's level of wantonness in that regard, but I was learning to enjoy it and practice, as they say, makes perfect.

"Actually I was hoping you would plunder my ass again while my girlfriend rides my face. I haven't tasted that sweet little pussy of hers in something like, oh eight hours or so. I'm starting to get the shakes."

Desi let out another groan from under the covers.

"Maybe I should send you back to school instead," Betty said. "See if maybe another month with Moreau can train you up into a more respectful girl."

I watched her reach into the pocket of her robe, pull out her phone and toss it in my direction. I plucked it out of the air and skimmed the news article that she had up on the screen. "Wow," I said. "Legal action?"

"Are you surprised? Hazing. Gross negligence. Endangering the student body. I'm sure at least one of those charges will stick."

"I think I need somebody to endanger my student body." I gave her my best cheese-eating grin.

I heard Desi groaning and watched as she pushed herself farther under the covers.

Betty just grinned and picked up the crop that was conveniently propped up against the wall. She swished it around in the air a few times. "Eat your pancakes first, Karin."

"Yes, Mistress."

* * *

Afterword

For those of you who have made it to the end of this series, I hope you have enjoyed the ride as much as I did. I'm turning on the stars for this one, and I ask that you please use it to rate the entire series, not just this chapter.