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 last chapter of Karin’s story took a dark turn. Several people have commented that the relationship between Moreau and Karin was not sexy at all, but rather an example of what not to do. I was actually very pleased to see those comments, because Doctor Moreau is definitely not the angel Karin saw her as in the beginning. But will Karin realize it as well or will she remain trapped? You’ll have to keep reading to find out.
I hope you enjoy Karin’s continuing story.
WaxPhilosophic
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Chapter 13: Desi’s Girl
I woke up completely disoriented. I was in a bed that wasn’t mine, and my head — my head was pounding in a way that suggested that it was quite possible someone had run it over with a steam roller recently. This has to be a dream, I thought, one of those crazy stress dreams that people get about school when they think they’ve missed an important exam and they’re doomed to fail the one class they need to graduate.
Except I didn’t go to college, I skipped the scholarship offer and enrolled in Lesbian Hogwarts instead. So I had my stress dream Academy style, and let me tell you that was far worse. I was tucked up all cozy and warm in that big harem bed with the midday sun streaming through the big picture window, and rather than sleeping through some paltry little final exam, I had slept right through calisthenics. I was toast. I knew this because even after blinking three or four times, Mistress Nguyen was still there sitting on the end of the bed staring at me. But dream P.E. teacher from hell was far more mellow than actual P.E. teacher from hell, because instead of pulling her crop out and slapping the hell out of me until I roused myself enough to start in on some burpees, she just sat there grinning.
Oh, that’s probably because Desi is sucking on her tits … wait, what?
I blinked again, and yes indeed Mistress Nguyen was perched on the edge of the bed wearing only her skimpy black athletic shorts — the ones that looked like they were just a small step up from underwear — and nothing else. Not only was I treated to the sight of a very lean hard chest with minimal tan lines, it was at that moment that I also discovered the true nature of Mistress Nguyen’s nipple jewelry. Well on one side anyway — on the other side I currently had nothing more than a great view of the back of Desi’s head.
The piercing on the side that I could see was a simple silver barbell with a ball on each end, but clutching one of those balls in its three-toed foot was a silver dragon that lay coiled around the mistress’s nipple as if protecting it from evil spirits or something. I wondered briefly if the dragon was employed to guard against horny girlfriends with an unhealthy P.E. teacher fetish. If so, it should have been fired, because Desi was really going to town and the two of them were moaning in a way that let me know the enjoyment was mutual.
I cleared my throat.
“You were asleep. I got bored,” Desi said as she tore herself away just long enough to turn and smile at me. As if a little boredom and her cheese-eating grin explained everything that was going on here.
“How are you feeling, honey?” Mistress Nguyen asked in a surprisingly pleasant tone.
“Um — I missed calisthenics.”
Desi and the mistress looked at each other for a split second before Desi laughed hard enough to snort and Mistress Nguyen actually cracked a slight smile.
“Oh Karin, I think maybe you’re entitled this one time,” Mistress Nguyen said, stroking the nape of Desi’s neck, encouraging her as she resumed her suckling. “I believe Miss Hendrick’s policy is calisthenics unless you are on death’s door. And last night Honey, you certainly looked like you were standing at the threshold.”
My mind returned to the events of last night. The parts of it that I could remember anyway. The experiments, the endless torment, my pleading, her insistence, all culminating in an orgasm that I didn’t want, but despite my noblest intentions came upon me like thunder nonetheless.
“What happened? How’d I get here?”
“She dumped you here last night, Honey. I was here to collect your girlfriend for a proper fucking when she tossed you in.” Mistress Nguyen still felt the need to rub it in my face that she was screwing Desi whenever she felt like it, and in her opinion probably doing a much better job of it. Sadly, I had to admit she was probably right.
“Why?” I asked.
“Why did she toss you in here?” Mistress Nguyen peered over at me and winked. “Or why was I fucking Ankara escort your girlfriend again?”
I ignored her baiting me and just glared back. Pretty bold of me considering how intimidated she still made me. But she was mostly naked and currently having her nipples spit-polished by my girlfriend Desi, and in my mind that made her a little easier to take.
“She was done with you, honey. You obviously passed, otherwise you’d still be in her laboratory.” She said laboratory with a great deal of emphasis on the second syllable as if she were quoting some old horror movie or had suddenly turned eighteenth-century British. Lah-BORE-ih-tory. “You transcended, Honey. You are now the perfect submissive in her book. The ideal human plaything. Congratulations.”
I’m not sure I was entirely comfortable with the way she referred to me as a plaything, or that I sought her congratulations, but I let it slide for the moment in the desire to glean more information. “So what am I doing here?”
“Waiting, Honey. She’s got plans for you, big plans.”
I stared blankly, waiting for her to continue explaining, but she said nothing further about Doctor Moreau or her work. Instead she decided to taunt me again over Desi.
“I’m going to fuck your girl now, Karin. Wanna watch?”
“Actually I was hoping you’d be good enough to take her from behind so that she can give my pussy a tongue bath while you’re splitting her in two.” Touché satan’s spawn.
I shuddered just a little as soon as my mind processed the hasty words that had just left my mouth. I don’t know what I was thinking smarting off to her like that, but neither she nor Desi seemed to take much in the way of notice or offense, so I breathed a small sigh of relief as Mistress Nguyen just grabbed Desi and spun her around. She was facing me now and at the same time had her back pressed up against the guard-dragon on the mistress’s chest.
Mistress Nguyen had Desi’s nipples gripped firmly between her fingers and thumbs, and was busy giving them a wicked squeeze judging from the grimace that crossed Desi’s face. I watched the silvery glint from the newly installed jewelry on Desi’s left side and wondered why she wasn’t screaming in agony right now. It had to be at least a little tender still. But then I figured it out, Mistress Nguyen’s slight of hand trick that she employed. Her finger and thumb were well behind the tender pierced flesh on Desi’s left nipple and she was mostly pinching at the areola — sneaky little she-devil.
“Seems like your mouth has already been spoken for, baby.” Mistress Nguyen leaned her head down within an inch of Desi’s right ear and slid her tongue all around the outside of it while my girlfriend shivered. “Any particular entrance you’d care to have me using this morning, Desirée dear?”
“Umm.” Desi twisted and strained in an effort to meet the mistress’s gaze. She had this wavering look in her eyes as if she were silently pleading for something that only she and the P.E. teacher from hell were privy to. Something more than let go of my nipples please before you pull them off.
The mistress returned Desi’s gaze and gave her a barely perceptible nod. I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on here or what I had just witnessed with their little non-verbal exchange, but I quickly figured it out as Desi slipped a hand between her legs and gave birth to three round black objects. Each of them was coated with a good helping of sticky Desi-juice — squash balls from the looks of them.
I snickered a little. “You got your racket in there too?”
In a span of a half second I watched Desi’s face turn three different shades of crimson. “Not a word of this to anybody, Karin. We played three matches this morning. And as you can probably guess, I lost every one.”
“Thank goodness for kegel exercises, huh Des?”
“Shut up, Karin.”
I couldn’t stop grinning. This was classic. Desi carrying a squash ball inside her for every lost match. I wondered briefly if there was one inserted after each lost game or if all three went in simultaneously at the end of the series. Boy, if it was one at a time I can’t even imagine what that would do to a girl’s concentration on the court.
“You sure you didn’t lose on purpose, Des?”
“Shut up, Karin.”
Apparently Mistress Nguyen had heard enough of our banter and was ready to move on to some serious bumping about. She deftly moved her hand between Desi’s shoulder blades and pressed forward until I had a good view of the top of Desi’s head and her cute little crimson visage now framed nicely by my wide-spread thighs. The mistress grinned from ear to ear before winding up to take a swat at Desi’s ass that came down hard enough to echo about the room and had to leave what I imagined was a handprint as bright as Desi’s face.
“Helps take her mind off the shock of me splitting her open,” she said as she tightened the straps on that oversized toy hanging between Ankara escort bayan her thighs. “I just love a heart-shaped ass, don’t you Karin?”
Desi let out an oomph and fell forward. Fortunately for Desi, my pussy was right there to catch her face. I settled my hand on top of her head and lovingly stroked her hair as she bounced around and gently lapped at my folds. I was still sore from last night’s experiments in Doctor Moreau’s laboratory — and yes, I did say it as lah-BORE-ih-tory in my mind — but Desi was kind as always and I soon lost myself in the sensations being bestowed upon me by her velvety tongue. She didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to get me off, so I decided to just lie back and enjoy.
My session with Carly’s thumbs had taught me the value of zen-like patience. Though every once in a while my pleasure was piqued by Desi’s face slamming forward into my pussy as she grunted under the force of Mistress Nguyen’s occasional powerhouse thrust — the thrusts that I decided were most definitely driving that strap-on appendage deep inside Desi’s anal cavity. I couldn’t see to be one-hundred percent sure, but Desi’s face held this kind of screwed up contortion of masochistic pleasure, plus I kind of figured that after holding three squash balls for I don’t know how long, Desi’s pussy might not be as tight as the mistress’s tastes demanded.
I snickered a little as I thought about the two of them on the squash court. I wondered if anyone in our little group of girls had witnessed it or if they had all been too busy dutifully performing their daily calisthenics ritual to take notice. I imagined Mistress Nguyen offering up a wicked serve, because that’s just the way she operated as far as I could tell — intensity, intensity, intensity. Poor Desi bounding over to catch it with the tip of her racket while at the same time struggling to keep the one or two balls clutched up inside her from dropping onto the court with a wet squishy smack.
I don’t think I could have done it, but then of course squash has never really been my thing. The damn ball never bounces as high as I think it ought to, not like a civilized ball, like a tennis ball. In fact, I fucking hate squash. I bet that’s why they have squash courts here at The Academy — it’s just one more way to put a subtle mind-fuck over on us girls.
But while I was busy thinking about mind-fucking, Mistress Nguyen was concentrating on an actual fucking — a fucking that was making Desi’s lose her own concentration as she panted and her eyes began to roll up into her head. Stay with me Des, I need your tongue baby.
She couldn’t hear my thoughts, but she did perk up a little as I stroked her hair. I wasn’t about to grab onto her head and steer her tongue where I needed it — I didn’t want to be that kind of girlfriend — and it looked like she had enough going on as it was. So I just kind of settled back and focused my mind on the licks I was getting. I imagined Desi was using her tongue like Carly used her thumbs, and that she wouldn’t leave me in a lurch, but that she would get to me when she was had the time. So I watched the show and waited for my turn.
While I was in my semi-lucid state, somewhere between the fantasy of erupting in orgasm and the reality of being right on the edge for entirely too long, I happened to catch Mistress Nguyen’s eye. Or maybe she caught mine. Now that I think of it, I don’t believe that there is anything in the universe that happens without Mistress Nguyen wishing it so — at least not in Desi’s little universe, and certainly not in mine at this very moment. So yeah, Mistress Nguyen caught my eye. She caught my eye and she blew me a kiss.
I smiled. I knew she was probably just teasing me, but on some level I like to think that there was maybe just a little bit of sincerity in it, that she was expressing her mutual enjoyment of Desi’s treasures with me and that it somehow bonded us together with a common thread. So I smiled back. And then I licked my lips as seductively as I could manage while Desi licked my lips as seductively as she could manage and the mistress fucked my girlfriend as … well, it almost came full circle, but not quite. Desi got fucked hard while she did her best to take my pussy to greater and greater heights, and what did I do? I made goo-goo eyes at the wicked P.E. teacher impaling her. Some friend I am, huh?
But deep down I envied Desi, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious to trade places with her. Yes she was getting fucked into oblivion by way of the back door, but she looked pretty damn happy about it. Sweaty and on the verge of collapse, but generally happy. And as soon as I stopped thinking so much about myself and my own desire to get off I started to figure out why. Mistress Nguyen wasn’t just busying herself with teasing me by blowing kisses, she was also extremely attentive to Desi.
I watched her trailing fingertips over my girlfriend’s back and hips, Escort Ankara and though she was giving that girl a thorough fucking, there was a gentleness about it. She was expending as much effort tuning into Desi’s needs as she was expending to needle me with comments. And that’s when I changed tack and decided that maybe it should be all about Desi at this moment. After all she was the one doing the giving, the mistress and I we were just receiving — receiving pleasure from Desi’s willingness to let us have our way with her — and I figured it might not hurt me to show a little bit of fucking gratitude.
“Desi baby,” I whispered. “Desi, I love you.”
Yeah, I dropped the L-word, so sue me. Because at that moment it was crystal clear that I did indeed love Desi. Not just because of the pleasures her tongue was bringing to me with lick after glorious lick, but because I really did care for her. We’d been through a lot together, and she was always right there by my side.
“I love you Desi, did you hear me? I love you.”
Desi raised her head from between my thighs. Her head was lolling around as Mistress Nguyen was absolutely pounding the stuffing out of her from behind. Desi’s mouth was all twisted for a second and then she gaped like a fish out of water. “Shut up Karin,” she heaved. “Co — come — comiiing … Yes! Oh, yes! Oh, definitely coming! Oh, shit yes!”
“Des?”
I watched Mistress Nguyen bury herself to the hilt then reach up to Desi’s shoulders and run long strokes of her finger tips up and down over her hot sweaty skin. I cradled Desi’s head in my lap and stroked her sticky perspiration-soaked hair. I stopped thinking about my needs for the moment. It was far more satisfying to watch the smile that was shaping up to be nearly a mile wide as it spread over Desi’s face.
And when she collapsed into an exhausted heap and Mistress Nguyen lay down beside her, spooning her, and a twinkle in Desi’s eye joined in with the big stupid grin — and Rick Springfield. Yeah Rick was in there too, but only in my mind, and the blame for that lies entirely with my mother and her habit of singing along to the oldies station whenever we were together in the car. Apparently Rick lost his girlfriend to this guy named Jessie, either that or Rick never even had a girlfriend to start with, but any way you look at it Rick wanted Jessie’s girl and he just wouldn’t shut up about it for something like three and a half minutes.
That’s kind of the way I felt for the next three and a half minutes as Mistress Nguyen and I looked at each other over the top of Desi’s sweaty hair as we all lay in another one of The Academy’s famous Desi sandwiches. But who was Jessie’s girl? Who did I want, Desi or satan’s spawn of a P.E. teacher? I shuddered to think that it might be the latter.
Poor Desi was a useless heap of worn out flesh after that marathon reaming she got from Mistress Nguyen, and I watched her lying there, trying but mostly failing to keep her heavy eyelids open. Personally I would have been making a bee-line for the bathroom to make sure my insides were still intact and that everything was still functioning as it should — up was up and down was down and all that — but not Desi. Desi decided to take a nap.
Maybe that’s one of the advantages to having a great-looking heart-shaped ass like hers, maybe it holds up extremely well under enthusiastic P.E. teacher fuckings, I don’t know. But the girl was definitely out like the proverbial light, and that left me with Mistress Nguyen and a long awkward silence hanging between us. I wondered briefly if Rick Springfield was giving a command performance inside her head as well, and then decided probably not — she’d probably scare the shit out of ole Rick. I stroked Desi’s hair lovingly a few more times before I couldn’t stand the silence anymore.
“Mistress Nguyen?” I said. “What did you mean when you said Doctor Moreau had plans for me? What does she want with me?”
“Beats me, Honey. You’ll have to ask her.”
“Um, when?”
“Whenever she’s ready for you I suppose.”
That helps. Thanks a lot oh great swami, your insight is fucking amazing.
I looked down at Desi, and the childlike peace that had settled across her face now that she’d been thoroughly fucked. I’ve seen babies that looked more uptight when they’re sleeping that this girl did. So I snuggled up closer to her and touched my fingers to her cute little rosy cheek. And when I did Desi actually sighed in her sleep, it was so adorable.
“Did you mean what you said earlier?” Mistress Nguyen asked.
“What?”
“That you love her.”
“Yeah.” I turned to face the wicked P.E. teacher, intending to give her my best look of indignation, a look that said, Yes satan’s spawn I do love her and just what do you think that you have that can top that? But I didn’t. Mistress Nguyen’s wavering eyes put an end to that thought rather quickly. If I didn’t know better …
“So do I,” Mistress Nguyen said.
What the fuck? I thought it, but I didn’t get a chance to utter the words, because Mistress Nguyen leaned in to kiss Desi on the forehead and then without another word, she made for the door.