Risk Versus Reward Ch. 11

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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 last chapter, Karin and Desi had decided to take it easy after their rough night at the hands of a pair of mysterious masked visitors. They ended up having a lesson in body painting with the lovely and flowy Miss Smith, and lunch in the garden with their favorite lab-coat assistant Elena. Elena provides some insight that may help Karin and Desi their masked visitors. Karin has her hopes pinned on a certain domme, but how will she hold up to the image Karin has built up in her head?

I hope you enjoy Karin’s continuing story.

WaxPhilosophic

* * * *

Chapter 11: What’s New Pussy Cat?

Cats have a good life, at least I’ve always thought so. I mean way back in Egyptian times they were practically worshiped as deities, and the Egyptians weren’t the only ones either. The Chinese had Li Shou, the cat god who protected farmers’ crops, and in Poland, Ovinnik watched over domestic animals and chased away evil spirits — and as a result the cats were well taken care of. I could totally go for that. Hell a couple weeks ago I got to stick my face in Elena’s pussy after Desi painted me up like a kitty, so the idea obviously has some merit.

Yep, it’s the kitty-cat life for me alright. Chase off a few evil spirits and suddenly you’re sitting on a pedestal, enjoying the good life. So it really shouldn’t be surprising to anyone that I decided to put on a cat ear headband and stick a matching tail up my butt for the first day of my internship. See, the main reason for my internship was to show myself off to potential dominants and really, who can say no to a cute little kitten?

The fact that outside of the ears and the furry butt-plug tail I wore nothing else but a smile seemed to fit right in with the dress code of the place, though I knew that when I applied. Figuring out who’s who is easy in a place like this. The dominants were sitting at the bar or at one of the tables, either alone or in groups depending on their mood, and always fully clothed. These women in tailored suits and designer dresses, they were the ones here sizing up the dating pool. And the naked young women providing drinks and entertainment — sometimes quiet conversation, sometimes something a little more physical — we were sizing up the dating pool too.

I wanted to find the woman who would appreciate the way I could chase off her demons with a little wine, or a nice warm bath, or a well-timed orgasm — just the way that submissive girl had done in the orientation video. If I could do that, I’d be destined to live like a goddess. Granted a goddess with furry ears and a tail held in with a butt plug, but a goddess nonetheless. So I took my job very seriously. When these women asked me to fetch a glass of wine I did it, and when they asked me to sit on their laps for a little conversation I did that too, even when that conversation involved a fair amount of groping — especially when it involved a fair amount of groping.

I quickly found that I really enjoyed all the attention I received and looked forward to my evenings in the club with fondness. I even got to see Desi occasionally when our schedules overlapped, and those nights were always ripe for a good time. Word of our adventurous and playful nature had spread beyond the confines of The Academy proper and we were often sought out as a couple to put on a performance either on stage or in one of the more private rooms in the back that were reserved for faculty and VIPs. I always looked forward to those performances, because I figured that’s where I’d have the best chance of meeting up with my own goddess, Miss Spiced Latte. Plus Desi had absolutely the best hands.

Unfortunately spending a lot of time at the club also meant that I really only saw Elena for waxing treatments and the occasional lunchtime rendezvous in the garden. But every time we were together it seemed like she made sure there was a happy ending involved — every time with one notable exception. That was the visit to the spa when I held Desi’s hand and watched Elena take what looked to me like the biggest, scariest piercing needle I’ve ever seen and push it straight through Desi’s left nipple. Desi didn’t look to thrilled about it as the needle was going in, and she nearly broke my fingers squeezing me so tight, but in the end she did say that she was glad she did it and even happier that it was Elena with the needle and not somebody else. She even kissed Elena on the cheek and then thanked me for coming along once she recovered enough to stand on her own two feet again.

After ataşehir escort the horror show was over I asked Desi what made her decide to put a hole through her womanly flesh, because I had been advised that I wasn’t allowed to play with it or suck on it or do anything else fun with it until it was healed and I wanted to know who it was that had the nerve to take away half of my usual evening entertainment.

“I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count,” Desi said in a sarcastic little tone that I could only forgive because I knew she was struggling with what probably amounted to a great deal of discomfort.

“The P.E. teacher from hell, Miss Nguyen?”

Desi nodded.

I rolled my eyes. “But all she ever does is torment you, Des. You really want to invite more of that?”

“It’s just a mask she puts on. At home Betty is just the sweetest woman you could ever imagine. I think all she wants to do is feed me. Oh, that and fuck me ’til I can’t see straight.”

“At home? Jeez, you’ve been to her lair, Des?” I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes again. “And since when are you two on a first name basis anyway?”

“Relax will you? It’s not like I’m moving in with her, it was just dinner.” Desi had this sort of dreamy look in her eyes. “Betty makes the best bánh xèo I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

“You’re getting your nipple run through and risking a life of incontinence, and for what? A dinner of Vietnamese crepes? What’s for dessert, squat thrusts on her strap-on?”

“Really good Vietnamese crepes, Karin.” That dreamy look in Desi’s eyes was getting worse by the minute. And she totally ignored my squat-thrust jab.

I had a feeling that Desi’s newfound love of dinner crepes was just barely concealed subtext for her real craving, which I was beginning to understand as a big heaping helping of Mistress Nguyen’s dildo in her ass. And that ring in Desi’s nipple, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find out that too was a gift from the sadistic P.E. teacher, the Academy equivalent of giving a class ring to your best girl. God, I hope the she-devil had the courtesy to sterilize it after she ripped it out of the tender flesh of her last conquest.

I was only slightly jealous. I was the cute little kitty cat, I was the one that these ladies were supposed to be dying to take home.

* * *

I had a pretty good run at the club — lots of lap sitting and inappropriate touching with all sorts of beautiful women night after night — and then one day out of the blue it all dried up. I still fetched drinks now and then and of course the Karin and Desi show was still on whenever our schedules overlapped, but it really seemed like Desi was getting all the action these days.

That surprised me, not because I thought I was cuter than Desi, but I did feel like I was putting in more effort. If anything my kitty-cat costume was getting progressively better. First, I had this diamond-studded collar that fit my neck just perfectly. Second, were the little bells that I had clamped to my nipples. I bought the bells myself from an online kink retailer in hopes of attracting more attention, but the collar — the collar was a gift. It came with a mysterious letter, beautifully hand-written, that deep in my heart I really hoped had been penned by my equally mysterious Miss Spiced Latte.

Miss Spiced Latte had a name, I knew that now. Elena had spoken to Carly — the really good masseuse with the thumbs, yeah that Carly — and it turns out that Carly had massaged my mysterious Miss Spiced Latte a time or two during her tenure in the lab coat brigade. I wonder if she got the thumbs?

Well, if Carly’s information was accurate and nothing got lost in translation, it turns out that my secret admirer is none other than the founder of The Academy, Doctor Tina Moreau herself. And if that were the case, I had definitely hit the submissive dating pool jackpot. I couldn’t think of anyone sexier or more self-assured than the woman who had calmly sized me up in that buffet line and told me I had chutzpa. The same woman whose crotch I couldn’t seem to keep my face out of. The same woman who had visited me in the middle of the night to express her displeasure at being left unsatisfied. I was sure this was the woman who had left the collar and the letter for me. The only problem was I hadn’t seen her or gotten any more letters since.

She’s probably just very busy, I told myself, she’s got the school to run and everything. It was so much better than the competing thought that kept trying to push its way into my head, the thought that said I was nothing more than a plaything for Doctor Moreau and that she was having a grand time just toying with me. These moments of self-doubt kept plaguing me until the one night that I actually met her. Well, met is probably a strong word. It was more like I had been summoned by her.

The club hostess for the evening, the girl who’s in charge of greeting kadıköy escort the guests and finding them a table to their liking, she came over to me and said she had gotten a special request from a patron to see me. I remember being surprised that it was just me, because usually it’s the Karin and Desi show that the clientele is interested in and not so much me alone, and particularly lately. So seeing that I wasn’t particularly busy sitting on anybody’s lap at the moment, I followed the hostess to one of the private rooms in the back. It was unusually dark and kind of spooky — not like slasher movie spooky, but more of a clandestine spy meeting kind of spooky — sketchy I guess is the word. My eyes still hadn’t adjusted when the hostess left and I could only make out the vaguest shadows.

I felt my shoulders begin to tense up a little in the moments of silence that followed, and I wondered if I had been wrong and maybe this was turning into a slasher movie after all. But the longer I stood there naked and shivering with my senses in overdrive, I began to pick up the lingering trace of a scent, and that scent was none other than spiced latte. So when she finally spoke and I was sure that it was her, the goddess of my desire, and I felt I could relax a bit and expel the breath I was holding.

“Come and sit with me, Kitten,” she said.

I nearly fainted dead away when I heard her call me kitten. My plan had worked — the sexy cat ears, the butt plug tail, these damnable bells pinching my poor tits — it had all succeeded in getting the attention of a woman from the dominant dating pool. And what a catch she was — the founder of The Academy herself was interested in me. I had to take a couple of deep breaths and I was seriously tempted to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t in the middle of a really good dream or something.

“Sit with your back toward me, show me your best posture, and keep your hands on your thighs unless I tell you otherwise. Understood?” Doctor Moreau said. I was sure it was her now.

“Yes Miss,” I said. I lowered myself onto her lap in that dimly lit room, keeping my back ramrod straight and flattened my palms out on my thighs just as she had asked. I felt the plug pressing a little deeper as my weight was settled onto my tail.

“Very good, Kitten,” she whispered.

And for whatever reason — maybe it was the praise, or maybe it was her warm breath tickling my neck and mingling with that intoxicating perfume that she wore — whatever it was, I shuddered quite suddenly and quite violently. My spasms caused the bells hanging from my nipples to jingle and that had the effect of causing my sweet-smelling goddess to snicker slightly.

“I like your bells, Kitten,” she said. Doctor Moreau’s hands were on me now, resting on my knees before starting their journey. She began by trailing her fingers lightly over my thighs, purposely trying to tickle my flesh I’m sure of it. Her slow teasing movements caused my thighs to break out in gooseflesh and my nipples to harden, painfully fighting against the bite of the clamps holding the bells in place. She reached a particularly tender spot along the inside of my thighs — thighs that I had shamelessly spread wide as I arched my back and leaned my head on her shoulder — and her touching of that tender spot caused a shudder to run the length of me. And of course that set the bells ringing anew and elicited another snicker from the lovely doctor.

My breathing stopped momentarily as she moved her fingers slowly over my quivering stomach until her hands settled just under the bells to cup my breasts, and only came out in a long ragged sigh as she squeezed me in her hands. She was not particularly gentle, but I wasn’t in the frame of mind to actually care.

“Lovely Kitten,” she cooed as I melted into her, “such cruel toys you choose to play with.”

Not as cruel as that big fucking thing you had up inside me, I wanted to say, but all I did was moan and squirm. Part of that was because I always get a little twinge of happiness down below whenever I shifted my weight on the tail pressing into my ass, and part of it was because my goddess Doctor Tina Moreau was tugging rather ruthlessly on one of my bells at the moment. It was the one attached to my right nipple, my poor stretched out right nipple. Oh my goodness, she’s going to pull it off! But before it ripped loose she relaxed her grip and my flesh was no longer so distended. I let out a shuddering sigh.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” She was busy tugging and stretching my left nipple now and I had to bite my lip for a moment to avoid crying out.

“The bells, Miss?” I squirmed, slightly concerned that my freely flowing pussy might be leaving a stain on her pants. It bothered me a little that her torments could set off such strong feelings of absolutely shameless desire in me.

“Yes Kitten.” She relaxed her grip and after a second I could think clearly again. bostancı escort bayan “Tell me about the bells. How long have you been wearing them?”

“Tonight Miss? Since I started working, about an hour ago.”

“Oh, poor Kitten.” She was batting the bells around with her hands while I pressed into her and began pushing my body upward to escape the torment. She even flicked at them with her finger and thumb, making the bells ring as she did, and making me twitch a little each time. The ringing and my convulsions seemed to amuse her even more.

“If you think this is bad,” she whispered. “They’re going to be absolutely excruciating when I take them off.”

I said nothing, but I knew she spoke the truth. Every time I removed them at the end of the night and the blood-flow returned to my tender flesh, my nipples would throb for hours afterward. And right now I was getting a rather intense reminder of that feeling since the good doctor had her fingers wrapped around the spring-loaded clamp and was squeezing it gently. It wasn’t enough to let the bell come off completely, just enough to let the blood start flowing again and when that happened my nerves began singing in a chorus of sharp pain. The feeling would have been almost too much to bear if it had not been expertly tempered by Doctor Moreau’s fingers skillfully moving inside me at the same time. I shuddered violently and bore down on her first two, then three fingers as she alternated squeezing and releasing the clamp.

“If I had to guess Kitten, I’d say you like the bells as much as I do.” Her warm breath tickled my neck again as she spoke.

“Mmm, yesh,” I managed.

She had moved her fingers up to my mouth now, making it difficult to talk and worse yet leaving my poor pussy clenching at nothing but air. I writhed on her lap, probably leaving a trail of my juices all over the leg of her suit pants as I was grinding in what was turning out to be a vain attempt to find some stimulation. And I have to say that having my own taste in my mouth was doing absolutely nothing to calm me down and I lapped and sucked eagerly at each and every one of Doctor Moreau’s fingers. And all the time she just chuckled, seemingly quite amused by the wantonness she had set off inside me.

“I want to hear these bells ringing, Kitten. Make them ring.”

“Yes Miss.” I did the only thing I could think of and I shook my shoulders, my entire upper body really, causing my tits to jiggle and setting off a peal of bells at the same time. The tugging on my nipples was sharp now and then, but all in all actually quite enjoyable as the bells bounced around, slapping at my skin. I moaned and shifted my hips, trying again to find some stimulation for my poor empty pussy.

My little shimmy shake seemed to please my sole patron for the evening as well. She still hadn’t gotten her fingers back to work on me yet, but it felt nice to rub my tail on her thigh and feel the plug shift inside me as I did. Plus I was still hopeful she’d take care of me because she had both hands resting on my hips now, rocking me gently back and forth as I quivered and moaned, hoping to give her a little encouragement.

“Such a naughty little kitty you are,” she whispered.

“Mmm, yes Miss.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. And I suppose I was a bit of a naughty kitty since I was shamelessly trying to rub myself on the leg of her pants in search of the orgasm that had been building in core since the moment I sat on her lap. And now that orgasm seemed like it would remain just over the horizon with her fingers nowhere near where I wanted them to be.

Doctor Moreau had moved her hands so that she was cupping my buttocks now, lifting and pushing me until I was afraid I would lose my balance and tumble to the floor in a heap. I moaned at my misfortune, but that seemed to serve only in amusing her further.

“Hands out, and quickly,” Doctor Moreau said as she gave me a shove and I wound up falling forward with my weight shifted mostly to my outstretched hands while she continued hanging onto my hips in order to stop me from very ungracefully landing on my noggin.

I felt a tugging again, but this time instead of playing with my nipple bells Doctor Moreau was yanking on my kitty-cat tail and like her interaction with my bells, she did not seem to be particularly concerned with my comfort. She seemed much more amused by the way the plug was opening me up every time she tugged. I could only imagine how stretched I must have been as she insisted upon pulling it until the widest part was just about to peek out, and then letting go to allow my contractions to pull the thing firmly back into place. At least she had the courtesy to slide a couple fingers back in my pussy, I thought as I shuddered and tried desperately not to collapse head first onto the floor. She was rubbing rather vigorously now.

“I think you’re almost ready, Kitten.” Doctor Moreau had long ago found that magic button inside me and had been ruthlessly exploiting it, causing me to gush in anticipation of the big one that I felt building.

Yes, please, I thought.

And then she stopped.

I squirmed and shivered. “Ungh. Why did you stop?” I demanded.

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