The Accidental Recruit

Author's Note

If you've read Risk Versus Reward, you know about Betty and her girls Karin and Desi. And you know about their business that trains submissive girls to be matched with their dommes. But in all that kinky fun, you might have forgotten what wonderful human beings they are. This story is a pleasant reminder.

The Accidental Recruit

Desi

"Is it Thursday already?" asked Karin, as she stepped up to kiss me, first on the cheek, then on my neck. She finished up with a little swirl of her tongue before stepping back to take me all in from head to toe.

"Wha--?" I replied. I was still gathering my composure in the wake of her tongue.

"Thursday." Karin touched her index finger to the strap of my backpack, as she sent her eyes crawling over my body. "You have class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, don't you? Isn't today Wednesday, or am I losing my mind?"

I shook my head. "It's still Wednesday. I'm just meeting a friend on campus."

"Oh," said Karin. She touched her hand to my shoulder and gave a little push, encouraging me to turn a one-eighty for her as she lifted the back of my flannel. "Your ass looks so fine in those jeans, baby."

I snickered. "Don't start anything. You're going to make me late."

Karin laid her hands on my hips and was tracing the curve of my backside. I felt her lips touching down on the back of my neck. "Text your friend and tell her you're going to be a few minutes," she said, grinning. "Maybe more than a few."

I squirmed for a couple seconds, enjoying Karin's hands on me, and then moved forward just out of her reach. "I don't have her number. Not yet."

Karin stepped around in front of me again. She looked me up and down one more time, from my canvas high tops, to my ripped jeans, to the plaid flannel tied around my waist. She got as far as the middle of my black Tee when she paused to touch the outline of my nipple ring. "This is a recruiting job, isn't it? How's it going? My calendar's up to date if you need to schedule an interview."

"It's not recruiting," I said, shifting my stance to press my boob tighter against her finger. "She's just a friend."

Karin circled my nipple. "But you don't have her number to text her..."

"Baby," I said. "She's in a bit of a bad way. I just want to check in on her is all."

Karin took her hand off my tit and stepped in to hug me, at least as well as she could around the backpack. "You've got a good heart, Desi," she whispered. "See you when you get back."

"Karin," I said, and waited until I had her attention before pulling up my shirt on the left side to show her the nipple ring she'd just been playing with. "You going to miss me while I'm gone?"

"Baby," she heaved, as I spun on my heel and walked toward the door.

Nadia

I turned the key to unlock the front door and walked into the apartment. I don't know if it was the musky stench of sex that hit me first or the fact that she was just walking out of our bedroom with my recent ex standing shirtless behind her.

"You could have..." I started, and then swallowed my remaining words. I didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

My ex just shrugged. "You've been sleeping on the couch, so I figured..."

"Whatever." I walked down the hall to the bathroom and closed the door. I sat on the toilet and cried.

Desi

I stepped off the blue line bus and hoofed it at a good pace. I didn't want to miss Nadia.

Karin was right, I didn't know her that well. Just a name and a sad story. I didn't even have her phone number. We just sort of bumped into each other outside the McDonald's on Harrison where we both decided to stop for coffee.

I hoped my timing was right and a lot of other things, too. That her coffee habit was regular. That I hadn't missed her. That she might remember me from yesterday.

"Desi?" I heard, and turned around. "I thought that was you."

"Hey, Nadia. Yeah, wow. We meet again, huh?" I hoped she wouldn't see through my manufactured coincidence. "Another iced coffee?"

"Actually, I was thinking Frappé. I feel like I kind of need some whipped cream and caramel, you know?"

I nodded. "After you," I said, sweeping my hand toward the entrance.

We exited five minutes later with cups in hand and an explanation for Nadia's need for a little caramel and whipped cream distraction this morning.

"Thanks for paying," she said. "You didn't have to do that."

"Well, you deserve to have something nice happen today," I said. "What an asshole."

"I know, right. She was just leaving."

"You should slash his tires," I said.

Nadia looked horrified.

"Or at least let the air out of them. I mean, shit."

"It's fine, Desi," she said.

"It's not fine, Nadia," I replied. "Send me a picture of his car and tell me where it's parked. I'll slash his tires for you. What a fucking douche canoe."

Nadia snickered a little at my colorful assessment of her ex and my plans to avenge her honor. But I was serious. I'd be there in a heartbeat. If there's anything I've learned over the years, it's us girls need to stick together.

I pulled out my phone. "Here," I said, "Let me give you my number."

Nadia hesitated for a second.

"I promise I won't slash any tires... unless you want me to."

That got me another chuckle, and Nadia pulled out her phone.

Nadia

I read somewhere that introverts don't make friends. Some extrovert just happens along and adopts them. I feel like that's what happened with me and Desi. I just ran into her yesterday and now, here we were, exchanging numbers.

I still wasn't sure if she was serious about slashing the tires on my ex's car, but it was a nice gesture and honestly one of the few bright spots on my day.

Kind of sad when a random stranger is nicer than the guy I upended my college plans for. I switched schools, because he loved me so much he couldn't bear to do the long distance relationship thing.

I understand now what he meant. He didn't want to give up regular access to some pussy until he found a suitable replacement. I thought back to my conversation with Desi. What had she called him? A douche canoe?

As I stood with my key in the lock, hesitating to turn it for fear of what or who I would find when I walked in, and I decided douche canoe was a fitting name.

Desi

"What a fucking douche canoe," said Karin.

"I know, that's what I said."

Karin helped me shrug off my backpack and wrapped me up in her arms. "You've got a good heart, baby. And if you need some help slashing those tires, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, baby."

"Who's getting their tires slashed," asked Betty, stepping down the hall from her office with a coffee cup in her hand.

I reviewed the highlights Nadia's story.

"What a douche canoe," exclaimed Betty when I was finished.

"I know, right?" Karin and I said it at the same time.

"I know it might be a little cringy with the timing and all," said Betty, "but business is good, and if she needs a little cash to get out into a place of her own, we're always hiring."

"I was kind of thinking I'd start with Miss Chowdhury's catering or maybe Carly & Elena need a part time waxing technician," I said. "Karin's right, I don't know that much about her. I don't even know if she likes girls."

"Everybody likes girls, Des," said Karin, walking around behind me to run her tongue around the outside of my ear. "Need a reminder as to why?"

"Baby," I shivered. "After we pick up some employment applications, okay? Then I promise you can do whatever you want with that tongue."

Karin grinned. "We can split up," she said, "I'll go down to Miss Chowdhury's."

"You just want her to feel you up," I said.

"She smells like cookies, Des."

I hauled off and smacked Karin on the ass.

Nadia

I sat on the edge of a planter outside. I didn't wait for Desi before I got my coffee. Not that she was late, I was early. I just had to get out of the apartment. He brought her home again and I couldn't stand it anymore. I sat staring at The Pussy Cat Club application on my phone.

"Hey, babe!" Desi hollered, smiling as she approached. She took one look at my face and her smile evaporated.

"Does he hit you?" she asked, hunching over me. "Because if he does, he's getting more than his tires slashed."

I shook my head. Desi draped her hand over my shoulder and sat down beside me. "I'm serious," she said.

"Thanks, Desi," I said. "He's not abusive. Just a... a..."

"Douche canoe," she finished for me. I almost smiled.

Desi shrugged off her backpack and dug around inside. She pulled out two paper forms.

"I know," she said, handing me the two pieces of paper, "dead tree edition. Totally old school. But they'd both be really good places to work."

I looked over the applications Desi handed me. Leibovich & Roselli Massage and Aroma Therapy. Chowdhury's Cakes and Catering.

"I don't know, Desi," I said, "I don't have any experience in food prep or massage therapy or anything like that."

"Maybe they have an opening for somebody to answer phones," Desi suggested. "Anything to get you out of your lease and into your own place. You need a couple bucks to get you by?"

"Desi," I said. "Please. You don't have to do that."

"And you shouldn't have to put up with the douche canoe."

I felt my mouth turning up at the corners. It happened every time Desi said douche canoe.

"I had another idea." I probably turned three shades of crimson as I said it, and fourth shade as I unlocked the screen on my phone.

"Pussy Cat Club?" said Desi, matter-of-factly.

"It's good money," I offered. "If they'll hire me."

"Why wouldn't they?"

"My ancestry makes me kind of hairy," I said, holding out my arm to show her. "And I've got a big nose and because my skin is--"

Desi cut me off mid-sentence. "Gorgeous?" she said. "Because if that's not what you were going to say next, I think you've been hanging around douche canoe too much. Have you looked in a mirror lately, babe?"

I laughed out loud. For the first time in how many days, I don't know, but I laughed. Every time Desi said douche canoe. And she basically just told me she thought I was pretty.

"You like girls, Nadia?" she asked.

"Um..."

"When's your next class? I want to take you for lunch."

"Not till two."

"Come on," Desi said, grabbing my hand.

I wasn't sure what she meant about liking girls, if maybe she meant liking her as a girl or it was just a general question, but I pushed it aside and walked along holding her hand anyway.

Desi

"Pussy Cat Club's a lesbian club, right?"

I watched Nadia's head nodding, but that's all I got for an answer. I stopped my inquisition as soon as the blue line bus arrived and just clutched her hand in mine to board.

Nadia didn't seem shocked by my grabbing her hand, so I kept hold of it all through out the ride, until we transferred to the light rail, and as we walked toward the building where I started my morning. I filled her in on some the details of lunch as we approached.

"Chowdhury's Catering is in the same building where I work," I said.

"But, I don't have any experience in food service," she replied.

"No, not for an application. For lunch."

Nadia slowed the pace of her walking and looked at me sideways.

"You know sample day at the grocery store?" I asked. "How you can just cruise the aisles and pretty much get a free lunch?"

Nadia smiled and nodded. I got the feeling she'd done that trick a time or two. Nearly every college student had.

"The catering business is like that, except ten times better," I said. "They have lots of trainees, so they're always making a ton of food. There's something good to eat nearly everyday."

"Sounds yum," she offered.

"I do have to warn you about a couple things though."

"Okay..."

"One. Miss Chowdhury is very touchy-feely. If you don't want her groping your assets, I'd suggest standing behind me so I can take the brunt of it."

"Um..."

"Two. The trainees are all girls and they're all naked."

Nadia came to a dead stop and stood with her mouth gaping.

"It's on the up and up. Their sanitation certificate is current."

"They're naked?"

"Mm-hmm. You said you liked girls, didn't you? Think of it as a preview of The Pussy Cat Club."

"Um..."

"Free lunch," I said and tugged her hand.

Nadia

"She smells like cookies," I whispered to Desi, as soon as Miss Chowdhury was out of earshot. "And she grabbed my ass."

"You've got a little of her lipstick on your cheek, too," Desi said, and I reached up to wipe with the back of my hand.

"Other side," she said, grinning.

"They're ready," said Miss Chowdhury, gliding back over to where we stood. "Come with me, please."

I felt Miss Chowdhury's hand snaking around my waist. But I didn't get more than a few seconds to think about it, because as she led us through the big commercial kitchen, I got distracted by the jiggling breasts and hairless mounds of what I assumed were the trainees Desi mentioned.

Nobody seemed to give us a second glance. The girls were all too busy chopping, slicing, or otherwise preparing something in front of them.

Miss Chowdhury escorted Desi and me as far as the doorway to a private dining room in the back before hustling over to check on the trainees. I couldn't help but notice several of them got their asses fondled, too.

"Desi? What is this place?"

"Chowdhury's Catering," she said. "Technically, Chowdhury's Cakes and Catering. If you think the food is good, wait till you have a slice of tiramisu or tres leches."

"Um... I mean, the naked girls."

"Come on," she said, grabbing me by the hand. "I'll explain while we eat."

Desi pulled me along into the subdued lighting of the private dining room. Gone was the noise of the kitchen. The only sound was the clatter of two places being set, one at the head of the table and on to the side. The girl setting out the plates didn't have a stitch on her.

"Desi," I whispered, nudging her under the table. "Why are they naked?"

"They're trainees," she whispered in reply, and wrapped her hand up with mine.

"For what?"

"The submissive program. And you needn't whisper. It's not a secret."

"Not a secret?" I continued whispering anyway. This was all too surreal.

"Yeah, I work upstairs. We recruit the submissive girls who need--"

"Oh, my God," I said, jerking my hand away from hers. "Are you grooming me? Kidnapping me? Turning me into a sex slave?"

"What?" she said. Desi seemed genuinely surprised by my question, but this was all too weird.

"Nadia. Oh, no, no, no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I just figured with The Pussy Cat Club application..."

I drilled my gaze into hers. My pulse was pounding in my temples.

"If you want to eat somewhere else, we can," she said. "Or if you just want me to walk you back to the train... I'm sorry."

We were interrupted by the sudden presence of a naked girl standing between us with her head bowed.

Desi

Well that was stupid of me, I thought. Sometimes I forget not everyone is as kinky as me and my little circle of family and friends.

"Nadia, I'm sorry."

She was still wide-eyed as the young trainee chose that particular moment to grace us with, "Shall I come back later, Mistress?"

I watched Nadia mouthing the word Mistress. I didn't think it was possible for her eyes to get wider, but they did. "I should go," she said.

"I'll walk you to the--"

"I can find it myself."

And I watched Nadia walk out the door.

Nadia

"What the fuck was that?" I mumbled to myself as I rode the light rail. The entire way I eyed every passenger with suspicion, wondering how many of them might be part of this secret underground sex slave network. I'd seen shit like this on the news.

My phone buzzed. I had a feeling I knew exactly who it was before I even unlocked the screen.

D: Sorry :-(

I blocked her number.

Desi

I walked in with tears streaming down my cheeks. Karin was over in a flash, wrapping her arms around me without uttering a word.

"I fucked up, baby," I said.

"Shh..." Karin pulled me close and pressed my head to her shoulder. She touched her fingers to my hair and pushed it away from where it was sticking to my face.

I opened my eyes to Betty standing beside me with a bottle of water in one hand and a tissue in the other. She probably heard me blubbering all the way from her office.

I sniffled. Karin loosened her grip and Betty handed me the tissue. I elected to skip drying my tears and blew my nose instead.

"I'll fetch the box," said Betty, and she came back a few seconds later to press another tissue into my hand.

"I fucked up," I repeated.

Neither of them said anything. They both stood by, each of them with a gentle hand laid on my arm, and they waited.

"I fucked up and she ghosted me." I started sniffling again and the tears soon followed.

Karin and Betty led me to the couch in Betty's office and sat on either side of me.

Nadia

I sat on a bench with my phone in one hand and an empty paper coffee cup in the other. I was getting my caffeine fix from Starbucks now. It was more expensive and a little out of the way, but it was also someplace where I hoped I wouldn't run into Desi.

I was still trying to wrap my head around what I saw and heard at Chowdhury's Catering, wondering if maybe I should call the police. I pushed that thought away and turned instead to The Pussy Cat Club application beckoning on my phone.

I filled out the remainder of it and tapped submit.

Desi

I was getting seriously tired of McDonald's coffee. It wasn't a bad brew, but sitting outside by myself everyday, nursing my cup, hoping to catch a glimpse of Nadia was just another sad commentary on my sad life.

I'd been doing this for three weeks when I decided it was probably a lost cause. And then, as I was riding the blue line bus, I had a brilliant idea. At least I convinced myself it was brilliant.

I was going to visit The Pussy Cat Club.

"Hey, Karin?" I hollered as I stepped through the front door of the office. "Wanna go to a strip club?"

Betty stepped out with her finger over her lips. "She's in an interview."

"Oh," I whispered. "When's she free?"

Betty pulled out her phone and flicked her finger across the screen.

"Never mind," I said. Duh. I could check the calendar app just as easily as Betty. Why couldn't I remember that?

I flicked and scrolled. Shit. All day?

I strolled into The Pussy Cat Club with a wad of bills stuffed in my pocket, past a burly looking butch at the door, and over to the hostess stand.

"Hi," I said. "I had a lap dance with a girl the other day, I think her name was Nadia something or other. Is she working today? I just love her to bits."

Maybe that last line was a little over the top, but it got the hostess motivated to check the schedule. "She's here now," said the hostess. "If you think you'll be coming in to see her frequently, you might want to consider our VIP membership. It has several nice perks for our regular guests."

"Really?" I said.

"Yes. Extended happy hour discounts, VIP rooms, private parties, and--"

"VIP rooms," I said. "What's that?"

"A more secluded setting. Just you and the dancer. You said Nadia was your favorite?"

I nodded. "Sign me up."

"It's all electronic," she said. "Just scan this QR code and tap the button with your preferred payment method."