The Arrangment

It had been two years since Christine Andrews first saw her name on a brass plaque in the New York offices of HNF investments. She had been in charge of a lucrative hedge fund portfolio for some time and, as she predicted when she first got the job, she was almost completely uninterested.

Christine had actually made news when she was in college as a financial whiz kid after she invested her entire college loan in a high risk portfolio, when it paid off it made her a millionaire before she even graduated.

That sort of reputation gave her a fast track to the top of the investment world, but what she suspected was she had not been shrewd with her investment, she had been reckless and lucky. She hadn't decided to become a millionaire, she had gone all in on her future for the rush. Once her career had started she was moved to hedge funds, lots of individual risky investments, but collected so the risk was minimal. So she went through the movements, made friends, went to conferences and steadily accumulated a fortune, but she was desperately unfulfilled.

The solution to her ennui came one day when at one of the many management conferences she ended up at. Organised as the usual excuse to charge a five star holiday on the company buck, it had been decided that while the men had their golf tournament, the female contingent was going to hit the spa. The stress had been hitting Christine hard recently and a massage sounded like the right way forward.

Christine stripped naked, she did not do anything by halves and thus didn't want some vestigial attachment to decency to allow bra straps and panty lines to get in the way of a comprehensive rub down. She placed all her things in a locker and wrapped herself in a towel for the short walk to the parlour.

The young lady was an adequate masseuse and although Christine was relaxed no massage would have satisfied her. It wasn't until the end of the massage that things became interesting.

"So... would you be interested in a happy ending?" The masseuse whispered in Christine's ear.

"Oh, I didn't know it was that kind of spa." Christine replied shocked.

"It usually isn't, the organisers know a guy who discreetly provides our sorts of services and replaced the staff with us working girls." The masseuse chirped, rubbing her hands up and down Christine's back.

"Not really my vice I'm afraid." Christine politely declined.

"Then what is your vice? We indulge all sorts here." The masseuse responded, making Christine take some time to think.

"Used to be gambling, but when you have as much money as me it gets less interesting." Christine revealed, surprising herself with the honesty she was indulging with a woman she had met ten minutes ago.

"Some clients enjoy playing games of chance with forfeits, maybe we could play something?" Christine sat up intrigued, "how about I flip a coin? Heads I don't get a tip, tails you tip me the key to your locker" Even contemplating taking the bet was making Christine feel more excited than she had done in years. When she was young, money was tight, it was the most important resource, but now the most important thing in all her circles was esteem, the thought of walking back to her room wearing only a towel was a real risk and it made Christine giddy.

"Yes!" She answered enthusiastically. The coin was tossed high and Christine's heart fluttered as the masseuse snatched it out of the air and slowly opened her hand. Tails.

Christine blushed as she handed over her locker key, the towel was large and luxurious but hardly appropriate for a walk across a hotel. The masseuse giggled at the prospect of some high end clothes and jewellery she could sell, but as she went to leave Christine interrupted her.

"How about double or nothing?" The masseuse stopped and cocked an intrigued eyebrow. "Another flip of the coin, heads I get my locker key back and you are handsomely tipped to compensate, tails you get my towel." Christine was doing what she had always done, get a taste for something then immediately dive in with both feet. She hadn't had a thrill like this for a long time and she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to go deeper. The masseuse smiled and got her coin out again, Christine eyeing her fate hungrily. Flipping the coin high in the air, Christine's joy was so overwhelming she barely registered the coin coming up tails.

Christine heard the laughter of the masseuse echo down the hallway as she peaked around the door. The masseuse had been kind enough to let her have two things, a key to her hotel room and a business card for her boss. The spa was attached to the hotel so she at least wouldn't have to go outside, but the route back to her room was still fraught with danger. She waited until the corridor was clear and sprinted towards the spa entrance, clasping her more than ample breasts to her chest. She skipped around the door and immediately dived behind the reception desk. It wasn't until she saw a pair of feet in high heels that she realised the desk she had hidden beneath had a women sat at it.

"Shhh" she quickly indicated to the startled receptionist. "I will pay you $5000 not to tell anyone you saw me." The receptionist was about to answer when the sound of the door opening caused her to look up. Christine's heart was beating out of her chest at the thought of the new arrival.

"Evening Rachael." Came a Stern British voice. "Any of the women left the spa yet?"

"No sir," the receptionist replied, giving Christine cause to be happy.

"Great, I figured the men won't be back from golfing for a while, so now's the time to get the room cleans done. Radio to me if anyone leaves would you." The voice responded, getting fainter as it headed to the door. Christine's breathing slowed as she heard the door shut.

"It's clear. Do you want me to get you a gown?" The receptionist asked. Christine considered this, in theory the bet was just for her stuff, but at the same time it felt like asking for a gown would be welching on the spirit of the bet. She had lost and if she didn't live with the consequences she wouldn't be able to enjoy the experience in hindsight.

"No thank you," Christine stammered, hardly believing the words had left her mouth. "Just come to room 703 in an hour's time and I'll get you your money." She got out from behind the desk and began walking towards the door, catching her naked reflection in a mirrored glass panel. Her long brown hair was usually tied up around the office, so with her hair down and her body oiled up from the massage, the reflection stunned her for a second. She opened the door and began the long walk to her room.

By the time she had reached her room, Christine wasn't even trying to hide. She had promised four other shocked staff members $5000 to keep their mouths shut. Although embarrassing, the thing that made her stomach drop more was the idea of being seen by one of her co-workers. As well as drinking in the experience, Christine spent her time already thinking of how to experience this high on a recurring basis. She got to her room and immediately made a bee-line for the phone, dialling the number on the business card, eager to talk to 'Kipper the fixer'.

Kipper turned out to have a room in the hotel and once she had redressed and paid off some staff Christine was immediately there. A short man in an impeccable suit stood by a breakfast bar, clearly awaiting Christine.

"Good afternoon Kipper. I have a lucrative proposal for you." Christine immediately stated, holding her hand out for him to shake and ensuring a business-like tone for their interactions. Christine had been thinking hard on this proposal and needed to get it out of her mind and into reality.

"I just had a rather enjoyable encounter with one of your staff and was looking forward to repeating it. I'm sure you are clued into the calendar of events for the circles myself and my co-workers move in. Ahead of certain events I will request your services, you will bring me one of your working girls, one without tattoos or body piercings, long brunette hair, and a body type similar to mine. I will send ahead a program of embarrassing actions that I have planned, then you will witness me flipping a coin, heads she goes through with the actions, tails I will be doing them and she can have the evening off." Kipper sat in thought for a second.

"This seems fairly standard, why do you need me involved?" He enquired.

"Because some of these things will involve exposure to my co-workers while wearing a mask. Sometimes your working girl will expose herself with me present to form my alibi, sometimes I will not be present but it still needs to be thought to be her. So I need her otherwise unavailable on those nights and when people start asking about a girl who keeps flashing our events, I'm going to need you to leak that a male client gets his kicks from it. I'm also fairly certain that had I not taken you into my confidence word would have gotten back to you eventually anyway."

"Seems like you thought it through." Kipper calmly acknowledged.

"Yes, and for these services I will pay you $250,000 a year. This figure is large so any time someone wants to bribe you with a one off fee to know my secret, be aware that you would be passing up a regular recurring fee that will add up to something far more substantial in the long run." Christine let her breath escape her body as she finished her pitch. Kipper calmly got up and fetched his lap top.

"It's a good thing you came to me with this proposal, I was actually originally hired to get blackmail material for another one of your co-workers, hence the surprise prostitute in the spa." Kipper opened his laptop to a recording from the hotel security cameras of Christine strutting down the hallways naked and oiled. "I was about to show them this when you called but I suppose $250,000 a year to provide half a service is a good enough deal for me to delete the footage." Christine marvelled at her embarrassment on the screen.

"I mean you shouldn't share this, but how about you keep it? Just in case the coin comes up tails and I try to back out." Christine replied with a cheeky grin. They exchanged bank account details and emails, then just like that the agreement was set. Christine promised she would be in touch in the near future.

...

It was about a fortnight before the next opportunity, a corporate conference on innovation in investment. Christine had spent that time planning her long term strategy. She had picked five other regular female attenders of these events and had calculated that if she only went through with the arrangement at retreats that the other five were present at, nobody could conclusively figure out she was the common link. She had also faked up a fatiguing condition, giving her an excuse to occasionally be unavailable for an evening.

Christine opened up an email and sent it to Kipper. It read:

"I will arrive early and unseen to the conference centre. If the coin comes up heads I will be present at the welcome session when your girl runs across the stage wearing only a mask, otherwise I will text my colleagues telling them I am running late before running across the stage naked myself." Christine smiled to herself as she pressed send.

When the day arrived Christine was giddy with anticipation, she arrived good and early and went straight to Kipper's room, where he was waiting with the masseuse that had first played with Christine. Her hair was dyed a deeper shade of brown to match Christine's and Kipper assured her that her body type was as similar to Christine's as could be. She introduced herself as Starla and talked about how much she looked forward to working with Christine into the future.

After the strange small talk was over, Kipper showed Christine the security feed for the Conference Hall, it was beginning to fill up and the welcome speech would begin shortly. He held out the coin with a smile and gave Christine a moment to drink in the dread of flashing her colleagues. He flicked the coin, the high pitched wine of the metal being struck reverberating throughout the room and cutting through Christine like a knife. He opened his hand to reveal that heads had won and Christine gasped with relief, drinking in the casual resignation of Starla.

"You better go take your place." Kipper announced with a smile, as Starla began to strip her clothes off right there and then.

Christine went into a daze as she grabbed her conference badge, made small talk with her colleagues and began to listen to yet another speech about shifting investment paradigms outside the box. She let out a little squeak as she saw a leg appear at the curtains on the side. The crowd gasped as all of a sudden a naked woman sprinted across the stage, her face obscured by a leather cat mask that let her hair flow behind with the momentum of running. All were in shock apart from Christine, who looked up imagining how the slightest alteration on the physics applied to an airborne rotating metal cylinder could have meant that being her on stage.

For the rest of the day the streaker was on everyone's lips. Nobody addressed what had happened directly, but she became a key figure in joke punchlines and throwaway comments for every seminar and talk Christine took herself to. The thought that it could have been her drove her wild with delight. By the second day the rumour that one of the managers was into watching prostitutes expose themselves had firmly taken ahold, giving Christine reason to smile at her choice of accomplice. At night Christine spent a good amount of time in her room, tossing a coin to herself to remind herself of the high when the coin was in the air and anything was possible.

The conference was a week-long affair and the next was in a month's time. Christine decided there was no way she could go that long without the rush of another coin flip. She composed the email to Kipper.

"I wish to have one more coin flip this conference. Saturday morning at the end of the men's golf tournament. Loser of the coin flip has to go into the club bar naked and kiss the winner."

Christine felt a familiar tingle as she clicked "send." Kipper did not take long to respond that Starla was available and to meet at his hotel room Saturday at 10:00am.

The rest of the conference was a frustrating blur for Christine, with no concentration on anything but the dragging of time, the sound of a flipping coin resonating through her mind. Eventually Saturday arrived, but Christine got very little sleep beforehand.

Kipper was waiting for her, coin in hand. Christine's stomach turned itself in knots as he slowly lined the coin up on his hands and prepared the flick. It went high into the air before landing on his hand, Christine's fate sealed awaiting the reveal. He moved his hand away and Christine saw the tails of the coin mocking her.

"I suppose we better get to it then" Kipper announced in a matter of fact way, opening the hotel door and gesturing for Christine to go through. They made their way to his car and as they drove to the golf club, Kipper explained the plan.

"So I have told the person running the tournament that I will be providing a prize for the winner. You can strip now as you will be leaving your clothes in the car. You will come with me, I will lead you up to the front to kiss the winner and then lead you back to the car." Christine began to strip off her clothes, hesitating at Kipper's intense look. Yes Kipper had seen her naked before on a monitor, but it was entirely different to have him sitting in front of her eyeing her up and down.

"Where's the mask?* She asked, now stripped to her underwear.

"Email never said anything about a mask." Kipper curtly replied. Christine had to admit he was right but that didn't make it OK. Surely the terms of the agreement made it clear her identity should be protected? She was just about to get angry when Kipper continued, "I'll tell you what, how about another flip? Heads you get a mask, tails we stick to your original plan."

All Christine wanted to do was to tell him to get fucked, she was risking enough as it was. But then Kipper started absentmindedly flipping a coin in front of her and the chilling thoughts of risk burrowed deep into her psyche. She unclasped her bra, removed her knickers, handed her bundle of clothes to Kipper then nodded in agreement. Naked and vulnerable the coin whizzed through the air and landed in Kipper's hand.

Heads.

Christine sighed with relief as Kipper pulled a gimp mask out of his suitcase, clearly demonstrating this move was pre-planned.

"I was going to have you and Starla wear that iconic cat mask at every turn to establish an identity, but this is the only mask in my collection you can kiss someone while wearing. And don't you think about giving the winner a peck on the cheek, if I don't see your tongue go into his mouth I'm not letting you back into the car." Christine couldn't believe she was letting some unknown pimp talk to her this way, like she wasn't a wealthy member of high society. She was beginning to feel the rage well up within her until she realised he was talking to her exactly as he should, he was a winner addressing a loser. Once she accepted her position, all her objections, her hatred of the situation, the absolute humiliation, were all swept under a rug titled "you should have won."

Christine pulled the mask over her head as the car pulled up outside the golf club and parked next to the entrance to the clubhouse. There was an awkward silence as Kipper kept an eye on his phone for the cue to enter. Christine checked her reflection in the mirror and began to tuck errant strands of hair into the mask.

"You know with a body like yours, I'd probably hire you if everything goes tits up." Kipper announced to break the silence. "Clearly you have a gym membership, you're nicely toned, although if you were one of mine you'd probably need to cut back on the calories a little, starting to get a bit of a tummy. But those tits! I got girls who won't pay off the surgical costs for five years just to get breasts like yours." Kipper's phone buzzed and Christine felt relieved that he had stopped talking immediately followed by dread of what the text message entailed.

Kipper opened the door and with a wide grin held out his arm to help Christine out of the car. Christine could feel her breathing inside the mask as she stood and began to walk towards the boisterous noise coming from the club bar, the occasional round of cheers and applause confirming they were handing out prizes. Kipper signalled for Christine to hide around the corner and wait for his signal, leaving her alone and naked in the club corridors.

"Gentlemen, Gentlemen." His voice floated out from the bar, making Christine shiver with each word. "When I heard that Bertie had finished at a whopping four under par, I had to come and congratulate him myself." Christine swore to herself, Bertie was the most stuck up, pompous, entitled, old money, do nothing in HNF investments. In the rare moments he was not playing golf on the company buck he would lech around the office making every woman under the age of 50 feel uncomfortable.

"Then when I told some business colleagues of mine about Bertie's Sterling performance, one in particular decided that to just send their congratulations was simply not enough. Why don't you come show Bertie how impressed you are?" Kipper yelled, signalling for Christine to enter.

Christine clenched her fists and walked into the crowded room. Her bosses, her equals and even some of her subordinates turned to look her body up and down, eyeing her up like wolves circling a piece of meat. She reached the edge of the bar where Bertie was clasping his award, his ridiculous colourful golf trousers doing a terrible job of hiding his erection. Christine sauntered up to him, grabbed his hips and pulled his body against hers, she looked into his lecherous eyes and swallowed her pride before pressing her lips to his. Bertie did not immediately react, the shock keeping his mouth closed. So Christine decided to pull her face away and go back in for another kiss, this time leading with her tongue sensuously licking his lips on the way into his mouth. Her stomach doing backflips as the crowd cheered and Bertie used his one free hand to dramatically grab her bottom.