One Simple Mistae

Laura stared in horror at her computer screen, willing the text that was staring her in the face to go away, to somehow transform into something else, but realising it couldn't and wouldn't.

Her client would be angry, very angry. So angry there was a good chance that she could lose her job over this. The dream job that she'd been chasing after for ten years since graduation, that she'd finally got a year before.

And it could all be over for this one, in some ways small, in other ways huge, life changingly big mistake.

She knew what she'd been thinking when she'd drafted the agreement, how best to structure it to protect her client from downside risk but in a way that would work for the other party. But the part she'd missed, the part she hadn't anticipated, was that a particular sequence of unlikely events would trigger losses for her client. Huge losses. As in, client goes bankrupt losses.

Those unlikely events had just happened, and the email on her screen, friendly enough, was from the other party asking how payment would be arranged.

Mundane, trivial, a normal email. But in the background Laura could hear everything coming crashing down around her. Professional negligence didn't come close to describing what she'd done.

She was fucked. Career endingly fucked, and still only in her early thirties.

Half an hour had passed and Laura had sat there at her desk rooted to the spot the whole time, desperately working out what to do.

She glanced up as the door to her shared office opened and shuddered inwardly when she saw Steve, the man she shared the office with at her firm, walk in as cockily as usual.

Steve was as different to Laura as could be. Him, somewhere on the border of upper class with a filthy rich father, her firmly working class with barely any money in her family. Him, the product of a top boarding school and the best university, her educated at her local state school and a mediocre university, the best she could get to from her background. Him, having led a charmed existence where everything came easily and he knew half the senior people at their firm through daddy, her having had to work and fight every single day to get to where she was.

That was probably the biggest difference between the two of them... Laura had had to work smart to get where she was, saying yes to every piece of work, working weekends and late nights to do extra, saying yes to doing everything and helping everyone. She knew that that irritated Steve, he sometimes teasingly called her Miss Perfect when it was just the two of them, but she needed to do that all just to keep pace with the likes of Steve and their head start in life.

Sometimes the person you shared an office with could be a blessing, someone to act as a sounding board and a confidant. And sometimes, like with Steve, not. He was focused on his own career and climbing the ladder, not on helping someone that he saw as beneath him.

Today, though, when he saw her and how clearly worried she was he smelled blood, like a shark. "What's up Miss Perfect?" he asked, pretending to be jolly.

Fuck it, Laura thought, I might as well tell him. It will be everywhere soon enough anyway. "I fucked up. Big time. I don't know what to do."

"Big time as in really big time?"

"As in kill my client and then my own career big time, yeah."

"Ah. That's unfortunate," he replied with classic understatement. "You want me to take a look? Second pair of eyes and all that."

It was the last thing that Laura wanted, in all honesty. But it would be useful, just in case. She bit the bullet. "If you could, then yes please. I'll send it to you now. But please, please, please keep this to yourself for now. Please."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," he replied, laughing. God, thought Laura, this isn't a laughing matter, how can he seem so relaxed about it?

Laura sent the details over, and then went out for a walk, figuring that she probably had only a few days left with the firm until she got fired for gross misconduct so why waste that time worrying at her desk?

She came back a couple of hours later to find Steve sitting smugly at his computer. Sitting back down herself, she steeled herself for whatever was to come. As far as he was concerned, she was just another rival on the path up the ladder, and anything that could take her out was another step towards his ultimate glory.

So, she was surprised, very surprised in fact, when he smiled and said, "I agree, you've got a problem. But I can fix it."

"You can fix it? Seriously?" Relief flooded through her.

"Yeah," he nodded. "It's a bit unorthodox, but I can."

"How?"

"Well, as it turns out my father happens to own a certain company, that owns another company, that owns the other party to your deal. And I could, if I wanted to, talk to the person in charge of that company and make them see sense, make them see that this was an honest mistake and that it wouldn't be in their long term interests to pursue it."

Laura was taken aback, and also annoyed. How come someone like Steve got to have that sort of influence just from his upbringing and his family, while she couldn't dream of that. One rule for the rich and one for everyone else, she thought.

But, in the end, she thought don't look a gift horse in the mouth. "Yes please, I don't think there's any other answer. And we can keep it between us?"

Steve smiled back, and said, "Steady on there. I said I could. Not that I would."

Laura's heart sunk again. What game was he playing? "What would turn could in to would? Ideally as quickly as humanly possible."

Steve stood up and closed the door to the office. Here it comes, thought Laura. This could be anything. She braced herself.

"There's a lot of money involved. A lot."

"Ok..."

"So you need to give me something in return that's worth that much money. Something awesome."

"Right..."

"Any ideas?"

Laura just looked at him, a knot growing in the pit of her stomach. She had nothing of much value that she could give him that he didn't already have. Except, and her mind recoiled from this, except of course herself...

He could clearly see the thoughts going through her head and the desperation that she felt thinking them, her whole body language slumping and a defeated look on her face. She was caught between a rock and a hard place. Which was the lesser of two evils?

"Seriously, any ideas?" he repeated, still smiling.

She sighed. "You have to say it. I know where you're heading, but you have to say it. I can't."

"It's got to be worth a lot. I think..." He pretended to consider it, but she knew that he had already decided what would be worth it. "I think... what are you doing later?"

She looked at him in disgust and annoyance. But, in her head, she knew she'd do what he wanted. Reluctantly. Very reluctantly. But compared to her entire career and life being ruined, spending the evening with Steve, Steve extracting whatever price he deemed worthy for his help, it was a small price to pay in comparison. And she'd do what many women in the workplace over the years had done, she'd swallow the guilt, hide it deep down, and use it. Use it to motivate and to fuel her in the future.

Because there really would be guilt. Laura was engaged to be married, her fiancé working in a similar professional job to her, and she had never been unfaithful. Never. But, she thought grimly, if she got sacked for gross misconduct all of their plans would be up in the air, the house they wanted to buy, plans for kids and for growing old together, it would be blown apart through no-one's fault but her own. She couldn't punish him for her mistake. She just had to front up and own it and fix it, for the long term good of their relationship.

Still, she hesitated. "I... don't know about that."

Steve looked at her condescendingly. "My offer to help expires in two minutes time. Two minutes. After that there's nothing I can do."

Shit, she thought. He had all the leverage. She had none. "Tell me what we'd do later," she asked through gritted teeth.

Steve smiled, sensing she was coming round to his way of thinking. "I'll give you my address, you come over at 7. Say that you've got a deal come in, something urgent which, to be honest, is kind of true, and it's an all-nighter. You can leave at 6am but don't expect any sleep."

"That sounds... a lot."

"It's a lot of money. And while you're there, you do whatever I say or tell you to do without question. Absolutely anything. I'm in complete control tonight. Any disobedience and the offer to help goes."

Laura took a deep breath, feeling like this was escalating rapidly but also well aware that it still wasn't a high price to pay compared to losing her career.

"Nothing that harms me, ok?"

"Ok. I'm not a monster."

Laura laughed grimly at that, thinking that he certainly seemed to be although she didn't say that out loud.

"And, if I do come to your address, when do you fix my, ah, problem?"

"6am tomorrow. I'll get their CEO out of bed if I have to. Ok?"

Laura sighed. Fuck it, she thought. This is ridiculous. But it's my mistake, I've got to own it, this is the game I've got to play against entitled pricks like this.

"Ok, you've got a deal."

Steve stepped across the office and held out his hand to shake hers. Laura reluctantly took it, and realised that in all likelihood she'd be feeling a lot more of his hand that night. The thought made her shudder slightly inside. I can't believe this is going to happen, she thought, why didn't I just fucking draft the thing right in the first place?

7pm and Laura was stood outside the address she'd been given, a very upmarket three story townhouse in the Belgravia area of London. The streets around were quiet, this being an area where despite its centrality the occupants generally had enough money to afford to either drive or be driven. The gardens in the middle of the square that the street went down one side of were empty, the gates locked and only for access by the rich residents.

She looked up and down the street, and was taken aback. If this was genuinely Steve's place then the money in his family was far more than she'd thought. This house easily cost £5 million. Easily.

Laura felt nervous. Very nervous. This wasn't going to be some drunken fumble to be forgotten about. Steve clearly had some big plans for the night, and she'd agreed to do whatever he wanted.

Somewhere, very deep down, so deep that she wouldn't have admitted it to herself, there was a frisson of excitement too, the excitement coming from doing something illicit.

And, she consoled herself, Steve was a good looking guy, likely the result of his model mother's genes rather than his father's... if she had to do this, she'd rather that than some fat, aging, self obsessed man.

But that was relative. Overall, yes she'd agreed to be there, yes this would be consensual, but God knew it was a very reluctant consent, borne from the circumstances she found herself in. Without that error, there was absolutely no way she would have ever found herself there.

Taking a deep breath of the cold night air she walked up the steps and rang the door bell, starting to shiver despite her long coat over her work dress, though whether the shivering was all the cold or partly adrenaline she couldn't tell.

Laura heard a laugh from inside, then a voice call, and then the hall light came on and there was Steve, stood at the door, smiling at her.

"You came, great," he said, acting the benevolent host and ushering Laura in. Laura took a few steps in to the tiled hallway while Steve closed and, she noticed, bolted the door behind her. "Oh, don't worry about that," he replied. "You can leave whenever you want. If you want. It's just there's a lot of burglaries happen round here... big houses with no one at home, that sort of thing."

She smiled weakly and said, "It's a, uh, nice place. It's yours?"

"Thanks, yeah, it's not bad. I mean, I prefer my place in Majorca but this is good enough for London."

"It's huge. It's seriously yours?"

"Yeah."

"Ummm... can I ask, I thought I heard another voice. Is there someone else here?"

Steve smiled. "I invited some friends over for the night. Come and meet them, they're in the kitchen."

"Wait... some friends? So not just you?"

Steve's smile turned to a grin. "It's a lot of money I'm helping you with. I figure the least you can do is give my friends a fun time too, right?"

"I... don't know if I can do that..." replied Laura, trailing off. She'd got her head around sleeping with Steve, reluctantly, but some others as well... that was a surprise.

"Like I said, you can leave now if you want. But then tomorrow, your problem won't be fixed and, to be blunt..." He put a hand on her shoulder to emphasise the point. "Miss Perfect will be fucked." He paused. "So, your call."

Putting a brave face on it, she said, "You've got me. Let's meet them."

Steve showed her through to the kitchen, which was enormous and had a huge island unit that three good looking, firmly top boarding school educated men were sat around, all in their late twenties like Steve. They all stood as she came in, impeccable manners drilled into them from a young age, and she noticed that they were all at least six foot tall. She felt small next to them despite being five foot nine herself and wearing high heels that night.

"Gents, meet Laura. Laura, this is Tarquin, Barnaby, and Paolo." The three men each shook her hand politely, and welcomed her. The third, Paolo, really caught Laura's eye... he was implausibly handsome, presumably Italian looks and fashion sense, and she could see that he knew it.

"Laura, I'll show you where you can leave your things. You'll see the guys again later, I promise."

"Uh... ok, my things?"

"Yes, come this way." He led her back to the hall and then upstairs to a first floor bedroom, tastefully decorated and feeling like no expense had been spared, the high ceiling adding to the atmosphere of effortless class that whole house had.

"Is this where we... you know?" she asked, looking at the giant four poster bed.

"Maybe later. But look, this is where you need to do what I say, ok?" She nodded. "I want you to take all of your clothes off. All of them. You can keep those high heels on, and keep that necklace and jewellery on, but I don't want to see a stitch on you."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. And when you're ready, come back down, leave your bag and clothes here, and I'll see you in the kitchen."

"You want me to walk back in there naked?" she asked, incredulous.

"Yes, or is that a problem?"

She quickly shook her head to say no. "I'll be down soon," she replied. "Just give me a bit of time."

Steve left and closed the door behind him, and Laura sank down to sit on the bed, head in her hands, wondering what the hell she'd let herself in for?

The first thing she did was pull out her phone and message her fiancé, telling him that it was definitely shaping up to be an all-nighter and not to wait up for her. She hated lying to him, but the least she could do was protect him from what her night was going to entail, and if that meant him not waiting up and not worrying then all the better.

Then, she stood up and took off her coat, kicked off her shoes, and started to remove her clothes. She took no pleasure in doing so, but just wanted to get it out of the way, to get it done.

When she was naked, she stood and looked at herself in the mirror. Laura was an attractive woman, one who'd grown in to her looks more as she got older so that in her early thirties she was probably at her peak. Her tanned skin spoke to her Mediterranean ancestry on both sides, her mother being Cypriot and her father being Italian, and her large, dark brown eyes and dark brown hair, cut to shoulder length, also belied that ancestry.

She kept in good shape, a combination of yoga, pilates and running keeping the weight off and maintaining her muscle tone so that she was just the right combination of toned without being too skinny, and her breasts were a great size too, not too large but not too small. Her pubic hair was dark and close trimmed in a neat triangle, a style that her fiancé loved.

Laura had certainly had no problem getting attention from both men and women when she was younger, and to this day she knew that there were quite a few men in the office who wouldn't mind being in Steve's shoes right now.

Laura tied her hair back in a ponytail, realising that it was unlikely that what the evening had in store would be conducive to wearing her hair down for very long, and then went a slipped her black, high heeled shoes back on. Her necklace and earrings were still there from earlier.

Jesus, she thought looking in the mirror again, I look like a whore. With a grimace she realised that there was more truth in that comparison at that point than she'd care to acknowledge, literally exchanging her body for a lot of money. The thought made her feel sick to her stomach but she pushed it down, determined not to fuck this up. Whatever Steve threw at her she could take for the sake of her career.

As she walked back down the stairs she heard a toilet flush on the first floor behind her, and saw Barnaby emerge from the bathroom and do a double take.

"My apologies," he said, "I didn't mean to come out just then. You go ahead, I'll follow in a minute."

Laura forced herself to avoid her instinct to cover herself with her hands, and smiled at him over her shoulder. "It's ok, you go first."

Blushing as he walked past, she noticed with a quick glance back to see her from the front, and hurried to the kitchen, and then Laura continued walking down the stairs.

As she came through the hallway and into the kitchen the conversation stopped, and four men stared at her. She started to feel uncomfortable with their stares so made a joke about it. "You've never seen a naked woman before?" she asked, teasingly.

Paolo broke the silence. "Not one so beautiful," he replied with a smile, and despite herself Laura felt her cheeks redden.

Turning to Steve, she said, "What next?"

Steve seemed to be in a semi-trance at the sight of her, and Laura realised with a shock that he'd probably spent the last six months they'd shared an office imagining her, wondering what she would look like naked, to have her in this position.

Breaking out of it, he said, "Come with me. You'll see the others later. I need to show you somewhere." The smirks that the other three shared when he said that made that knot return to Laura's stomach. It felt like there was something she wasn't seeing in all this...

"What the fuck?"

Laura couldn't help saying something as Steve showed her to the large room that occupied the whole top floor of the house.

"Yeah," he laughed. "They always say that. I like to get a bit kinky."

"A bit?" she replied, incredulous.

For the first time she was having doubts as to whether the price he was demanding was too high, even for the sake of her career. Because the top floor room was completely, entirely given over to being a sex room, complete with various props, chairs, restraints, a swing over in one corner. Kinky didn't even start to describe it.

"This is where we'll be for most of the night." He paused. "Unless, of course, you want to leave."

Laura took a deep breath. One night, she told herself, I can do one night. "I've not done any of this before... you'll need to tell me what to do."

"That's the idea," he replied with a smirk. "Come over here."

He led her over to a St Andrews Cross up against one wall, ankle, wrist and waist restraints open and waiting. "Let's try this first. You'll enjoy it, I promise."

Not bloody likely, thought Laura. She resolved, there and then, that whatever happened, whoever she did what with, she would not enjoy it. Or at the very least she would not orgasm. She wasn't going to give Steve that satisfaction.