Cynthia Armitage

Breathe a word of this to anyone and I'll see to it that you never work in this country again. Do you understand?
You are stunned. Mrs. Armitage, head of the influential Armitage family and your employer, just kissed you. And you liked it.
You nod back at her, a goofy smile on your lips. Noting it, Cynthia Armitage smiles.
She must be 60 years old but she doesn't look it. Confident and powerful, she pulls you into her office, heels clicking on the parquet floor. She's wearing a fur coat that's buttoned all the way up - curious for such a warm day. She has her silver hair knotted up tight in a bun. She makes her way over to the drinks stand and pours two glasses of whisky from her decanter. She hands one to you and puts the other down on the table.
She turns back to you and starts unbuttoning her coat.
Here's the deal. I decided to spend a little time having fun for once, and I would have that fun with the first person I saw today who caught my eye. She opens the coat, her body rippling sinuously as she shrugs out of it and lets it fall.
Under it, she's wearing a purple corset, stockings and garters.
I have you for two days. She smiles. Let's have some fun.
She raises her glass in a toast.
The contract is binding; I will have you for 48 hours, at the end of which you will receive $30,000 and remain discrete about the weekend. She offers you a pen.
Is that acceptable to you?