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Fine Wines and Sophisticated Explanations
Joan motioned to the sofa, indicating that Peggy should sit down, and sat down herself.
“Well, Miss Olson, you have passed the next part of the test. Much to my surprise, I have not had, in the last five years, a trainee fail the test. The pot roast is on the stove and the salad is in the fridge. Therefore let us sit and enjoy this bottle of wine for a while and I will tell you some things about the realities of the business world. Everything they taught you about business in secretarial school is bullshit. Yes, the typing and shorthand is technically useful but that is not really what you are employed for.”
Not entirely surprised at what her office manager was saying, Peggy queried her, “Well what are we supposed to do?”
“Serve their needs, my girl, serve their needs. Secretaries are the modern equivalent of domestic servants, that says it all, pretty much. Think of yourself as Susanne in Mozart’s “Le Nozze di Figaro”. Yes, a sophisticated role. Just observe the wine we are drinking, a white burgundy from the town of Macon. Light, a tiny bit dry, and above all refreshing, just like Susanne. Not too expensive. Just the sort of thing to have before supper. A good secretary can be sent off by her boss in a pinch and should be able to pick up a bottle or two of wine, or flowers, or a box of candy so that he can be prepared for what ever comes up. You should know his tastes and what is good taste. That is one of the reasons why your dress and appearance are so important. Clients will judge him based on how you look. Likewise with deportment. How you talk, how you walk, your vocabulary, all are important. And you are assigned, not to some whelp of a junior executive but to one of the most successful chiefs we have – Don Draper. And someday this firm could be known as Cooper, Draper and Sterling.”
“So what else are we expected to put out?” queried Peggy.
“Plenty much what ever is asked of us. However, being a slut really doesn’t get you anywhere very quickly. Which is one of the reasons you are here tonight. Jumping in bed with Pete Campbell within a day or so of coming on board, just before he is married, is not good form. I am the arbiter of mores in this office. Coupling with a junior executive who is not your boss is a quick way to earn a sound chastisement. We have to maintain standards. A long clever seduction of the prettiest virgin in the office by a senior executive is a work of art that will fuel gossip for months if not years. But sluts are out.”
A visibly upset Peggy retorted “But I thought we were supposed to take care of whoever needs being taken care of. Why else would you have sent me to your own gynecologist to get these novel contraceptive pills. Peter had such a cute, hurting-puppy look when he showed up at my door late that night. I felt so sorry for him that I couldn’t put him out in the rain. Besides, how did you hear about it. Only he and I knew. I didn’t tell anyone and he would be a fool to tell anyone. He didn’t blab, did he, the little rat?”
Joan laughed. “No one else knew? How about your roommate? Don’t you remember what company she works for, NBC? And how much time do our clients buy on NBC. Lack of thinking ahead will cost you dearly in this case. Come Monday you will tell no one of what happened tonight. But when the other girls notice that you are moving gingerly and sitting very lightly, and they know that I had to rearrange my usual Friday night schedule. Well they will put one and one together and come up with two very bruised buttocks. Don’t be surprised if they ask you to go to the powder room and show them you bare behind. If they ask, do it. It will help to restore your reputation. In fact, come to think of it, there is an idea. Monday you are not to wear either panties or a girdle. Just a garter belt and stockings. With the type of skirts you wear no one will know the difference. And show up for work prior to 7:00 AM. I will take you to the powder room and freshen up you up a bit. Then I will float the suggestion to the girls that they can inspect my handiwork and determine if I have lost my touch. Well, in any case, it is time for pot roast. Come along. Let us change our white wine glasses for some more suited for red. We will be having one of these new California wines. Not quite up to the French but at a fraction of the cost. And bring the strap with you. You have been staring at it all this while. Yes, that is what you are going to be punished with. When you sit down to dine, you will hoist up the hem of your slip above your waist and sit on your bare behind. That way, as you eat you will be reminded of why we are here. Quite a charming way to enjoy dinner, don’t you think.?
The First Course – A Spanking
“Ah but I am getting ahead of myself” Joan exclaimed. “It seems that we have totally forgotten why you are here tonight. Before we attack the pot roast, I think we should have a spanking, don’t you.” Peggy looked at her, not knowing entirely what to think, but she knew that it wasn’t going to work out well for her. But she had no choice but to go along with it.
The secretary complied as Joan indicated. She was to stand in back of the chair of the living room set, then raise up her slip until it was gathered just below her brassier, and bend over the back of the chair. It was a familiar enough drill from Peggy’s childhood. But she had to admit that there was a certain erotic charge that she had never noticed before, to exposing herself to someone who was not a family member or a teacher. Also familiar was the charge to count each stroke out loud and clear or face further punishment. With this Peggy had never had a problem. And it came as no surprise when the first blow landed, “One, thank you Mamam”. It was a substantial strap wielded by an experienced hand and Peggy knew that there would be pain and damage. There was a reflex flinch and forward lunge when the blow landed. Peggy recovered quickly and resumed the subservient position before Joan ever had a chance to comment. Peggy was not going to give Joan the pleasure of seeing her cringe and squirm and hearing her cry. She too was an old hand at this game. She was going to show Joan that she could take what ever Joan could dish out.
By the twelfth stroke, the office manager knew that the pony-tailed ingénue from Brooklyn had been disciplined before. She was taking her beating with a stolidity that implied a considerable experience with corporal punishment before. Joan shifted over to the other side and began a series of blows that would treat Peggy’s left side to the fast whipping tail of the strop. “Twenty-four” recited Peggy with scarcely a deep breath drawn. At this point Joan had to reconsider her entire strategy. She had assumed that Peggy would quickly break down after half a dozen blows, but Peggy was hardly panting after two dozen hard swats. In fact, Joan was breathing harder from her effort. However, Peggy’s behind was now covered with what amounted to a single large welt mottled with bright red and purple splotches. At occasional spots, minute drops of blood were even beginning to bead up. Joan thought “OK, this girl has won the first round. She was obviously telling the truth when she said that she has been spanked before. She has not only taken a spanking or two, she has probably been thoroughly beaten on a dozen occasions. I’m pretty sure that Peggy had the living shit whipped out of her prior to graduation from high school.” It was going to take a bit more effort to break this puppy. But Joan was up to the challenge.
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