Joan, the head of the secretary pool, entered Don's office with the usual stack of files ahead of his daily meeting. She wore a form fitting blouse with buttons in the front. Her red hair was neatly tied up in a bun. Don was in his usual starched shirt and black tie.
As she bent over to place the documents on his table, he took the opportunity to covet her ass.
"I saw that," she said, glancing back at Don with a raised eyebrow. "What?" Don said, rudely dismissive, then returned attention to his desk.
Joan stepped over to the window overlooking dozens of desks full of secretaries, and pulled down the blinds. A routine habit that usually precluded Don taking a nap. But instead of leaving, Joan locked the door.
Hearing the click, Don looked up. He thought he was about to get a chewing out for some recent mishandling of a fellow employee. "What?" he asked, this time firmly demanding an actually answer.
"I have something for you," Joan said, more sweetly than usual.
Don raised an eyebrow, curious. "Okay?"
"Stand up, and go to the corner," she said, pointing to a corner. Don contemplated this for a few seconds, but Joan's unrelenting smirk, and finger which continued to wave to the corner, quickly won him over. He stood up, mumbled, "Is someone in trouble with mommy?" and walked to the corner.
"Close your eyes," she said. Don did so.
She heard the light scuffing of her skirt as she walked up right behind him, then she whispered in his ear, "Remove your clothes." Don tried to look back at her, but she grabbed his head firmly with both hands, pulling his ear closer. "Take off all your clothes," she said. "Do it for me." She wiped on hand over his eyes to close them again, then let go and stepped back.
Don squeezed his eyes shut as he cooly unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled an arm out of each sleeve. Just as he finished with the second sleeve, he felt Joan tug it away. He then unbuckled and pulled off his pants. Again, Joan tugged them out of his hand as he finished. Then his boxers and socks. "Okay," he said, fully nude.
He could hear as she moved around and away from him for a dozen seconds. He imagined she was disrobing as well. He felt her place a soft material in his hand, which he immediately recognized as nylons.
"Put these on," she said.
Don opened his eyes and looked down. Indeed it was a pair of pantyhose. He also quickly noticed that his clothes were no longer on the chair. Instead panic set in.
Don spun around to see Joan, still fully clothed, by the door. "Put them on, or I open the blinds," she said, her smile gone. "Quickly." Her hand was holding the cord to the blinds.
It registered this was probably some sort of blackmail, but he saw no other option. He clumsily attempted to pull them on, leaning over to pull them over one foot, then fell to the floor. Joan watched him wiggle into them, clearly frustrated after they bunched up at his knees.
"Stand up," she said, and he stood, still tugging at them. "And stop moving." Don dropped his arms to his sides, and froze.
Joan walked to him and reached down, pulling the pantyhose into place around his waist, then tugging along his legs to ensure they were smooth. Satisfied, she dragged her fingers up from his feet to his ass. He sighed out of ecstasy.
"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked.
"What are you doing, Joan?" she asked.
Joan snapped straight up in perfect posture facing Don and smacked him. "You don't get to ask questions."
Don was stunned. He began to mumble, "Okay" but was stopped with another smack.
Joan added, "You don't say anything unless you're asked directly."
She grabbed him by the scalp and forced him to his knees with little resistance. She leaned down to his ear. "Do you understand?"
"Yes," he whispered back.
She turned to face him, their lips an each from each other. Don couldn't resist and pressed his lips against hers. She pulled back and smacked him again. "You do nothing unless your told," she said. This time she spoke as if she was addressing a petulant child, disgusted at his ignorance.
"You think you can have anyone you want, anyway," she said. "But you're about to learn, you can't."
"I've seen you watching me," she continued. "Fantasizing about me, pretending you could have me any time."
Don played coy, but stayed silent.
Joan loomed above him. Her right hand reached up to her bosom, her nails tracing their outline. "I know you've longed for these."
She unbuttoned her blouse, and pulled down her bra, allowing her ample breasts to spill out. She leaned over, swaying her chest so her nipples almost brush against Don's lips. He opened his mouth, yearning for them.
"Which one do you prefer?"
Don took this as an invitation, and wrapped his mouth around an areola, suckling madly. Joan smacked him again and pulled back. "I ASKED which one you preferred, I didn't tell you to suck on it!"
She grabbed him by the scalp again, tugging his head back. He grunted at the combination of frustration, pleasure, and pain.