‘Thank you. I had you pegged for a fast learner, but I may be reconsidering that view. So. Sit. Go on.’
I looked around for the nearest chair.
‘No,’ he said. ‘On the floor.’
I sat down on the threadbare carpet, feeling its roughness against my buttocks. Unsure what to do with my legs, I tucked them to the side. This didn’t appear to be a problem.
‘You can sit in any stance you like,’ he said, ‘but you must lower your eyes and keep them down.’
I did so. It was strange how such simple things played with one’s perceptions. Already I felt small and powerless, unable to see anything of Joss but the toes of his shoes.
They moved, circling me.
‘Do you think you can remember that one? The eyes are the only thing to really bear in mind.’
I nodded. ‘Mm hmm.’
‘Next,’ he said, ‘is Kneel. Can you try and guess how that one looks for me?’
I knelt up, keeping my eyes down and straightening my spine as much as I could. I imagined it was all about grace and display as I pressed my palms into my flanks.
‘Close,’ he said, and the note of praise warmed me. ‘Very close. One small modification – you need to put your hands behind your back. It accentuates the breasts, you see.’
I did as I was told, blushing, but relieved at the eyes-down imperative. It would be ten times worse if I had to hold his gaze.
‘To begin with,’ said Joss, after a short pause I could only imagine was for the purposes of ogling, ‘I’ll use the commands. But in due course, I will want you to memorise these positions by number and be able to assume them accordingly. That will be your homework. Now for the third. Down.’
Down? I looked up at him for clarification.
‘It means you lie flat on your front,’ he explained. ‘Keep your hands behind your back.’
Trying to go from a kneeling to a prone position without using my hands to steady me was not that easy. In fact, I got as far as putting my forehead to the floor before giving up and appealing to Joss.
‘You can use your hands when you move,’ he said with an indulgent smile. ‘You just need to put them back behind your back once you’re on the floor. Now, that’s almost right. But your legs are together. That’s a no-no.’
Reluctantly, I parted my legs, much more conscious of my bottom and pussy than I had been. He had better not be thinking of putting anything he shouldn’t there. But of course he was, and the thought made me want to wriggle my hips.
‘The idea is,’ said Joss softly, ‘that eventually you forget that parts of your body are your private property and come to view them as the property of your master.’
That’ll never happen, I said to myself. I was going to say it to Joss, too, but not until the threat of his spanking palm had passed.
‘OK, have you got that one memorised?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I think so. Can you do me a cheat sheet?’
‘Already done. Let’s move on to number four. Bend.’
‘Is that as in “bend over”?’
‘Exactly so. Let’s see how you interpret it, then.’
I wanted to laugh. It wasn’t a dance. But perhaps it could be. It might be quite interesting to put some of these poses to music and see how it looked.
I stood straight again, then put my hands on my knees and bent over. This was by far the rudest position for me and I felt utterly exposed, as if I was making explicit my desire for punishment.
‘Legs wider,’ said Joss, and I could hear him tapping something, perhaps the edge of a desk. He was pretty excited by all this. His breath was deepening and his voice getting rougher. ‘You’ll only get asked for this one when I need to punish you,’ he said.
That was it. I had passed the boundary of common sense and was out of its range. Lust had punched me in the gut and bundled me over the border. I stood no chance. All I had to fall back on was a dwindling faith in Joss’s ability to keep his promises.