What Became of Me

Petra lit another cigarette and leaned back. Caught between her previous words and my inner turmoil were her shapely, slender legs, which didn’t exactly help my concentration.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost at the end of this lecture. But you’d better get used to be lectured, at least at the beginning. Not every sub is the same, but you’re smart and thoughtful. For you, it will be helpful to understand my thoughts to become a better toy for me.”

Petra put down her cigarette, stood up and stepped onto the slightly raised podium at the side of the living room.

“Turn round to face me, look at me! Take a good look at my posture.”

If she could have read my mind, Petra might have revised her opinion that I was “smart and thoughtful”. Apart from noting once again that she looked simply stunning and breathtaking, I wasn’t capable of much else.

“I stand upright but not tense. My stance is open and confident. My shoulders are relaxed; my hands are at rest. My gaze is not searching for anything; it is simply observing. When I move, it is for a reason. When I do not move, it is for a reason too. Nothing about my posture is meant to make an impression. Everything about it is meant to show that I am neither apologising nor justifying myself. I am where I intend to be, and that is precisely what my body expresses.”

I had always worried too much about too many things, but even I could see that there was something here I hadn’t learned to read. Petra radiated a kind of effortless authority whose source I couldn’t quite identify.

“Now compare that with the posture I have prescribed you as a guiding principle and a long-term goal. Outwardly, they may appear similar: the same calm, the same order, the same restraint from unnecessary movement.”

I thought about it and gave a slight nod.

Petra walked gracefully up and down the room before returning to the sofa. I realised she was demonstrating the difference rather than merely explaining it.

“Bear this principle in mind: just because two people appear to be doing the same thing, it doesn’t mean they are actually doing the same thing. This is, of course, all the more true when one is a superior being and the other is nothing more than a little doll.”

I was more than happy with that division of roles, even if Petra expected rather more from me than mere passivity of a little doll. She wanted me to actively accept being passive. I mentally put that contradiction into a box marked Later.

“You must learn to adopt your posture to embody your perpetual submission. Simply imitating my posture would be an outrageous presumption. Never confuse the superficial similarity of postures with the rank they express.”

Her eyes flashed with warning.

“Your posture has a clear purpose: you are expected to be available, attentive, disciplined and a pleasure to look at. You are not to decide for yourselves when the task is complete. Your task is never complete. Your attention doesn’t simply switch off because nothing is happening. You are ready. I, on the other hand, observe, assess, give orders, reshape you into something useful. This is the immutable order that is reflected in our attitudes: I give the order, you are ready. I give the order, you obey. I judge, you are judged.”

I was already forbidden to speak in Petra’s presence. But my silence was not supposed to signify shyness. My posture was meant to make my subordinate position visible – to me as much as to her and bystanders. The idea of wearing that posture like an invisible collar was difficult to picture, but the direction was unmistakable.

“I don’t expect you to master this quickly. Your body has spent years learning different habits. After a few seconds it will want to shift its weight. Your hands will look for something to do. Your gaze will wander. Your mind will provide perfectly reasonable explanations for all of it.”

Petra lit her next cigarette, took a deep drag and smiled at me.

“Just like now. You’ve shifted your weight several times while I’ve been talking. You’re conveying uncertainty. Not readiness. Not presence. You’re going to have to train a lot. Don’t get discouraged.”

I nodded. Not because I was convinced, I would achieve the goal she had set, but because I was willing to work for it.

“Most unnecessary movement is an unconscious response to inner restlessness. Learn to notice the difference. Practise your posture regularly. At least once in the morning and once in the evening. Without music. Without your phone. Without distractions. Start with five-minute sessions. No longer yet. The aim is not to remain as still as possible. The aim is to consciously notice every unnecessary movement before you make it. If you realise, you’re about to lift your hand, pause. If you want to shift your weight, ask yourself why. If your gaze wanders, gently bring it back to where it should be. Not harshly. But consistently.”

So, my training task was not to learn how to wait, but how not to wait: to embody readiness, discipline and submission even when nothing was being demanded of me. Petra wasn’t demanding submission in some dramatic, immediate sense. Instead, she was cultivating the mindset that would condition me to see submission as inevitable. That wasn’t merely training but an attempt to make submission into a permanent identity. I had to admit that she was pursuing her plans with foresight and patience.

“Practise in everyday situations too. When you’re “waiting” for the lift, you don’t wait. You assume your posture. When you’re alone in the room before a meeting, you don’t wait. You assume your posture. Make this posture your natural state as soon as your body isn’t required to do anything else. Because I require you to assume your posture then. Understood?”

I nodded. I understood. What worried me was whether I could supply the patience and self-discipline. Whenever I’d been left to my own devices, difficult resolutions aimed at self-improvement had tended to evaporate. Perhaps it would make a difference that this time I wasn’t trying to improve myself. I was following orders to become a better toy. “No”, I thought to myself. “I’m not merely following orders. I’m becoming part of a plan, an obedience structure.”

“You will report your exercises every day, along with every new training task I give you. Factual reports. What you did and how often. I don’t want an assessment of your own progress. I’ll assess your progress. I don’t want to know whether you thought a task was easy or difficult either. That’s irrelevant.”

Petra glanced at her watch and sighed.

“Time is flying. There isn’t enough left for your high-heel training, especially since that requires rather more explanation. But it’s postponed, not cancelled. Let’s do something more enjoyable with the remaining time for today.”