The knock when it came was almost inaudible even though the room was silent. It was like a mouse scratching in dust. Of course, I knew who it was, or who it ought to be, and I glanced at the clock. She had been told to be on time, that she would be punished for being late, but it was five minutes before her appointment. I decided to let her wait. Being over-eager and early was almost as bad as being late. She had to learn.
I busied myself setting up the cameras and noisily banging pieces of furniture to let her know I was in here. Then I sat behind my desk and picked up her file. Her name was Hanna, without the final 'H' I noted, and she was 20 years of age. She had been recommended to me by a colleague. Their simple and brief notes stated that Hanna was introverted but eager to embrace the skills we teach. She was obedient but with an occasional rebellious streak. My colleague, Miss K. felt that she was not responding to the discipline of a female and that she would benefit from the attentions of a man, hence why she was being sent to me.
The knock came on the door once more, a little louder this time. I glanced at the clock, still a minute to go. I put down the file and leaned back in my chair, looking across my desk at the solitary upright chair in the centre of the room. That was to be her first test. A third knock, this time with a hint of impatience behind it. I smiled to myself. First meetings are always critical. They set the tone.
"Come!" I called finally.
As the door opened, I leant forward and put my elbows on the desk and looked at her for the first time. As she walked into the room, I made my first assessment. She was undoubtedly pretty and looked younger than her twenty years. She had mousy brown hair, hanging freely, and reaching just below her shoulders. I watched as she looked around nervously and, seeing me examining her, she dropped her gaze to the floor. She was demurely dressed in a white blouse and black mid-thigh skirt. The length of her skirt hid whether she was wearing tights or stockings. Her black, three-inch heels click-clacked across the wooden floor and she walked over to the lonely chair and sat down, folding her hands neatly into her lap, eyes still fixed to the floor. She didn't look up so didn't see me frown.
"Did I say you could sit?" I snapped at her.
She looked up in alarm, flicked a look at me and sprang to her feet.
"Well young..." I paused and flicked open her file, pretending to look for her name, "... Ahhhh, Hanna. This is not a good start, is it? Arriving well before your appointed time and sitting without my express permission."
"I...I...I'm sorry," she stuttered and then, "... Sir," she added hastily.
"I can see we have work to do. Will you be worth the effort I ask myself."
"I will try harder, Sir. Miss K. always...
I cut her short with an impatient wave of my hand.
"Miss K. is not here. She and I differ in our methods. While you are here you belong to me and obey only me. Is that understood?"
She glanced up nervously. "Yes, Sir." she said in a quiet voice.
"Good. Now, take off your blouse!"
There was a momentary hesitation before she reached up and started to unbutton her blouse. As she took it off, she revealed a surprisingly pretty, pink bra. She looked around, the blouse dangling from one hand. I pointed to a spot on the floor.
"Just drop it there," I told her, "The floor is clean."
She let go and it crumpled to the floor, and she came back to face me, still nervously averting her eyes. The bra, although pretty in a sort of adolescent way, seemed to be hiding very little which made me curious, but I wanted to savour more of her, and it didn't help to rush these things.
