I stood silently for a moment as he regarded me after my decision.  I did not pose but rather held my body naturally for there could be no artifice given what I had just chosen.  At his motion I followed him to the upright piano, the maker was a famous one and my impression of Mati's prowess went up even further.  I glanced at his eyes at his words, sensing some loss as he spoke of his former slave.  Surely she would still be here if he felt so strongly toward her but it was not my place to ask.  I merely nodded and climbed onto the smooth, beautiful wood top of the instrument.  I lay on my side, my head propped in one hand and squirmed a bit as I found a comfortable spot.<br/><br/>When he returned I nodded and took the mic.  My throat had relaxed back to normal as the drug wore off.  I listened to him intently as he laid out his instructions.  Again I just nodded for it seemed that I must save my voice in this instant for singing.  The melody was simple but beautiful in its simplicity.  Over and over we played it and my voice smoothed out as I regained control of my throat.  By the end I was singing a pure, lovely melody in perfect time with Mati's flawless playing.<br/><br/>Then I came down and offered myself up into his hands...<br/><br/><div align="center">+</div><br/>I moved slowly with my master out to the balcony, to the frame but there was no reluctance or struggle.  It was more now about the light, the water and the two of them.  I was indeed an offering to him and to my own inner demons.  Perhaps both would be fed in this purification in the sun and on the rack.  Finally I stood, bound and delivered.  My wrist and ankles ached from the tight, careful knots that Mati had tied.  He knew his business and the rope cut into my flesh just enough to not break the skin.  Still I would have red marks for hours when he let me down.<br/><br/>My calves and ankles ached as I settled up on my tip toes to keep from hanging by my wrists.  Below me the life of the city went on uncaring and in a way eternal as the buzz of activity faded off into the bright blue sea and equally bright sky.  He approached me with candles and I pulled myself back up on my toes for it would not do to hang there in front of him.<br/><br/>I took two of the candles in my mouth, the unblinking eye of the camera recording all that happened just as it recorded my prior life.  What would people think if they could see me now?  Would they think me any less the artist, the woman as I hung here like some figure in a Greek tragedy about to be torn apart by the eagles of the gods.  Would my Hercules come and rescue me?  Would I rather face my fate and so perform in a new, higher level of pure display and pain?  Yet the decision was no longer mine.<br/><br/>I took the candles in my mouth, holding them tightly as he lit them.  Mati's eyes were wide and his pupils dilated.  He was excited at his art and my pain.  I would accept, no revel in whatever he did to burn away my own guilt.  I blinked in agreement with him, my head not moving even as my calves strained with the effort of holding steady.<br/><br/>When he added the head phones I shuddered a bit.  Now he matched the words on my body to the song sung with my own voice.  It was simple really.  I could see know in the purity of the pain as the wax dripped on the slope of my breasts and ran down to my nipples like the fires of the end of the world.  It was just Mati and Paulette.  The words were true 'de Mati, je m'appelle Paulette de Mati'.  My name, my body, my identity belonged to him now.  I was of him and through him I existed now.  It was true.<br/><br/>The wax dripped on my, the music played, my breasts burned and my legs ached.  I jumped and writhed as my legs gave out, the motion jerking the candle about and spattering wax further about my breasts.  Back and forth, back and forth the sun rode steadily in the sky.  Agonizing minutes were counted out by both the sun and the slowly burning candles.  Slowly a glaze of wax built up on my breasts and nipples shielding me from the most intense of pain yet burning me deeply with the built up heat.  I whimpered and cried out softly, not begging for mercy but rather the instinctive, clear sounds of pain brought forth by my abused body.  Finally after an hour I hung limp and exhausted, my mind burned clear of all through by the intensity of the experience.<br/><br/>"Laaaaaaaa..."  I sang out a single clear not as the flames approached my face.<br/>