(http://i893.photobucket.com/albums/ac134/helvorn/PaulettePix.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">PAULETTE LISETTE SAINT-SIMON</span></span><br/><strong>Location:</strong>In the Park<br/><strong>With:</strong>Her master, Dr. Okello Okanjo; Dr. James Suthering; Sutherling's friend, Adrian Dumont<br/><br/>Paulette started a bit as Doctor Okanjo reached down and stroked her hair and petted her on the head.  Even in her mind she called him Doctor Okanjo or Master with a capital 'M'.  After suffering through the beating and anal rape she would not ever dare think of him as anything but 'Doctor Okanjo'.  It was a small thing or not so small to him and as she'd been conditioned all her life to defer to male authority it was easy for her to slip into the mental habit of respect for him.  She shivered unwillingly as he scratched her scalp and ran those powerful, handsome and dexterous fingers along her jawline and chin.  After being beaten she craved kindness and tender treatment and it was all she could do to not sigh and cuddle her face against those dominating, all knowing hands.  Damn it, she was experiencing the Stockholm syndrome; he was training her, training her, training her, always training her like a high strung filly or prize bitch. It was like that at the Center.  She'd been trained 24/7 for nine full months until she wondered just how much of her thoughts and memories were her own.  Now under the pressure of his dominant, masculine control she felt herself slipping naturally back into the position of accepting, no craving the mental fucking of her cunt mind... her mind cunt...  Her only hope during that time was that she'd be free of their methods and control once bought by a master, she'd take her punishment and regain her freedom.  Now... now she might never escape, ever.<br/><br/>As Doctor Okanjo tilted her head back she again met green eyes with blue.  She wondered at his swarthy complexion and light colored eyes in some idle bit of her brain that was always watching, measuring and judging.  Her pupils were dilated with equal parts fear, lust and confusion as well as that deep intelligence that lurked in her mind and missed very little.  As her master nudged her legs open, Paulette complied until she cringed and grimaced with not only the ache of her overstressed tendons as her thighs opened but with the agony of the biting rope stretched taunt and beyond taunt into the delicate flesh of her slit and the reddened and aching ring of her anus.  She held the position under his touch for a long moment.  The change in posture placed a pressure on her bowels and a large oozing droplet of his cum escaped her loosened bowels and ran down her crack.  The semen puddled and then dripped down from her body in a long string like a white stalactite in a cave.  Her ass and cheeks reddened as a glistening thread of his cum descended from her bruised and swollen asshole to the ground, proclaiming to all that she'd been buggered virile and well endowed master. Other slave girls watched her leak her master's cum with expressions of envy or pity or even amusement.  All Paulette could do was burn with humiliation.<br/><br/>Turned to face him she sighed and wriggled her body gratefully as he removed first the leash and then the crotch rope.  The drizzle of semen dripping from her asshole was disrupted but his load seemed endless.  Her face lit up with relief and her eyes caught his with a glint of thankfulness as if she should be thanking him for inflicting this on her in the first place.  Luckily for her, Master looked up as drinks were brought and she could look around surreptitiously.  Despite all that was going on around her, Paulette's attention was focused relentlessly on Doctor Okanjo.  He held the power of pain, pleasure and torment over her and she could not but look at him, listen to him and try to understand his moods and behavior.  Had she been a dog her ears would have been perked forward and there would have been a tiny flicker of her tail to show interest.  Already she sensed that he was happy and relaxed from the tone of his toast.<br/><br/>Her mouth watered with thirst at the sight and smell of the whiskey and she watched carefully as he pour the water and drank some.  Paulette's head came up to meet the glass as he brought it down to her and she eagerly sipped at what he allowed her.  A stir of fear and lust went through her loins as he pressed the glass against her, his own lips on the smooth surface as he shared the drink with her.  Paulette thought that she was only going to get water, to get her thirst quenched at his bidding and control.  He was perhaps showing her that she was just an extension of him with no identity or control beyond what he offered.  In three months time would she have the will power to walk away from the rape and abuse or would she relax and accept his lead, his control, his shaping of her mind and body?<br/><br/>The dribble of water upset her and she tried to jerk her head to keep from spilling down her face and onto her shapely but still reddened breasts.  The cold erected her nipples and the intensely neat and proud woman suffered in disarray and mess.   the wet puddle between her knees was mortifying for a woman who obsessively organized her purse, closets and life.  Neatness was her angle of control and even this was being taken away.  That she needed a napkin under her was beyond aggravating and terrible.  All she could do was arch her breasts into his hands to be cleaned.<br/><br/>As the sushi arrived she looked up from her mess and watched with growing hunger.  She had not eaten since the dawn and her belly rumbled in protest.  She was again mortified as her body betrayed her just as her cunt had already done so with her copious arousal.  He caught her looking at him as he ate and she dared not break the eye lock as he smiled back at her.  She wondered what new punishment was hatching in his clever mind.  She watched the sushi approach and then at his motion of<strong>"Ahhh"</strong>opened her mouth and let him place the hunk of fish and rice on her tongue.  As she chewed gratefully three things went through her mind; first the sushi was excellent, second she could still taste his cum on her tongue and third he was breaking her with food like a falconess held onto a gloved hand with a jess.<br/><br/>She savored the wonderful sushi and then watched as he took a bite out of a second piece.  He didn't eat it immediately but fed her the other half. Then he ate as she did, matching her moves as he matched his.  It was a bond, a deep and visceral bond to share food in such an intimate way as the other slave cunts gobbled food from the floor.  He was saying they were linked and that he would choose entirely the rules and times of engagement.  She watched him as she ate, a glimmer of understanding appearing in her eyes as well as a growing fear at the ultimate consequences if he broke her.