(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Monaco/Characters/Avatars/PauletteAvatar.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>Fairmont Monte Carlo<br/><strong>With:</strong>Her master, Dr. Okello Okanjo and Remy Bordelon<br/><strong>Collar Setting: </strong>0<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Paulette was heavily drugged but not so much that her mind was bemused by more than the intense desire for sexual intercourse that was brought on by the double dose of Venus coursing through her veins.  She lay on the trolley, trussed up like some hunter's catch to be delivered as a prize.  She gazed up at Matti with as much dignity as was possible given her condition.  Mostly what could be seen was desire and desperation.  Paulette shivered a bit at his initial touch.  She was so far gone in the Venus that she needed the touch of a man more than life itself.  The dildos filling her nether holes were good but she had been trained specifically at the Institute to crave the real thing.<br/><br/>She was surprised when he popped off the cork of the chilled champagne into her pussy.  The quick emptiness due to the withdrawal of the dildo combined with the sudden fizzy cold caused her to buck in surprise and grunt around the ball gag filling her mouth.  She jerked painfully in her bonds before settling back down to watch him watch her.  This one was different than Dr. Okanjo, that was for certain but how he would use her and master her was yet to come.<br/><br/>Paulette gasped a bit as the ball gag was removed.  The sudden loss of pressure caused her to choke for just a moment before she mastered herself.  Even while she drooled uncontrollably she raised her head a bit and moved back so he could place the saucer of champagne.  As he spoke of his past life she attempted to drink from the saucer.  The constant flow of her drool and sexual juices was dehydrating and she had a fierce thirst that overcame any reluctance to drink like she was his little cat.  Still, she did not let her thirst or the difficulty drinking or even her public exposure on the balcony interfere with her rapt attentiveness.  Paulette watched and listened with a sense of deep interest that came through in her intelligent, expressive eyes despite the haze of the drugs.<br/><br/>He was a man of depths and contradictions it seemed.  He was certainly no stranger to the keeping and control of a slave.  She detected none of the hesitation that some men and free women had around their slaves.  No, this one was utterly confident of his ownership of her body and from his touch had a deep understanding of a woman's body.  Couple that with his desire for a woman's company and not just any woman but a singer, an artiste and collaborator and she could tell things would be very, very complicated.  This one would demand all of her wits and will power to maintain her independence, at least in a core before she sought those few months of freedom remaining on her account.<br/><br/>Her long, slender neck arched as his hands gripped her hair.  Paulette stiffened as well in pain as he gripped her nipple just right.  A slight moan escaped her lips at his touch as a long servitude and partnership of pain flashed before her eyes.  At his words she shifted and listened to him as he recited the words of the song.  Even in pain, drugged and laid out on a rolling table her trained ear caught the rhythm and underlying melody in his words.  Matti was an accomplished, professional musician and his words were so phrased to allow her to hear the music behind them.<br/><br/>Paulette took a deep, shuddering breath and let the pain in her breast fade from her consciousness as she prepared to sing for him.  It took her a few seconds to center her focus and feel the path that the words would take over her tongue and into music.  She glanced up at him and met Matti's eyes as she sang in a low, soft voice that while blurred by the drug in her mouth utilized her lower range in a soft, poignant tone.<br/><em><br/>Being your slave, what should I do but tend<br/>Upon the hours and times of your desire?</em><br/><br/>The first lines of the song were soft and plaintive, almost with a soulful feel like the slave melodies of the American South.  Her voice started with a quaver but found itself by the second line.<br/><br/><em>I have no precious time at all to spend,<br/>Nor services to do, till you require...</em><br/><br/>For the last lines her voice rose into a higher register but stayed soft and plaintive.  There was a deep, quiet strength to her words that spoke of a desire to perform her very best yet maintain some sense of self and choice.