(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, Mati Groves<br/><strong>Collar Setting: </strong>0<br/><br/><hr/><br/>As the torment reached its climax it was fitting that I should summon him with a note.  My voice sounded weary but pure and then he came to me.   Exhausted and hazy with pain I sought his eyes as he removed the candles.  Even the blows of his hand against my breasts were a mercy in a way as the hot wax shattered and peeled off my skin.  Red blotches covered my skin where the hot material had burned into my tender flesh.<br/><br/>Then there was hardness, masculinity as I was once more put upon the rack.  This time it was the hardness of a man possessing my body in the most intimate of fashions.  Now instead of a display, an external focus Mati had brought me back  to the most primitive yet viscerally satisfying of acts.  For me it was a completion, a squaring of the circle as the pain ended in pleasure and the satisfaction of his need pulsing erect inside of my softness.<br/><br/>He took me.  I was his.  The sun, the pain and the intensity of my thoughts upon the rack had left little behind but the purity of my pain, my shame and guilt and his need.  In the moment of our crisis I knew that he would shape me as he did his music and play me as he did with his instruments.  I would be a part of his life, an extension and means to transcend mortality as our art flowed into one, just as his seed flowed into me.<br/><br/>I was complete.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Cleaned, human yet still trembling inside from the experience we simply existed with each other.  I found myself fitting him like a glove, the domestic contentment pleasing me, bringing me home like I had not felt since I was a girl.  My voice rose and fell like a nightingale as I melded myself into his life, his routine.<br/><br/>I stood quietly as the woman came to fit me for the dress.  I felt a thrill as I was the center of attention, as I would be a means to truly please him in a way that I had not pleased a man since the accident.  I could feel his happiness and the new life, the bounce and energy in his words.  I nodded and smiled shyly at his works as the woman worked.<br/><br/>Then he bound me, teased and tormented me as my body became an instrument, a part of his art as much as his piano.  My song changed to one of pleasure and yearning as I moaned and pressed against his hand.  My cunt, my nipples and the curves of my body were his; soft, womanly curves made to please a man, to fit against and around his hardness.<br/><br/>He drank, we drank as the champagne flowed.  My mind was exhausted and drawn out with the intensity of the day, of the highs and lows, the pain and pleasure and the sense of belonging carried me away.  Every inch of my body was covered with scrawls, of brilliant melodies and simple little trills equally.  Then I curled up with him as he slept, my own mind racing, tears glistening as I contemplated my fate, the bonds of steel and velvet, pain and pleasure that he had laid about me.  And I was content...<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The next day stretched out in an endless expanse of sun and sea and clear air.  The cry of the gulls and the distant noise of the city set an underlying rhythm that defined her long agony.  She felt the burning pain of the wax on the sensitive skin between her legs yet managed to subsume it into worship of the hardness gracing her mouth.  The more piercing the pain, the more sensitive and delicate became her tongue.  She began to hum her little song, the melody that he had taught to her, the words forming formlessly as she wrapped her lips around his manhood.  On and on she sang to him, sang to the pleasure she drew from him even as she sucked his length.<br/><br/>Dressed and proudly elegant, Paulette was fit to approach the red carpet at Cannes.  The black suited her complexion and personality as she made it a statement of the change of her life from one master to another.  She turned to him and regarded him silently as the elevator glided to the ground floor.  She paused, her regard piercing him as she considered his offer.  Finally she gave a brief nod and that a secret little smile.  "You have my all Master and yet there is more to be given in return for all that you have done.  I will gladly share my life with you as I am prepared to share what I have now.