<div class="floatleft">(http://i65.tinypic.com/10ok2sy.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Dianne du Monde</span> </strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span><div align="center">_____<br/><strong>Dominatrix of the World<br/>Queen of Diamonds</strong></div></div></div>She stands; I do not permit her to sit.<br/><br/>“Interpol.  Such an extraordinary organization!  You offered a service, what? Several years ago?  And flights are<strong>now</strong>arranged and phones given to just take along?  Now, . . . given now, just because.  Nothing more?  That’s it?  Really?”  Sarcasm seems appropriate, a taunting whip crack, to let her know.<br/><br/>“FAI?  The dark beard, that one?  Earnest, so true blue?  No contact with him, what?  No contact for 24 hours?  So that’s over?  Again, really?”  More sarcasm, another snap.<br/><br/>“If I am to do business, should I not expect truthfulness?  And when I am lied to, should one not be punished, disciplined?”<br/><br/>“Might it be time to seek forgiveness?  You’ve never truly wanted to disappoint me.”<br/><br/>I pout and tsk-tsk mockingly,<em>“Jacleen, du Monde’s courtesan.  Tell me of your own accord.”</em>But her whispered name Jaclyn (Jacleen)  is pregnant with promise.  Is her name the wedge?  She bridled at the simple, slight change to Jacqueline.<em>Yes, Mistress will know you, remember your name, more even, if you please Mistress.</em><br/>