.The Summer of Sam, New York's terrible trauma, was now myrecurring nightmare. Why did I keep imagining myself to be one ofthe victims? As I leafed th...ough the contemporary reports of thekillings and the investigation, I felt like I had been theresomehow, during those hot summer nights in 1977, even though thatwas the year that I was born. On July 16th, the same day that twoof the killings took place. I gasped as I looked at thephotograph of the female victim of that day's attack, a PanAmerican. " You say to me sternly, "You have to be a good girl to get cock."Fires ignite, my cheeks flush after hearing your words.I asked sweetly, "How can I please you My Master?"Feeling your cock move an inch inside me while your fingertips pinch my nipples."I want you to squeeze my cock five times before lowering another inch."Yes Master" I said to you before starting to perform the task.You reached over the edge of the Jacuzzi into your black bag to retrieve nipple clamps and a blind fold. The cool. More

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