. . Roland!do something! … Oh for Christ sake! I’m going nuts… Oh I’m dying! Please!” Then I cried in delirium,“Go... have pity on my soul, I know I done . . .”I did not finish my last sentence, because Rolandhad begun to answer my pleas. He dropped to hisknees and with the skill of a master, glued his lips tomy open cunnie mouth and before any of this pas-sion engrossing fluid escaped, he began to $uck. Hedrank every drop from my burning chambers.He. I was afraid that, with the thirty odd years of practice he had on me, Peter's mind control techniques would quickly overwhelm me.The girls, meanwhile, found appropriate clothing, money, and other necessities that we would need during our stay in 1920's New Orleans. During the search, Bert found the invitation to Peter's Masked Ball. It was in two nights. That was our chance to meet Peter face to face.While everyone worked on the logistics of getting around town and to the party, I went to. More

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