Control Demonstrations'. He grabbed me roughly by the hair and slung me onto a black leather chair, tipping my head backwards over the high studded arm. 'Audition here,' he snarled. Since I last saw him, I had undergone Wizard Of Oz Tin Man programming, which he accessed to accommodate his large, thick penis. He placed his hands on my jaw while he said, 'Soon we'll have you purring like a wetl oiled machine. All of your moving parts are pivotal and gliding with ease. Melt into my hands. I'll hold your jaw to keep it from slipping while you slip through a window in lime.' He then jerked my jaw out of joint, and roughly gratified himself in my throat[39].
As he lit his cigarette, I slowly regained focus enough to realize I was in pain. The back of my head hurt from being thrust into the studs on the chair, and I slowly lifted my head. My owner, Senator Byrd, had just walked in and realized Cheney had already completed the «audition». Referring to compartmentalizing my memory via stun gun high voltage, Byrd asked, 'Did you fry her?'
Cheney, 'cocksure' of himself as always, answered. 'She can't have fucked all of Washington' (indicating that no one would believe me anyway, even if I did reach this point and talk). Cheney put out his cigarette and said as he went out the door, 'She'll work. Tell Ronnie she'll work.'
When Byrd saw that my lips were bleeding, he called Cheney a 'son of a bitch' under his breath, as this damage would prevent my fulfilling other assignments that were planned for me. Byrd touched his finger to my swollen lips and tasted the blood (and Cheney) several times. Then he slapped me hard across the face, which re-aligned my jaw but caused more blood to flow down my chin. He took a box of tissues from the desk and threw it at me, the corner hitting me in the forehead. 'Wipe yourself up. You're just getting started. I'll see to it you get what you've got coming to you.'
Fortunately for me, Byrd had cause to return to the formal cocktail party and did not have time to brutalize me further. My face was battered, mouth torn, and my throat felt torn and stretched. I had difficulty swallowing for some time, and could not speak. I certainly was in no condition to return to the cocktail party, and was escorted out by agents/guards.
Before I could leave Washington, Byrd made good on his threat and arranged for me to meet with Cheney in a blue bedroom in a part of the White House so remote that 'no one could hear my screams and moans'. But Cheney implemented Oz theme «Silence» conditioning anyway as he proceeded to brutally sexually assault me.
'Byrd tells me you need a good whipping. But I'm not certain which instrument you prefer, so I brought them all.' Cheney had a riding crop, a whip, and a cat-o-nine-tails laid out on the bed. He beat me quick and hard as though he were releasing his tensions rather than savoring my pain like Byrd did. I regained consciousness when Cheney slid a pillow under my neck, steered me by the hair, and bent my head back. Survival instinct kicked in when he positioned himself above my head, I hoped to satisfy him before he became deadly brutal again. But he quickly pulled out his liquid cocaine sprayer, sprayed my throat, then proceeded to get rough. At one point he yanked my head aside and asked, 'Was that a tooth?' and grinned. It was imperative that I kept my teeth off him because, according to Aquino's programming instruction, I was subject to death if a tooth was ever felt by anyone. Cheney knew this was my programming and manipulated me with it often. I resumed 'satisfying him as though my life depended upon it, because, of course, it did.' This is another Aquino programming line Cheney knew and used. When he was gratified, he flopped over and slept. I had been instructed to leave immediately because Cheney absolutely did not want me near him when he slept (some insiders say he is paranoid), and I began dressing. I was escorted out.
In preparation for 'running bases' for Reagan's Hands-On Mind-Control Demonstrations, I underwent a great deal of programming by both Aquino and Cheney. Cheney laid the ground rules while Aquino carried out Uie programming derail and performed the demonstration with me on various military and NASA installations.
Reagan wanted the demonstrations to include all programming depicted in the 'How to' films, additional programming instilled since the videos were made, delivery of drugs when applicable, and sex according to Aquino's instruction with whomever/however many were present at the lecture. Cheney's personal «touch» to the demonstrations was to have me programmed to vaginally internally electric prod myself with a high voltage cylindrical cattle prod-truly an example of total mind control.
I was routinely escorted arm-in-arm 'Oz style' by two agents to Cheney's downstairs office in the Pentagon. Sometimes Byrd took me in. Other times Cheney walked me through the building, particularly if we were going to his «Bunkhouse» personal quarters. Cheney's office was equipped with black leather furniture, a huge messy brown desk, massive book shelves, and an hour glass that he always used in keeping with Oz programming, to assure me that my life was on the line under his command. As a programmed MPD, I had no concept of time. The hour glass was a visible way for me to see 'my time. runing out' and actually grasp the concept.
The first time I reported in, Cheney shuffled through the clutter on his desk, picked up a paper and began reading:
'Number one. I am NOT your friend, and I don't want to see you unless I order you to report in. Number two. Follow the Colonel's (Aquino) orders, as it is the chain of command. What he orders you to do, is a command from me, follow it to the letter, as though your life depends upon it, because (he looked up and grinned wickedly) of course, it does.' His cold eyes bore into mine as he walked around to the front of his desk, 'Any questions?'
I knew he 'was NOT my friend,' but he already 'saw me' sexually on other occasions. I was perplexed and hesitated. Even though I remained silent, Cheney sensed my hesitation and became enraged. He got up in my face, poked my breast bone with his finger and roared, 'Don't even THINK to question anything I say! There is no question as to what I do, what I think, or what I say, because I am absolutely above questions-especially YOURS!! Your orders are clear. Now get out of here! I have work to do!'
Throughout the next three years, U.S. Army Lt. Colonel Aquino used me in the Hands On Demonstrations on numerous Army, Navy, Air Force, and NASA installations across the U.S. according to Reagan's plan and Cheney's orders. The Top Brass privy to the demonstrations ranged from three at a time to roughly twenty. In closing, Aquino always «persuaded» them to line up while I was forced to perform sexually on command with each one. The larger groups were physically painful, while the smaller groups often involved unapproved variance from the routine, such as revealing Reagan's bestiality perversions. The wide array of «switching» my personalities that Aquino incorporated into the demonstrations, and the vast amount of high voltage and torture to which I was subjected, left me exhausted and physically devastated for days after each one of Reagan's Hands-On Mind- Control Demonstrations.
CHAPTER 11
'POPPA' PHTLIP HABIB
My (CIA operative) handler, Alex Houston was scheduled to perform with country music entertainer Loretta Lynn at the Playboy Club in Atlantic City, New Jersey in the spring of 1985, and he admittedly did not want me there for the performance. He explained that after his show, he intended to 'dress up like a carrot as lunch for the Bunnies' and I would only be in his way. But I had White House business to attend with a different land of «rabbit». Reagan had arranged for me to meet with his personal attache', Philip Habib (now deceased), who always played the cryptic rote of the Alice In Wonderland White Rabbit to mind-controlled slaves. Houston had no choice but to take me along once the orders came down.
CIA operative Ken Riley, the Neo-Nazi pedophile who functioned in the capacity of Loretta Lynn's road manager and Project Monarch Mind-Control handler, was Alex Houston's closest friend. Riley often made arrangements through Loretta's and Houston's shared talent agent, Reggie Maclaughlin, for all of us to travel together — particularly when it involved government covert operations such as this Playboy Club gig did. Loretta's singing career and political ties into CIA covert operations have always been synonymous. Riley escorted her in and out of the White House on numerous occasions during the Reagan Administration, By natural attrition, this put Riley in a secondary role as a «backup» handler for me as he often returned from D.C. with orders for and/or concerning me. Houston and Riley shared much: CIA covert operations, country music interests, Neo-Nazi and U.S. Government mind control, Project Monarch methodologies, slave running[40], pornography, cocaine, and pedophile activities. Kelly and Riley's young daughter were often filmed pornographically together, and endured the sexual assaults of Houston and Riley
