unceasingly.
Dick Hof was a marine in the reserves. He and his family moved in next door when I was around three years old. He told me he didn't, know exactly how to treat little girls because he only had boys. On certain weekends he wore his uniform and took me to military bases where the men wore tan uniforms. They saluted him when he was around and he acted very normal until we were out of the other men's sight. He took me into top-secret places where he showed some sort of pass to gain entrance. Once we were in the secret place he put me into an empty, cold, cement room and restrained me to a metal examination table. There were bright lights overhead and the men that joined him put bands around my wrists, ankles, and forehead, then turned out the lights and left while they shocked me real bad. They had a screen I had to watch and messages I listened to immediately after I got shocked. Sometimes Dick carried a briefcase that had some of my favorite dolls and toys inside, like my dolly with the red hair and freckles and my sock monkey. When they hurt me they often pretended to hurt my dolls and toys, too, and told me that my dolly friends would keep reminding me every day about what happens, 'if you don't obey and follow the rules — then you get zapped,' and they would shock me again. Dick also threatened me with his gun and said that all the men had them, and if I 'stepped out of line' it would be over for me, so I'd better listen up and obey the rules. The doctors played tricks on me while I was drugged. They played day and time tricks trying to mess me up. They told me over and over that someone other than the person who really brought me there did. Most of the time I knew it was Dick Hof. They told me this astronaut brought me and a man in an astronaut suit would walk in and say, 'I am the adult who brought you here.'
I'd say, 'No you're not, my neighbor did.' So they would inject me with more drugs and keep hammering verbally at me over and over until I'd break and agree wholeheartedly with them. But inside I had to remember to keep the truth hidden in a part of me, so I'd not lose control of reality and believe their lies. Sometimes I felt like I shattered and went over the edge and couldn't really tell what was happening. At those moments I'd pray to God that another part of me was remembering what was really happening because I couldn't maintain myself any longer. After they were through with me I was so messed up that I needed their help getting off the table and then to walk, and the next week I'd have to stay home from school because I was throwing up and very sick. My mom said I just had 'the flu.' All this torture and mind manipulation kept my inner and outer worlds far apart.
There was a cabinet way up high in our kitchen and Dick Hof told me that I could be like a monkey and climb up there to get the little white candy pills that would make me feel better, but I couldn't tell my mommy because he said she wasn't really my mommy because she was born of lower class and he said I was upper class, like my father. He said my mom didn't know enough to help me, so if I hurt I could climb up and get the pills and eat them and feel better.
There was another military base I was taken to when I was about five. A doctor in a white lab coat examined me there. He questioned me a lot in order to check all my 'systems.' As you can see, this abuse was very intentional and very premeditated, with long-range plans and goals.
The trauma was ubiquitous and involved all the people who were close to me, and others who were strangers. Threats of consequences if I remembered or told, made during times of extreme trauma, were buried deep in my subconscious mind and dictated my actions daily. Huge amounts of my own subconscious vital energies were used to keep my personalities in control and to keep secret the activities in which I was involved.
By the age of four, I was taken to my father's friend, Andy the policeman, where I was instructed to perform oral sex on Andy, in exchange for a courtesy card my father proudly carried in his wallet that pardoned him from any violation he might acquire, should he ever be stopped by a police officer. At a very young age, I was subconsciously aware that everyone was in on these activities and that policemen wouldn't even protect me, but that knowledge was kept from my conscious awareness because I believed the reality, as my programming commanded, that I had a perfect life.
When I was less than five years old, my father took me to Long Beach for what my mother was told was a visit to my father's Aunt Maude. We did go to visit Aunt Maude, but really we were there to meet with Uncle Charlie. Uncle Charlie was very distinguished looking and wore very formal clothes, even though this was just a family gathering. At this young age, although I sensed this was a very important event, I had no way of knowing how pivotal this meeting would factor into the design of my life. In a complete nightmarish horror, I watched as my grown father looked retarded and became very childlike when this relative, Charles Lilley Horn, spoke to him. And when the talk turned to subjects I could not fathom, and Uncle Charlie held out a paper for my father to sign, I pulled on my father's hand and begged him, 'Daddy, stay big, this is really important, please Daddy.' But due to my father's own early childhood abuse, he could not maintain his adult mental state because he, too, had Multiple Personality Disorder, with many wounded, fragmented, hurt children inside of him whose consciousness had also been programmed for use by others. And so, when Uncle Charlie asked him to sign the paper, he reached out robotically, and without thought, signed it. Somehow I knew that this event was a very important moment when I needed my father to pull himself together to protect me. But he was not able to, due to his own dysfunctional state of mind.
Uncle Charlie further directed my father where to take me for the early programming that involved machines and told him about the arrangement with Bob Hope and the connection to the government. My father continued to look retarded and just kept robotically shaking his head, nodding in agreement, while Charlie told him what to do.
Elitists in the market for mind control slaves attend auctions that appear at first like children's fashion shows and then progress to striptease acts. I made «appearances» in many shows before I was actually sponsored or sold.
My father took me to a slave «model» auction where I wore a fancy white taffeta and black velvet polka-dot dress, a hat and matching purse that my mother had bought for me at the expensive Stardusters clothing store.
At this particular show where Bob Hope bought me, there were lots and lots of little girls and boys competing. They said these children were what they called «sponsored» if they were chosen. And they said it was better to be chosen early because then the sponsors (owners) could mold you the way they wanted. There was a modeling ramp where all of us children were displayed. I modeled casual clothes, then sophisticated evening clothes, and then sensual/sexual attire and, finally, appeared totally naked. First I performed Swan Lake Ballet in pink feathers for my casual and wore black velvet for my formal and my naked performance was called 'the tiger dance.' I won first place at this show and was sold to Bob Hope on the open market. They put a white cape around my naked body and Bob came up and stood with me while everyone in the audience cheered. Somehow it seemed like a sport for some of these people to attend auctions. Then I was seated again next to my father. When the whole show was over, an older man dressed in a tuxedo came and escorted me to Bob Hope who shook my hand and said, 'Hi ya, Honey. Do you know who I am?'
'Yes, Mr. Hope.' I answered like I had been instructed.
'I'm going to be your man, but we'll have to talk more about this later … when you're a little older.' He laughed.
I smiled at him and said, 'Thank you, Mr. Hope. My father will be very proud.' But my father never came over to meet Bob. He stayed in his chair until the man in the tux ushered me back to him.
Throughout my formative years, I was molded to be extremely sexual through the sexual abuse with my father and others. The personalities that were created from that abuse didn't always experience the encounters as abusive, because that is all they knew. Bob later told my father through an instilled message delivered through me during an incestual encounter with my father, 'Daddy, Bob says he wants me to really love sex and have a lot of it. Okay?'
'Sure honey, whatever you want. You're the boss,' my father answered from his own split consciousness.
Bob was Catholic and so was the part of me that performed. She was my 'inner twin sister' for programming purposes, to keep that part of me separate from my created «normal» reality and her name was Sharon. Bob said he liked Catholic girls because they were easy and he liked 'em like that.'
Bob was always racy until he got to acting old around 1987. I had a lifetime of Bob Hope and his antics, and
