point he could orgasm. I had sex with him often and did the things he told me to do. One time he told me to go over to the man wearing the diamond stickpin and give him a message, 'I love you…' I wasn't able to retrieve all of this memory because it turned into carousel rides, whirling, spinning, like a top, so I couldn't think to remember. This programming is called spin programming and is intended to disorient and confuse. The whirling feeling I felt in my brain was often combined with hearing a popular song playing in my head, as the lyrics reminded me, 'I'm so dizzy my head is spinning.'
The whole Las Vegas scene was always an extremely painful nightmare for me. I was subjected to lots of violence there from Frank Sinatra, 'to keep all the little secrets quiet,' he said. He was brutal to me. He tied me up, down, tied my wrists together, slapped me over and over, used bright lights, raped me and strapped me with a leather belt. Vegas was never fun. Porn was also filmed there and I was prostituted to high government officials and friends of Bob. Uncle Frank took care of the «security» so I didn't ever step out of line. The consequences were disastrous every time I stepped out of line. There was a number system that measured things I did wrong — if I disobeyed in any way, I was marked down a certain number of points. Only I didn't ever know what the number system was or how it worked. So I never knew if I'd reached the point where I had to be 'taken care of.' It was very scary and I was always confused and couldn't think because I didn't know, couldn't remember, what it was that was bad to do. So I was afraid everything I was doing could cause some point to be added or taken away. They kept score for years and the stakes went up after I had the kids. Then they threatened to hurt them or when the kids were older they put me in front of all three of my children, and got very close to killing me, in order to traumatize all of us, so we wouldn't remember. In later years my little daughter, Kelly was often prostituted to many famous and sexually perverted men, including pedophiles like George Bush, Mickey Rooney and others.
Uncle Frank was younger than Bob, and Bob said Frank could run faster to catch me if the need ever arose. Uncle Frank was the single worst heavy with me — except for Ted Kennedy, Francois Mitterand, and my own father. Frank was very scary and I reported to him directly in Vegas. I met with him upstairs and listened and followed his every direction. I went into a hypnotic trance and listened carefully, and then he would snap his fingers to switch me into another personality, and later on I would do everything as he commanded.
'Uncle Frank' told me who to sit by at the baccarat, black jack or crap tables. He told me what to say to certain men, where and how to have sex with them and gave me a key to the rooms to take them to. These men had two hours of sheer luxury and sex, and sometimes it ended with me soaping them down and redressing them. Sex, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, whatever they wanted for added pleasure. Whips and chains and leather straps, that Uncle Frank often used to nearly strangle me, were provided to these men.
Frank was very private about his private life — to the point of violence if anyone ever asked him anything. Bob had to remind Frank that I was of small stature and told him he didn't want him to 'break anything' on me. Frank could get very carried away. Once, he grabbed my hair and kept pushing my head into a full tub of water until I couldn't breathe and was gagging, choking and grasping for air. Uncle Frank was the one who made me really sick in Vegas. He nearly killed me and knew all kinds of ways to torture a person. I saw him break a guy's arm on the corner of a desk, very easily, like it was a pretzel. The guy fainted. He loved to do stuff like that to people. But I did the men Uncle Frank told me to, and did the best job I possibly could, or there would be retaliation. If I didn't perform to their standards I got hurt very badly. Uncle Frank would throw me up against walls and when my body hit, I felt like I was broken. 'Body slams,' he called them, and I got a lot of those. He nearly killed me after I was with some darkskinned, foreign leader dressed in a white robe with a white turban on. This man was brutal also. Frank shaved my pubic hair for this man. That was also scary. Frank told Bob he wanted to do it himself, so he took me into the bathroom in the hotel and took one of those big electric shavers and made me lie down on the floor and spread my legs so he could shave me. He pinched and nicked me with that razor, and just laughed when I jumped from the pain. Tears were running uncontrollably down my face, I wasn't allowed to cry but somehow, sometimes I just couldn't help it. One of the personalities that dealt with Uncle Frank was tied directly into a system of reporting personalities, led by 'Sandy, my main reporting personality. These personalities reported everything that happened, out of trauma-conditioning, training and terror, with no ability to lie or protect themselves.
Often I was given instruction by a group of men in a darkened, smoke-filled room in Vegas. The man in charge of the security area I entered, knew me, and always waved me through. These men seemed to operate above the law, above the rules, and had connections inside lots of casinos. The messages I delivered were gambling tips, information about drug and guns deals, and other illegal and hidden agendas. 'Number 9 on the line,' was a code I was given and was sent in on many different men with a pre-programmed agenda. I was told a man's physical description and where he would be at a precise time. I met him and delivered the messages I was told to relay. If the man wanted more, I was instructed to 'follow through,' if they wanted sex. At times, though, I was told to 'give them the slip,' if my controllers didn't want me to have sex with them.
These top men all knew to watch out for me and someone was always 'keeping an eye' on what I was doing. My father or mother just disappeared, as usual; I don't know where they went or what they were doing while I was working for my controllers in Vegas. My father had connections to these men, but they tried not to be seen together. They exhibited secret hand signals to each other from a distance. I watched as my father performed these signals, and in Vegas he always wore his diamond pinky ring. He raised his hands, crossed his arms and displayed his first two fingers. Then he shook his arms down once. A man watching him mirrored the same motion back to him then scratched his nose, after which they immediately turned away from each other. My father took me up to our hotel room where he escorted me around the room and «cued» me to certain things in the room. I was given suggestions that whenever I touched the gold fixtures in the bathroom I would forever forget what I'd been involved in. While holding my right shoulder with his hand, my father gave me the suggestion, 'you will open the door, normally, and naturally, wide awake and ready for work, whenever I knock twice.' He knocked twice on the door to demonstrate. He cued me to the telephone, either instructing me to answer it or later on when I was married to let Craig answer. At times my father would bring clothing, jewelry, or props for assignments. In a total trance state, I listened intently while he filled my head with instructions — times to report to different room numbers, who to look for and the message to deliver. My father would 'snap me out of it,' by snapping his fingers. There were times he slapped me to access different personalities.
Sometimes they had me so booked with men for sex that they had to program me to go to the bathroom in between men; I was so robotical I wouldn't remember to go to the bathroom or even be able to feel that I had to. I was just one big act, as I went from room to room with sometimes as many as four men a night. Each man had to have at least two hours. Bob said that was minimum time to have to wind up and then have to wind down (he pretended he was screwing something tightly and then he changed directions and started humping). I looped all around the hotels, from room to room, having sex with men. I was instructed to start at 8 p.m. and then did another man at 10, and one at 12, and the last at 2. At 4 a.m. I was finished. It was a nightmarish swirl of endless men. I performed the sex acts, was electroshocked in between and then switched personalities and went on. They were Bob's friends, Uncle Frank's friends, mob connections, entertainers and politicians. They had lots of friends between the two of them. They nearly owned Congress.
Uncle Frank reminded me I'd be meeting St. Peter if I didn't cooperate and toe the line. He told me about St. Peter at the Pearly Gates and explained why I would be there — which was because he needed to kill me because I stepped out of line. This was in the late 60's and early 70's, before my kids were born. Once they were born these men used threats related to my kids to terrorize me. Bob would throw his arm around Uncle Frank's neck, wink at him and say, 'Take care of her Frank.' That's when I knew I had gotten out of line again and was terrified, waiting in anxious anticipation for my punishment. Frank slapped me over and over, sometimes until my cheeks were stinging and burning like they were on fire. Then he would throw his head back and laugh. He was obviously very sadistic.
Sometimes Bob would fly in just to have a quick meeting with Frank. Sometimes I flew with him for a quickie.
Brutal pornography was filmed at the Landmark Hotel in Vegas during my late teens and early 20's (196874). They used costumes and sex toys, and had themes for the porn that was often violent. At times people were killed in the porn. They didn't kill me because I was a programmed asset and they had far-reaching plans for me.
Uncle Frank could have had me killed if he wanted to. He had friends who killed people quickly and neatly. He showed me what his friends could do and I was forced to watch as they tortured and killed people. Then I knew I could be snuffed at any moment and that everyone, including Bob, knew what I was doing. I couldn't
