CHAPTER 7 -
After Aquino instilled my base sex programming, I was often taken by
Houston to Youngstown, Ohio to attend the sex slave training camp
hell hole referred to as "Charm School". Houston often performed in
the Youngstown area at county fairs, Fraternal Order of Police
shows, or any little country music entertainment gigs that would
bring us in the proximity of the dreaded Charm School. On occasion,
Kelly would go through the torture process with me.
Houston delivered me to the door for training with other CIA and
Mafia slaves my age, and then left taking Kelly with him. When Charm
School was in session, there were several girls being tortured and
trained at once. I have seen and known numerous girls to go through
Charm School, but, understandably, few are reported to have survived
or recovered their minds enough to talk about it.
Charm School was reportedly operated by an identified member of
Mellon Banking family (Byrd’s Endowment for the Arts’ largest
The operator took the name and role of "Governor" from the movie
Lady, in an attempt to confuse my torturous reality with movie
movie, Governor is the cockney title given the professor who
female street urchin into a functioning high society lady.
Mellon’s use of the title, Governor, was intended to create scramble
for the real
Governor who frequented the school as though it were only a whore
am referring to then Governor of Pennsylvania (and later U.S.
General, now secretary for the United Nations) Dick Thornburgh.1
provided some of the programming at Charm School and everyone I knew in
government operations was at least aware of it. Then Youngstown
U.S. Representative Jim Traficant, was usually present. He
capitalized on his ability to portray himself as "Lurch" by slowly
opening the door and saying, "Walk this way - To a literal slave in
training, this means walk like he is walking-like Lurch, Egor, a
street whore, Scarecrow, and so on.
Once the door closed behind me, Charm School meant I would be
charmed, mesmerized (hypnotized), and programmed to be a high class
prostitute for select politicians. I did learn their way to walk, I
learned when to talk, how to dress, how to sit, stand, and all the
rest. Table manners were not taught as they were not needed since
slaves endured food and water deprivation when working. Above all, we
were taught how to gratify any sexual perversion. Justas Traficant
opened the door to Charm School for slaves, he oftentimes was the
one to "test" their newly learned sexual skills to determine when or
if slaves could leave.
A typical three-day course at Charm School included the usual
factors of, sleep, food, and water deprivation; trauma; high
voltage; and programming. Often times experimental or tried and
proven CIA manufactured "designer" drugs were administered which
produced specific brain wave activity to maximize and/or
compartmentalize programs. I usually spent the first day hanging in
Charm School is housed in an identified stone
historical railroad barren’s former residence, and the basement was
in fact a wine cellar dungeon. It was dark, damp, and musty and was
decorated in classic torture chamber fashion. It was complete with
various hanging chains, a
stretching rack, whips, and altars including one specially designed
for bestiality sex.
As I hung by my wrists, I could hear and smell
the animals in the next cells—a black Nubian goat called Satan, a
small donkey named Nester, sometimes a small white pony referred to
as Trigger, and various dogs, cats, snakes, and others. All Charm
School animals were trained to sexually respond to the smell of
urine. When someone, such as Dick Thornburgh who particularly enjoyed
this kind of kink, entered my cell and urinated on me, I knew I
would soon be released from my chains and led to the animal altar
for bestiality lessons, pornography, or to please a perverse
I was hung by my ankles, stretched on a rack, burned, and
tortured repeatedly. My feet and hands were chained to a wall for
what was termed "off the wall sex." I was taught "Silence" in Oz
fashion since screaming did not produce results anyway unless they
wanted it for pornography. This was implemented with an electronic
canine bark collar normally used to train a dog not to bark.
I was repeatedly filmed pornographically, and always taken upstairs
to the "Master’s Chambers" for prostitution to participants,
including the real "Governor" of Charm School, then Pennsylvania
Governor Dick Thomburgh, Congressman Jim Traficant,2 Lt. Col.
Michael Aquino, and others. When Kelly was with me, she endured the
same and we were forced to see each other physically tortured as
further psychological trauma. This was to ensure I could never
remember the who, what, when, or where of our bizarre
enslavement. This is what is sometimes referred to as
In spite of the deliberately created amnesic blocks, I developed a
sub-conscious sympathetic understanding for other Charm School
slaves that extended outside the walls of this man-made hell. This
understanding emanated from the depths of my being, creating a
compassion for other mind-control victims mat compels me to give
voice to their silent pleas for help to this day.
I became close friends with one such victim, who must remain
anonymous in order to survive to eventually recover. This beautiful
blonde and I had numerous opportunities to be together throughout
the years, as Houston’s government sponsored travels routinely took
him into her home state of Pennsylvania while Dick Thomburgh was
My friend and I were photographed together for Larry Flynt’s
commercial pornography publications, and featured in the illicit
films that contributed to funding CIA covert operations. In addition
to this, she and I were able to spend two weeks together when her
husband/handler traveled to Houston’s farm in Tennessee for
instructions on handling his new "bride".
I was "made of honor" for my friend’s "wedding," which was no more
a marriage than mine to Houston. As was customary with Project
Monarch slaves, her marriage to her handler equated to marriage to
her mind-control owner, U.S. Senator Arlen Spector.
The "wedding" I was forced to participate in was for pornography
purposes only, and it took place in Arlen Spector’s Conneaut Lake
house in Pennsylvania.
Spector’s stone house was located in a wooded, remote setting and
was masculine in decor. Side rooms were either designated for
perverse sex or were furnished with antiquated NASA virtual reality
and programming equipment. The musty smell of Spector’s playhouse was
overpowered by the scent of roses, which he symbolically presented
to his slave on their "wedding" day.
My friend’s "wedding" photos included Catholic themes, and the
crucifix featured was rose cut crystal similar to the one I received
Regardless of how this girl was depicted, her innate morality was
apparent to me. She and I were referred to as "minor/mere cats," due
to the similarity of our victimizations. Like me, she was controlled
through manipulation of her religious beliefs and maternal
instincts. The delicate rose tattooed on her left wrist signifying
her role in government operations did not detract from her high class
projection any more than Spector’s immorality could mar her innate
goodness. Once Arlen Spector officially became this slave’s owner,
her Charm School status rose to "Presidential Model".
In addition to Charm School, I endured extensive programming to
prepare me for future operations. Houston was often booked into
Oklahoma fairs, Masonic Lodges, F.O.P. Conventions, and so on, in
order that I be back in the vicinity of Tinker Air Force Base for
My Tinker-Belle conditioning further
enhanced my photographic memory through direct control for receiving
and delivering government messages which amounted to a computerized
compartmentalization of my brain, so to speak. I was also trained in
covert criminal operations, such as international drug mule
transactions for funding the Pentagon’s and CIA’s Black Ops Budgets.
Houston’s CIA orchestrated travels in the country music industry led
me to a TOP SECRET military/NASA installation at Offit Air Force Base
in Nebraska. The "you can run, but you can’t hide"3 conditioning was
deeply ingrained in my mind there through a technique that was later
used on Kelly, as well as on other mind-control slaves, I was taken
underground to a so-called ’secret’ circular room where the walls
were covered with numerous screens showing satellite pictures from
around the world.
These satellites are referred to as the "Eye in
the Sky". An Air Force official explained to me that my every move
"could be monitored via satellite". On a separate four-screen viewer,
he demonstrated what in retrospect was a contrived pre-recorded
slide show, with the scenes changing as rapidly as he spoke and typed
it into the computer.
"Where will you run?" he asked me. "To the Arctic? The
Antarctic? Brazil? The mountains? The desert? The prairies? The hills
of Afghanistan? The city of Kabul? Devil’s Tower (Wyoming)? Would
you try to run to Cuba and live among our enemies? We can find you
there. There is truly no place to run and no place to hide.
Senate (the picture was of Byrd)? The White House? Or to your own
backyard? (My father was depicted waving from his front door,
cupping his hands over his mouth saying, "come back" just like Aunt Em in The Wizard Of Oz.) "The moon? We got you covered. You can
but you can’t hide."
This had been sufficient to convince me in
my suggestible stale that my every move could be monitored.
During the course of my training/conditioning, I was routinely
prostituted to Senator Byrd in Washington, D.C., at the West Virginia
State Fair, NASA in Huntsville, Alabama, and at the Opryland Hotel in
Nashville, Tennessee. One such night when 1 was to be prostituted to
Byrd at Opryland Hotel, Lt. Colonel Aquino was scheduled to join him
in perversely assaulting me. Much to my horror, Aquino arrived early,
in full army dress uniform, backstage at the Grand Ol’ Opry.
saw Aquino talking with the Vatican based Project Monarch slave
runner, Kris Kristopherson,4 whom I had known since 1979,
my personality programmed for Opry events "short circuited". Under
circumstances such as this, a multiple without programming would
have switched personalities autogenic ally, whereas I could only
switch upon command, I backed away, dazed, right into a soft drink
machine. Kristopherson saw me as I backed further between the wall
and the machine.
"What are you doing in there, little lady?" Kristopherson asked.
Colonel wants to see you".
Aquino had walked over and sarcastically asked, "What are you doing
in those machine wires? That could very well be a shocking experience
All experiences with Aquino or Kristopherson resulted in
high voltage electric shock torture, and apparently neither had any
regard for human life.5 Aquino used the opportunity to reinforce his
belief that I "had no where to run, nowhere to hide" from his
"power"- his stun gun.
While I untangled myself from the wires, Kristopherson and
Aquino continued their banter at my expense, Kristopherson held up
his key ring and jingled it, catching my undivided attention as
conditioned, while he told Aquino, "You’re gonna need the Keys to
the Kingdom to work with this one right here."
"Keys to the Kingdom," of course, referred to my previously
instilled (Enter/Inter) "Inner-dimensional" Catholic programmed
personalities. Since Aquino was my primary mind-control programmer
at the time, Kristopherson was informing Aquino of programs
previously instilled in childhood via the "Rite to Remain Silent".
By jingling the keys, he was demonstrating his control over me and
his momentary edge on Aquino.
"I got ’em," Kristopherson was saying as he jingled the keys. "She’s
mine unless you wanna play ball. Besides, you have to. The Byrd sent
"I’ve been expecting you," Aquino said with a smile.
that night proved that Aquino had been supplied the keys to my
previously established Jesuit based programming, which he and Byrd
used and altered to suit their own perversions.
Byrd monitored all of my programming "progress," and often tortured
me with his whip and pocketknife. He picked up where my mother left
off, to destroy any self-esteem I might have inadvertently
developed. He said,
"There is no place for you to turn because if
you could think to talk no one would ever believe I would have
anything to do with the likes of you."
He often threatened me that I
was considered "disposable" because, after all,
Presidential Model, Marilyn Monroe, was killed right in front of the
public eye and no one knew what happened."
Byrd’s threats and cruelty were unnecessary as I could no longer
think to seek help anyway, but he loved to hear himself talk and
would often drone on and on and on in his infamous long-winded
recitations, while I was photographically recording every word he
He detailed the inner operational structure of the world
domination effort, including psychological warfare strategies, and
explained how he had and would utilize his "expert" knowledge of the
Constitution to manipulate it and the so-called U.S. Justice System,
and more. His loose lips provided me yet another means of
surviving and staying a step ahead of "the game" once Kelly and I
were rescued from our mind-con trolled existence.
Senator Byrd revealed his "justifications" for criminal activity to
me as well. He used me as a sounding board even though he knew I was
incapable of input or response. He rehearsed in keeping with his
motto "The only way we can fail, is to fail to think of an excuse."
Byrd "justified" mind-control atrocities as a means of thrusting
mankind into accelerated evolution, according to the Neo-Nazi
principles to which he adhered. He "justified" manipulating
mankind’s religion to bring about the prophesied biblical "world
peace" through the "only means available"—total
mind control in
the New World Order.
"After all," he proclaimed,
Pope and Mormon Prophet know this is the only way to peace and
they cooperate fully with The Project."
Byrd also "justified" my victimization by saying, "You lost your
mind anyway, and at least you have destiny and purpose now that it’s
mine." Our country’s involvement in drug distribution, pornography,
and white slavery was justified" as a means of "gaining control of
all illegal activities world wide" to fund Black Budget covert
activity that would "bring about world peace through world dominance
and total control".
He adhered to the belief that,
"95% of the
(world’s) people WANT to be led by the 5%", and claimed this can be
proven because "the 95% DO NOT WANT TO KNOW what really goes on in
Byrd believed that in order for this world to
survive, mankind must take a "giant step in evolution through
creating a superior race".
To create this "superior race," Byrd
believed in the Nazi and KKK principles of,
underprivileged races and cultures" through genocide, to alter
genetics and breed "the more gifted-the blondes of this world".
As Byrd’s captive audience (literally), I absorbed information that
the other so-called masterminds behind the New World Order would
never have revealed for security reasons. But Byrd regarded me as
"his" object, a game-piece that he could strategically move through
life as though he were playing a chess game. He perceived me as
totally under his control with no possibility of my ever being
rescued, surviving, and recovering my mind and memory. Byrd likely
would have talked to a post, and I filled the role as his silent
My CIA Operative mind-control handler, Alex Houston was often
scheduled to perform at the Swiss Villa Amphitheatre in Lampe,
Missouri, which is yet another installation where I was programmed.
Swiss Villa was a cover for a CIA Near Death Trauma Center of which
there are several across the country. It is a remote, high security
resort, enclosed with military barbed wire fences, that swings its
guarded gate open to the local public for country music concerts.
small Amphitheatre covers the covert activities occurring inside,
which includes U.S. Government CIA cocaine and heroin distribution
operations and mind-control projects.
Swiss Villa, like the Mount Shasta, California compound, was also
used as a training and operations camp for
the Shadow Government’s
paramilitary projects referred to by Senator Inouye (D. HI). I
learned that this not-so-secret military buildup, sanctioned by
corrupt members of our government, consisted of special forces
trained robotic soldiers, numerous black unmarked helicopters, and
the highest technological advancements in TOP SECRET weaponry and
"Star Wars" electro magnetic mind-control equipment. These
paramilitary compounds were intended for global policing of the New
World Order through the Multi-Jurisdictional Police Force.
"A Most Dangerous Game" was often played at Swiss Villa and
involved CIA agents, politicians, and others who would attend the
resort just for the sport of hunting humans. Kelly and I both were
hunted at Swiss Villa. The tortures and rape after being caught were
extensive and sufficiently traumatized our minds for ensuing
programming, as well as for creating memory compartmentalization for
the high level operations we witnessed behind the villa’s patrolled
It was at Swiss Villa that I was taught "THE Most Dangerous
Game" was one where a slave tried to escape and reveal what he or
she had learned. If the hunters could not catch and stop the slave,
black helicopters patrolling the area would. And if all else failed,
the "Eye in the Sky" would locate him or her, and a torturous death
was supposedly imminent.
According to my abusers, my deprograminer and primary advocate
Mark Phillips and I have embarked on "THE Most Dangerous Game"
through efforts such as releasing this book and turning a spotlight
the Shadow Government to reveal its members’ identities and their
crimes against humanity, Mark Phillips and I are determined to beat
them at their own "game" by arming the "95%" with the truth that
perpetrators "don’t want them to know!"
1 Dick Thomburgh is listed in Houston’s CIA memo book which is now in
my (and others’) possession.
2 Please note that, while still Sheriff of Youngstown, Ohio,
Traficant was investigated and subsequently indicted for federal
racketeering, drug distribution, and Mafia connections. However, he
was acquitted through careful CIA jury manipulation and he went on
to become the
U.S. Representative he is to this date.
3 Once gaining "eyes to see and ears to hear," this "you can run, but
you can’t hide" theme is so widely used it is visible from Hallmark
greeting cards to Interstate overpasses to the lock-in song by the
rock group, Police’s "I’ll Be Watching You".
4 A good friend of mine who remains a victim to date was "married" to Kristopherson on the night she wed her mind-control handler-much the
way I had "married" Byrd when I wed Houston. The crucifix used to
her Larry Flynt "wedding night" porn photos was mirrored rather than
5 Kristopherson nearly strangled me to death with his penis, which
had further sexually excited him, late in the summer of 1987 during
another incident related to Byrd.
CHAPTER 8 -
CIA’S WAR ON DRUGS OPERATION:
I no longer had any mind of my own. I was absolutely void of free
will and was now totally robotic. So was Kelly, We wore our Charm
School smile at all times, and did exactly what we were told to do.
The only characteristic noticeably out of place was Kelly’s
age-inappropriate programmed vocabulary and mannerisms.
attributed this to her traveling within the country music industry.
My public image was a programmed personality that always smiled,
looked and talked like the proverbial "air-head" blonde that kept
outsiders away by socializing only within my controlled
environment. This lifestyle appeared quite normal for my role as
Houston’s much younger "wife" in the country music industry.
When we were not traveling, I began each day at 4:00 A.M. with a
minimum of 2 hours aerobic exercise. Afterward, I tended farm
animals and did other chores, then cooked Houston a large country
breakfast which neither Kelly or I were permitted to share. Houston
would then order me to work to exhaustion on his 100-acre farm while
These chores included hauling, stacking, and feeding out
hundreds of bales of hay to our livestock each year; maintaining
miles of electric fencing; cutting acres of grass with a push mower
an average of twice weekly; busting concrete with a sledge hammer
and mixing and pouring new cement; digging by hand and maintaining a
two acre vegetable garden for canning; cutting, hauling, and
slacking firewood for Houston, his neighbors, and friends; shoveling
pick-up truck loads of creek gravel to fill in enormous potholes in
the gravel road leading to 11 rural residences including Jack
Greene’s; and anything else Houston could think of that would wear
me down. Houston’s exhaustive, slave-driving work orders made my
father’s seem benevolent in comparison. The "best" of days
I ate "like a bird (Byrd)," following Byrd’s orders of 300 calories
per day-with no sugar or caffeine. My metabolism was low. I was
trained to compute calories like a machine, eating more like a rabbit
than a "bird", I had to count every calorie, from a simple taste of
what I had to cook for Houston to semen.
Houston ensured that Kelly
and I never got more than two consecutive hours of deep per night. He
accomplished this through automatic mental "alarm clocks" that woke
us up at two-hour intervals - Kelly with asthma, and me with
panic. These tactics contributed to Kelly’s and my total inability to
resist mind control. Traveling in the country music industry was no
easier than existing on Houston’s farm in Tennessee. It certainly
lacked the glamour that outsiders usually associate with
entertainment industries. CIA covert drug operations had permeated
Entertainers were used to buy, sell, and
distribute cocaine brought into this country by the U.S. government
for the purpose of funding the Pentagon’s and CIA’s
Nashville’s local government, from my perspective, was totally
corrupted by these criminal covert operations. Cover-up, murder,
drugs, and white slavery prevailed. Entertainers usually made n big
only when they participated in CIA operations and/or were slaves
themselves. I know of numerous entertainers in need of rescue and
deprogramming from their mind-controlled existence, because it was
discovered that voices could be harmonically tuned through mind
control to captivate audiences.
To quote my father, "Spies, like
singers and actors, are made, not born". These entertainers have
endured much of the same programming as I to permit them to carry out
government operations in the course of their travels.
Norwegian Caribbean Lines (NCL) cruise ships depart regularly
from Miami, Florida and travel throughout the Caribbean and Mexico.
NCL provides pleasure cruises to the public complete with
"entertainment" like that of Alex Houston while carrying out CIA
operations. Sue Carper, former director of entertainment procurement
for all NCL cruise ships, would ensure that government covert
activities staging were properly orchestrated.
entertainers like Houston from ship to ship in order to avoid the
scrutiny of clean U.S. Customs and Immigrations inspectors. I
routinely took cruises with Houston, muling cocaine and/or heroin
out of Haiti, the Bahamas, Mexico, the Virgin Islands, and Puerto
Rico to fund covert operations. While I was robotically carrying out
transactions as ordered, I was also prostituted to South and Central
American drug lords and politicians, as well as
filmed pornographically. Houston made sure I was in the right place
at the right time and switched me into the proper mode for each
activity I was forced to carry out.
In the early 1980s, this
included passing messages to and from Senator Byrd, Baby Doc Duvalier, my Cuban contact, Puerto Rican drug lord
Jose Busto, and
In keeping with NCL’s Caribbean operations, Byrd adjusted his use of
programming themes to include the mirror-reversal, interdimensional,
Air-Water mind-control theme used on me by NASA and the Jesuits. I
often saw dolphins playing in the ocean while being transported from
port to port via the Cruise ships, but the popular "whales and
dolphins" mind-control theme was avoided in favor of a theme more
suitable to my experience-that of the Sea-Bird-Robert C. (Sea)
He told me,
"Atlantis1 has long been the epicenter of alien
activity. The path is so well warn that there are holes in the
fabric of time and space whereby airplanes and ships, even people,
timelessly seemingly disappear, transformed into another dimension
alien to this world. Likewise, we (aliens) came in, entering through
the mirror reflection of the hole in the fabric of space, the deep
blue sea. Some of us entered Earth’s plane as whales and dolphins.
And when we emerged from the sea, some of us came flying out. Or is
that in? At any rate, we are here. Watch for the flying fish when
you are out to see/sea. When you see one, you will know it is kin to
me. A flying fish by any other name is a C. Byrd. A sea bird. Robert
The drug business was booming for the CIA, and the only "War on
Drugs" I witnessed was that launched by the CIA against its
competition. As quickly as I brought the NCL suitcases of drugs into
the Port of Miami, they were usually transferred to Houston’s factory
custom-built Holiday Rambler motor home. Concealed compartments were
built into the walls for hiding the illegal drugs.
If I drove the
drug-filled motor home on to Nashville rather than deposit the drugs
en route at Warner-Robbins Air Force Base in Macon, Georgia, the
bulk was stored in the Hendersonville Mormon "food storage" Bishop’s
Warehouse. Some cocaine was delivered to a music distributor in
Nashville, Tennessee, where it was carefully packaged in
participating entertainers’ cassettes, for delivery along their
carefully scheduled travel routes. Houston always kept a large amount
of the cocaine for his own use and distribution.
ordered that I deliver the drugs to specific entertainers at the
Grand Ole Opry
and/or at the local shopping mail when we were not traveling. Most
often, however, the larger loads of drugs remained concealed in the
motor home for distribution to CIA drug drops while we traveled the
country music industry.
These CIA drug drops included an abandoned
amusement park near Youngstown, Ohio; Diamond Caverns2 campground in
Park City, Kentucky; and Swiss Villa Amphitheatre in Lampe, Missouri.
I was aware that tons of drugs were being handled via our military,
but the hundreds of pounds I muled were targeted for exclusive
An example of a typical Caribbean drug operation centered around the
NCL port of call. Key West, Florida. Houston took Kelly and me to a
nearby tennis court under the guise of playing tennis. In reality, I
was to meet with CIA Operative Jimmy Buffett, who devoted more time
to the proliferation of CIA criminal covert activity than he did to
his music career cover. Buffett was playing tennis. Referring to him
as though he were to be my tennis instructor, Houston said,
your instructor. As soon as he gathers the balls, he should be over
here to meet you."
Noticing us, Buffett strode over and shook hands with Houston. "Hi,
Jimmy/ Houston said as though they were old buddies. "I, Alex and
Elemer," Buffett responded, sarcastically using Houston’s stage
name. "Oh," Houston said. Never one to know an insult when he heard
it, he continued, "What do your friends call you?" "What does it
matter to you?" Buffett asked. "Uncle calls me Jim. I take it you’re
not the contact," Houston pointed to me, "She is". "That’s more like
it," Buffett smiled. "A little Byrd told me I’d be meeting
Diamond in the Rough."3
"I prefer a Diamond in the Buff," he said, "I’ve got a studio across
the street." As we walked toward his studio, I was oblivious to the
meaning behind his
conversation. with Houston and commented, "I understand you’re an
instructor. I wish I had brought my racquet."
"I’m not that kind of an instructor," Buffett explained, "I’m a
point man for Uncle. And you’ve got an appointment with me. I have
some instructions to give you." As we entered his studio, he said,
"Welcome to paradise," and gestured me in.
We went into the small
living quarters, which may have appeared even smaller due to the
electronic equipment, acoustic guitars, and furniture that filled
A black mirrored coffee table, atypical of cocaine users
I’d known, was the clearest spot in the room, A gold razor blade,
cocaine residue, an ashtray full of marijuana roaches, and a fanned
deck of card with the queen of hearts on top lay on the table.
Tropical plants further cluttered the room. Standing between a
perched, stuffed parrot and a banana tree, Buffett was saying,
West is a key place to be. It’s the key to the Caribbean - Cuba,
Panama - anyplace that means anything to Uncle these days, I hold the
keys. I’m keeper of the keys and I hold a few of yours."
Looking at his parrot, he continued, "The bird/Byrd says you respond to
pair-o-dice, look deep into the parrot eyes. "I did as instructed,
and Buffett popped out the bird’s ruby red eyes, which actually were
dice, into his hand. "Roll your eyes high while I roll my
pair-o-dice," he ordered as he rolled the dice across the table.
Stopping at the deck of cards, he picked up the jack of diamonds.
am a jack of all trades," he cryptically continued. "And I trade in
whatever Uncle orders. An order has been placed. You must follow
orders and go to that place. Go to the White House Inn at the pier.
Carry your laundry bag (full of cash) with you, and see the man in
black. (My Cuban contact almost always wore a conspicuous black
trench coat.) There is a launder man on the dock itself.
They do all
my laundering for me, and will be expecting you. Watch for the
sea-man with the duffel bag. When you see the military green duffel
bag, approach the desk. When he says, "I need this laundered, but I
do not have the time," you say, "Welcome to Paradise. I will make
sure it is cleaned and delivered on time." Then give him your duffel
bag of ’laundry’ and say, "This has been properly laundered for
you". Take the duffel bag. It will be light as a feather. Return to
the Inn and enjoy the buffet."
Changing modes, Buffett unzipped his shorts as he asked, "Do you
like a buffet? I have a Buffett buffet for you now. And if is
I carried out the drug transaction as ordered, the whole ordeal
lasting a matter of minutes. A buffet was spread in the courtyard of
the White House Inn at 4:00 PM just as Buffett said it would be. But
due to the food and water deprivation necessary to maintaining my
mind-controlled trance, Houston forbid me from carrying out this
last part of Buffett’s instructions,
Alex Houston Enterprises was another side business that Houston used
to cover for his CIA criminal covert activities.
It included the
re-labelling of G.E. capacitors for the "energy savings" companies,
Queen Electric and Phase Liner, he shared with his former wife and
first CIA mind-controlled slave. She was a Catholic processed Puerto
Rican blonde beauty. These G.E. capacitor banks were sold
internationally as energy saving devices, when in fact they provided
one more means of transporting drugs from the U.S. around the world.
It was Houston’s G.E. capacitor scam that provided me insight into
the elaborate Long Island docks drug network run by U.S. Congressman
Gary Ackerman (D. NY).4 I first met Ackerman in 1981 when Houston was
booked into the Woodberry Music Festival with known CIA mind-control
victim Loretta Lynn.5
Loretta’s road manager, Neo-Nazi pedophile
Riley, who was also Alex Houston’s best friend, often assisted
Houston in handling me. Riley in turn handed my Charm School
programmed keys, codes, and triggers to Congressman Ackerman, who
skillfully accessed my Alice In Wonderland mirror theme programming.
After snorting a couple of lines of coke, he stepped into the center
of a three way mirror where he positioned me and proceeded to
sexually gratify himself in my throat.
Ken Riley, and other involved
members of Loretta’s band, all laughed as Ackerman stumbled around
the room while pulling his pants up from around his ankles and
complaining that he "couldn’t stand for sex like that". The term
"Ackerman syndrome" was coined after that in reference to sex that
drained a man of his energy, and circulated among "those who know"
1 NCL cruise ships routinely pass through the so-called "Bermuda
Triangle," and Byrd did not miss this opportunity to tap into old
programming base installed by Senator L. Bennet Johnston.
2 When Mark and I turned in detailed information on this drug drop to
law enforcement, our lives were endangered to the point that a
foreign Intelligence officer intervened and subsequently saved our
lives through a timely tip-off.
"Diamond in the Rough" was a term used to describe an MPD/DID slave
actively engaged in programming via torture conditioning.
4 Congressman Ackerman’s Caribbean cocaine and Asian heroin
operations have not hindered his position on the Congressional Post
Office and Civil Service Committees, nor the Asian and Pacific
Affairs Committee. It is important to note that, as a matter of
Congressional record, Ackerman openly opposed compulsory drug tests
for all federal employees.
5 Senator Byrd proudly claimed Loretta as his mind-controlled slave
and told me, "I literally made Loretta what she is today, and she is
maid to order". Loretta’s son and secondary mind-control handler,
Ernest Ray, told me, "I know what the Byrd did to my mother. I can
get away with murder... All I gotta do is call him and I’m free as a
- RONALD REAGAN’S AMERICAN DREAM: A PANDORA’S BOX OF NIGHTMARES
My mind-controlled existence became more complicated after Senator
Byrd introduced me to then President Ronald Reagan in the fall of
1982 1 at a White House political party. Byrd told me,
you meet the Chief, imagine him with his pants down. He’s most
comfortable knowing you are imagining him with his pants down. He
doesn’t want formality."
Former president Ford had
conditioned me to dread the Office of President, and I mechanically
went through the motions of meeting Reagan.
Reagan admittedly had seen the How To Divide a Personality and How
so Create a Sex Slave videos made in Huntsville, Alabama. He acted
very pleased with me as though I had participated in them willingly.
Within the first few minutes of meeting Reagan, he was giving me
acting tips to utilize in government operations and pornography!!
"When you become your part, your performance increases, which in
turn increases your ability to do your part—for your country. ’Ask
not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your
country’-your part," he instructed.
Somehow, Reagan’s reminder
Ford’s and VanderJagt’s conditioning to Kennedy’s quote seemed
more patriotically significant than "simply" sexually entertaining
politicians by waving a flag in my bottom. After gazing deep into his
self-professed "kaleidoscope eyes," each metaphorical phrase he
spoke became life and breath to me.
Reagan explained to me that the illegal CIA covert activities I was
forced to participate in were "justified" as they funded covert
activities in Afghanistan and Nicaragua.
Freedom Train is spanning the globe and sex is but a sidetrack to
the ultimate course of freedom. Our job of procuring and
transporting arms is the most difficult part of all. But it can
and must be done. How can a man with no arms fight? These operations
are necessary as American people raise too much hell about violence
already, and it is better they’re not informed of our supporting
wars they cannot understand the significance of."
I realize now that Reagan twisted reality to fit his personal
perceptions rather than to adhere to Byrd’s philosophy of providing
"excuses" for what he deemed "the order of things". In typical
Reagan fashion, he did not perceive mind control as slavery, but as
"an opportunity for those who otherwise would have nothing in life".
He claimed that multigenerational incestuously abused children like
myself, or "previously impoverished baseball players from third
world countries and slums, are provided an opportunity to ’be all
they can be’ through making a ’contra-bution’ to society, our
nation, and the world, by utilizing their talents to maximum
potential." With this altitude, Reagan displayed pride in the sick
role he played as The Wizard Of Oz, directing Project Monarch slaves
That night Senator Byrd acted in the capacity of a pimp and
prostituted me to Reagan. Referring to me as though I were a machine,
Reagan asked Byrd, "Does she run on chemicals?" meaning specific CIA
Byrd answered, "She takes it in spurts". I noticed that Reagan’s
eyes lit up with perversion and understanding of Byrd’s statement,
which meant that I
"shared" whatever drugs were in his system through his urine. Reagan
told me he preferred sex slaves equipped for this task since he, as
should not have to get up in the night to urinate,
"Well," Reagan said, holding up his glass, "All I’ve had to fuel her
That’s not much of a jolt from a "whiz of a Wiz(ard)." Byrd
chuckled at Reagan’s Oz cryptic joke and removed his gold cocaine
the inner pocket of his suit. He and Reagan discretely turned their
backs to the
party while Byrd "spoon fed" Reagan the drug up his nose.
Before I left with Reagan, Byrd informed me that,
sleep with his mommy (Nancy)," and that he preferred snuggling into
Bean, light blue flannel sheets in his nightshirt and ridiculous
"they’re warmer, softer, more comfortable, and don’t snore".
Later, in his bedroom, Reagan accessed my sexual programming, and I
became "my part" as a prostitute to "Uncle Ronnie". Reagan did not
during sex. After all, that was "my duty". And my duty was to please
whatever it took, and it took more time than anything.
(he always made sure someone else did that) and used this as a
"bond" to the
little child ("Kitten") personality he always accessed for sex.
apparent personality kink was his love for bestiality pornography.2
to my handlers, his passion for pornography escalated its
distribution during his Administration. He wholeheartedly approved
encouraged the porn industry for funding covert activity.
Many commercial and instructional (private) pornography films I and
participated in, referred to as "Uncle Ronnie’s Bedtime Stories,"
manufactured solely for his pleasure-oftentimes according to his
using Freedom Train slaves. After my initial meeting with Reagan, I
in numerous films that were produced predominantly at Youngstown
School and/or by his "Chief Pornographer"3
satisfy his perversions. These included a wide range of cryptic
themes, but were mostly bestiality. Reagan often watched the videos
while I was prostituted to him, requiring me to re-enact the porn however possible.
I first met Reagan’s Chief Pornographer Michael Dante, AKA Michael Viti, at an elite Nashville hotel where he was attending "charity"
Golf Tournament festivities. Like CIA Operative Charlie Pride’s
Pro-Am Golf Tournament in Albuquerque, New Mexico, this "charity"
tournament provided a cover for the cocaine and white slavery
operations that dominated the event. Houston and I often attended
such "charity" events, as did Dante, but it was only after having
met Reagan that Dante’s and my paths crossed as arranged.
Dante took me to his hotel room after our initial introduction. He
snorted a few lines of coke, looked me over as though I were
merchandise, and accessed my sex programming. He then arrogantly
asked me if I knew who he was. He told me he lived in Beverly Hills,
California and made movies. I thought he was referring to his box
office flop, Winterhawk, until he said,
"Uncle Ronnie sent me. He
wants me to make movies with you as your ’contra-bution.’ We’re
gonna have a good time, then he’s gonna have a good time,
and everybody’s happy. You’ll like that, won’t you Baby? Get dressed.
We’re going back downstairs and make arrangements."
Dante telephoned me often, professing "our love" through command
reinforcements and making arrangements to meet me in specific places
for producing Uncle Ronnie’s Bedtime Stories and commercial porn.
These locations included, among others, Tennessee, Florida, the
California. He often talked of owning me in the future, painting a
picture of what life would be like living with him. His attitude
toward women was atypical of slave owners and handlers, and he often
quoted scripture to justify his dominance.
"No arguments," "speak
only when spoken to," "take a good beating now and then just to keep
you in line," "see to all my comforts and housework," and "be on
call 24 hours a day when I need a good whore".
He gave me a slave
bracelet—a trademark of his porn—and said, "A woman needs a
It’s a public reminder of total commitment and devotion. A reminder
of the chain-of-command. A woman is tied to her man. No man should
be tied to a woman."
Dante’s Connecticut Italian roots are in the Mafia, and it was a
well-established fact that organized crime and government had a
close working relationship where criminal covert activities were
concerned, I met many of Dante’s associates, and we already shared a
few common contacts who were conduits between the Mafia and
These included Congressman Guy VanderJagt, former President
Ford, then Governor of Pennsylvania Dick Thornburgh, Congressman
Traficant, Congressman Gary Ackerman, and Ronald Reagan.
Dame related to me,
"When Reagan was Governor (of California), we
went to Dodger (baseball) games together and sat in the Press Box. I
got to know him real well and we got along. So, he and Tommy
(LaSorda, Dodger manager and their mutual friend) and I would
continue partying after the game. I brought him a few girls (slaves)
and we did business. Really. Tommy LaSorda brought us together-you’ll
like him. I’ll take you to meet him. We’ll go to games together all
the time, every chance we get. You’ll love that, won’t you, Baby?
You like a Press Box, Baby? Dick says you do."
I wasn’t surprised
that Dick Thornburgh had talked about his previous, perverse sexual
activity with me at a baseball game back East any more than I was
surprised to learn that Dante knew Thornburgh through their mutual
political and baseball ties.
Dick Thomburgh was Governor of Pennsylvania during my tenure as a
Presidential Model mind-controlled slave. He used his influence to
bring Houston into Pennsylvania state and county fairs year after
year for the purposes of cocaine and pornography distribution, as
well as for prostitution of me to him on a regular basis. Thornburgh
was a heavy cocaine user, and was deeply involved in CIA covert
activities-particularly Project Monarch. He was a firm believer in
mind control, not only for sex training and government
operations, but for sports. An avid baseball fan, Thornburgh had much
to share with Reagan, Dante and LaSorda,
I had been giving Handwriting Analysis lectures on NCL’s Norway
cruise ship (my cover for covert operation) in 1987, and Thornburgh
and his friend Chicago Cubs Baseball Scout Jim Zerilla were in
attendance. Afterward, Zerilla offered me a job with the Baseball
Commission analyzing handwriting of their "million dollar babies"
baseball players before they were signed up. Thomburgh explained
that the job may not fit into my schedule. Nevertheless, we met on
several occasions during the course of the cruise, always for sex,
but business was discussed as well.
My programmed mind contained a "baseball computer" that was created
for Reagan, and used by many including Thornburgh, LaSorda, Dante",
and Zerilla. It was packed with the binds of statistics in which
they were interested; the codes, keys, triggers and hand signals of
certain mind-controlled baseball players. Zerilla and Thomburgh were
cruising en route to the Dominican
Republic to the CIA baseball mind-control farm to scout out new
slaves. They talked excitedly about the prospect of winning large
sums of money through gambling on rigged games. I had been aware for
years that many pro players, particularly LaSorda’s Dodgers, were
mind-controlled and triggered to win or lose according to their
owners’ bets and favors. The Dodgers, Reagan’s "favorite American
pastime" ball team continuously won, including the World Series
during his Administration. The Mafia was in on the bet rigging, and
information was passed to certain ones through Thornburgh and others
as gleaned from my "baseball computer" programming.4
To this day I am not certain who instigated the plastic surgery to
which I was forcibly subjected, but soon after meeting Reagan and
Dante I was scheduled for breast implants. Perhaps it was done for
pornography. Perhaps it was Reagan’s preference. I tend to believe
it was a combination of the two and ordered since my breasts were no
longer lactating. In the first commercial porn film Reagan had
directed Dante to produce in St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands my
breasts were still tender and swollen from silicone implant surgery.
My appearance was not the only "make over" I endured after
meeting Reagan. Aquino and I were called to Washington, D.C. to
revise my base core programming to override Senator Byrd’s control
for security reasons. Since Reagan had been shot, he took extra
precautions to ensure his safety which included directing Aquino as
to how he wanted me programmed.
Much to Aquino’s dismay and
embarrassment, Reagan admired the occult role that this Army Lt.
Colonel played for mind-control traumatization purposes, as it fit
in with the public promotion of religion Reagan had launched. Reagan
claimed to believe that the masses were easiest to manipulate
through their religion, as were mind-controlled slaves like myself.
While Reagan had Aquino in D.C., he demanded that he wear his black
ritual robes to a White House party to reinforce the controlling
superstitions of a few South/Central American diplomats. Aquino
appeared foolish in the eyes of his peers. They knew Aquino’s image
was only a guise for Psychological Warfare, but his appearance at the
White House in costume made Aquino look like he believed his own
Aquino got even with Reagan. Minutes before I was
prostituted to Reagan that evening, Aquino ordered me into a closed
side room where he very quickly had intercourse with me. When he
finished ejaculating, he slapped me on the behind and disrespectfully
said, "Take that to the Chief."
Earlier that day, Reagan instructed Aquino how to program me in
keeping with "spin" programming depicted in the "How to" videos.
"Program it," Reagan said, referring to me as though I were an
object, "under number one. I like the number one. It’s the first, the
best, and it promotes confidence—like ’I’ve won’," I observed Aquino
giving him the intellectually disgusted look here served for anyone
with the fortitude to make a suggestion to him, but tempered his
reaction by giving some thought to the request.
Since the "How to"
videos showed the 6th revolution to "ignite the heat of hell" for
sex, no one would suspect I had sex programming under the first
revolution. It would take some modification of my initial
programming, but Aquino was sold on the idea. By programming me
according to Reagan’s instruction, Aquino would be able to provide
added protection for Reagan whereby any program I was under at
the time would immediately become replaced by Reagan’s number one as
quickly as I saw him. This effective safety measure infuriated Byrd
the first time he saw me instantaneously switch out of his control in
Additionally, Reagan discussed how Aquino could use me on
various military and government installations to provide "Hands-On
Mind-Control Demonstrations" of the "latest advancements in
training" by displaying the diversity of my "Presidential Model"
programming. Reagan said the Hands On Demonstrations could "educate
our boys in the military to the wonders of the mind-control
"Hands On" meant my sex programming would be used to
"peak their interests and lock (bond) them in." After all,
"entertaining the troops is a long time American tradition." Aquino
did the programming, and Reagan began making arrangements for the
demonstrations—which brought me back around to Dick Cheney. Cheney
would be acting in the capacity of my "Commander" for the Hands-On
Mind-Control Demonstrations and other covert operations from then
1 Since I had no concept of time under mind control, the ’80s seemed
like one long day to me, whereby discerning exact dates is extremely
difficult. Furthermore, I was programmed to believe that every
encounter with certain individuals was "the first time". I do know
that I had been conditioned and programmed in preparation for Reagan
since 1978 at NASA’s Cape Canaveral in Titusville, Florida.
2 Reagan preferred illicit pornography videos such as bestiality,
while his favorite pornographic magazine was Larry Flynt’s Hustler.
Although Hollywood’s Dante rivaled Larry Flynt for the title of
"Chief Pornographer" producing video versions of Hustler’s stills,
Flynt was unequivocally the official White House Pornographer.
Dante’s covert filming of political perversion for blackmail
purposes failed to gain him the international notoriety Flynt
maintained through his New World Order collogues such as Presidents
Reagan, Bush, and Ford; CIA Director Bill Casey; U.N. Ambassador
Madeleine Albright; Senators Byrd and Specter; Congressmen
Trafficant and VanderJagt; Governors Thornburgh, Blanchard and
Alexander; and various World Leaders such as Prime Minister of
Canada Mulroney, President of Mexico de la Madrid, and Saudi Arabian
King Fahd... to name a few...
4 Having been out of circulation since my rescue did not preclude my
ability to "predict" winners according to political favors: from
George Bush, Jr’S Texas Rangers to the Toronto Blue Jays’ victory
during the Canadian political heal of NAFTA.
CHAPTER 10 -
"COMMANDER" DICK CHENEY & REAGAN’S "HANDS ON MIND-CONTROL
Please note: In order to maintain the integrity of documenting my experiences using precise and photographic detail, I have recorded
quotes as they occurred in reality. Please excuse any offensive and
language, but this is the way Cheney presented himself, I was attending another White House cocktail party where, as usual,
I was taken aside for a meeting and escorted to a large office.
There, Reagan and Cheney were having their "before cocktail party"
cognacs, and Reagan’s cheeks were already flushed. He was in a hurry
and quickly explained the purpose of the meeting,
"You’re the kind of girl who could hold a man in line. (He was
cryptically referring to the lines of military personnel I was
forced to have sex with.) That’s why I’ve selected you to tour a few
Air Force Bases with the Colonel (Aquino) and demonstrate for our
boys in the service what a Presidential Model is trained for, a kind
of ’hands on’ demonstration. But you’ll have to audition for the
Reagan drained his glass and gestured toward Cheney as he
strode for the door, adding, "Do what he says. He’s your commander."
It had been eight years since I had been hunted and brutalized by
Cheney in Wyoming, and apparently he wanted to see how my
programming had progressed before agreeing to use me in Reagan’s
"Hands-On Mind-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 wet l 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
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 Whitehouse 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
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 our 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 hourglass 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
running out" and actually grasp the concept.
The first time I reported in, Cheney shuffled through the clutter on
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
occasions. I was perplexed and hesitated. Even though I remained
Cheney sensed my hesitation and became enraged. He got up in my
poked my breast bone with his finger and roared,
"Don’t even THINK
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
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
the Hands On Demonstrations on numerous Army, Navy, Air Force, and
NASA installations across the U.S. according to Reagan’s plan and
orders. The Top Brass privy to the demonstrations ranged from three
at a time
to roughly twenty. In closing, Aquino always "persuaded" them to
while I was forced to perform sexually on command with each one.
groups were physically painful, while the smaller groups often
unapproved variance from the routine, such as revealing Reagan’s
perversions. The wide array of "switching" my personalities that Aquino
incorporated into the demonstrations, and the vast amount of high
torture to which I was subjected, left me exhausted and physically
days after each one of Reagan’s Hands-On Mind-Control
1 My jaw is permanently damaged From Cheney. I have chronic TMJ.
"POPPA" PHILIP 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 attaché", 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.
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 1, 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 2 together
on numerous occasions.
This trip to Atlantic City provided me an opportunity to talk with
Loretta while her husband, Mooney, Riley and Houston met for
business. Loretta and I had so much in common that our time together
had been restricted from the time we met in Minneapolis, Minnesota in
1981 and discussed our victimizations.3
While alone in Loretta’s
dressing room at the Playboy Club, we discussed a wide range of
topics from motherhood to the White House. We talked about Reagan in
terms of his role as The Wizard Of Oz, but mostly we recited the
general praises we were trained to say. We talked about Reagan’s
"favorite" music by Air Supply, which he had supplied to us both via Riley.
Air Supply’s cryptic NASA/Project Monarch theme recordings
became "life and breath" to us both according to Reagan’s intention,
which locked in our programmed devotion for him. We discussed the
recent Inauguration party Loretta had attended at the White House.
(I was aware she had entertained there as Houston relayed information
to Riley pertaining to his recent trip to Panama to meet with
Panamanian Dictator and CIA operative Manuel Noriega in order that
Riley deliver the information to Reagan during the Inauguration
Loretta and I switched personalities spontaneously as we
inadvertently triggered each other with the shared cryptic language
to which we were accustomed. We discussed forbidden subjects
including Noriega and Byrd until
Riley and Houston caught us and separated us as though we were a
couple of naughty kids. I learned more than I was supposed to about
Loretta while in Atlantic City, but was never permitted another
opportunity to speak with her so freely.
This trip to Atlantic City was multi-purpose, which was not unusual
for government operations in which I was forced to participate. I
had a major cocaine transaction involving Noriega to attend at the
airport; a message to deliver to Philip Habib pertaining to
Contras, and another programmed in by Habib in answer to Reagan;
country music "entertainment" aspects; and prostitution to Habib
according to Reagan’s instruction.4
As the sun was setting over Atlantic City, Houston activated the
Project Monarch Oz programming that was used for high level covert
operations, and had me dress accordingly. I wore real and faux
diamonds to signify my "Presidential Model" business role, rubies to
signify my Oz programmed prostitution personality, and emeralds to
signify my Oz programmed drug business.
This physically indicated to
my contact(s) which mode of operation I was under at the rime. Rarely
did I wear all three indicators at once, but they certainly applied
in this operation with Habib. Houston led me down the waterfront
boardwalk toward the hotel casino where I was to meet Habib, walking
like the Oz Scarecrow and singing, "Follow the Yellow Brick Road".
Houston led me up the elaborate escalators of the hotel to a high
stakes gambling area where Habib was playing cards. The guard at the
door did not let Houston through, and I was sent to Habib’s table on
my own. When I approached, Habib leaned back in his chair to hear
while I quietly recited in Oz cryptic, "I’ve come such a long, long
way to see you, Uncle Ronnie sent you something."
"What would that be?" he asked loudly as he leered at me and
chuckled. I could not respond because I was under heavy program. He
handed me his room key and pulled me close as he hypnotically
whispered, "Use the key. Put it in the lock. Turn. Open the door, and
step through a window in time." The other gamblers at Habib’s table
were getting impatient, and I quickly exited the gambling room.
When I arrived in Habib’s room, two of his bodyguards accessed my
programming. "Chiefly speaking," I began reciting Reagan’s
message. Arrangements were made for the two guards to pick up a
fair sized shipment of cocaine the next morning that was arriving on
a small military "brass" airplane. Houston and I would then board
the plane and fly to D.C. where I would complete my part of this
When Habib arrived, he ushered me into the bedroom part of the suite
and began disrobing, down to his boxer shorts and gartered socks.
Referring to a recent Dante porn film I was used in, he said, "I liked your ruffled tennis panties..." then threw me a pink teddy and
ruffled panties resembling the tennis outfit commanding, "Put it
on." I complied. He threw me a stuffed toy cat on the pillows and
explained, "That kitten is going to keep this Kitten (pointing tome)
from screaming. We’re going to play Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum."
Habib physically resembled the violent
Wonderland characters, especially in his boxer shorts. The hysterical
controlled laughter that rose in my throat would only have
intensified his abuse and was (fortunately) choked back by terror as
he begun attaching heavy rope ties to the four posters of the bed.
On command, I crawled onto the bed and lay on my stomach while he
tied me so tightly I was stretched. He shoved the stuffed cat under
mouth, then entered me roughly from behind and said, "Come to
The intense pain as he brutally sodomized me was outweighed
by a high voltage stun gun as he jolted me repeatedly to create the
perverse jerking movements and rectal muscle constrictions he
desired. I soon passed out from the blinding high voltage of his stun
gun. It was nearly 3:00 AM when I stumbled out the door with the
stuffed cat in my hands, nauseated, disoriented, and in extreme
pain. The cool, ocean breeze helped revive me as Houston marched me
back to the Playboy Club.
Houston knew I had been programmed with a message for Reagan that
I would deliver the next morning in D.C. As usual, he began to access
it immediately. His quick timing somehow permitted him to penetrate
the electricity and programmed codes (designed to keep the
information repressed) and accessed the information. Houston kept a
written record of any messages he was able to access (along with
photos and ledgers) for his personal profit and future blackmailing
purposes, should he need to protect himself.
In this case, I surmise
from Houston’s Panama activities, conversations I overheard
between him and Riley, and my recollection of the messages he
accessed, that his purpose in extracting this information was for his
personal profit in backdoor dealings with Noriega. I understood it
was these kinds of dealings that eventually contributed to Noriega’s
downfall with the CIA.
Morning arrived before I was allowed to sleep, and I felt exhausted
and "spacey" as I waited by the curb for Habib’s bodyguards to pick
Houston and me up and take us to the airport, A small military
airplane was parked in a restricted fenced in area as we arrived at
the airport. The two bodyguards conducted their business and quickly
loaded the trunk with the bundles of cocaine as planned. Houston and
I boarded the airplane and flew to Washington, D.C. where I delivered Habib’s message to Reagan. The bank transaction numbers later checked
out to be a Cayman Island account number.
Philip Habib was directly involved in various DIA/CIA Operations I
was forced to participate in throughout the Reagan/Bush
Administrations, Although Dick Cheney maintained his role as my
Commander for these Operations, Habib directed my actions where
International "Diplomatic Relations" were concerned, Cheney
orchestrated events from behind his desk, whereas Habib was active in
the field as Reagan’s attaché’.
The following Operations, documented in their entirety from my
experience perspective only, most likely involve other aspects to
which I am not privy. In typical DIA/CIA manner, scam "need to know’
information resulted in the "left hand not knowing what the right
hand was doing." Nevertheless, the overall criminal purpose of
Operation Carrier Pigeon and Operation Shell Game, documented
herein, does not change.
1 Riley, over time, owned several slaves.
2 Riley, like my father, Wayne Cox, and other, remains apparently
immune from prosecution for his crimes against children and
humanity, as it is considered a matter of "’National Security" under
the 1984 Reagan Amendment to the National Security Act.
3 I still have the handwritten note from Loretta that prompted out
forbidden conversation and I hope that someday Loretta will gain the
piece/peace-of-mind that comes with rehabilitation.
4 In the course of deprogramming, I found retrieval of this
information much quicker than it would have been had Houston not
accessed it previously, against government policy, and for his own