CHAPTER
10 - "COMMANDER"
DICK CHENEY & REAGAN’S "HANDS ON MIND-CONTROL DEMONSTRATIONS"
Please note: In order to maintain the integrity of documenting my
experiences using precise and photographic detail, I have recorded events and
quotes as they occurred in reality. Please excuse any offensive and foul
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 role."
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 throat.1
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 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 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 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.
1 My
jaw is permanently damaged From Cheney. I have chronic TMJ.