Extremes
My controller was so obsessive that he used the most advanced technology to not only track my biological functions but my movements at all times. I was expected to be where he told me to be when he told me to be there, for the precise amount of time that he told me to be there. If there was the slightest deviation in anything that he ordered me to do, heads rolled. Not just my own, anyone in the vicinity or with any first-hand knowledge.
My other controller had eyes on me 24/7 as well, they were in constant competition so they didn’t trust each other's assets. I grew very close to my other handler’s asset. We could relate to each other because he had experienced the same things, was in a similar predicament and had most of the same feelings. We depended on each other, even for survival because we worked in extremely dangerous situations and relied on one another. There were times when things were so hectic that we just wanted to run, escape, give up, rebel. Sometimes he was my voice of caution, other times I was his.
We both had times where everything got to be too much. We took risks that we knew would get us killed because we just couldn’t go any further. That kind of constant micro-managing control erodes your psyche, no one can withstand it for long. We had become masters of survival having to endure it!
We saved each other, repeatedly. Sometimes after excursions, he didn’t want to be alone. “Can I stay over” he would ask. I still lived at home, my mother was very strict! There was no way she would allow it. My brother was suspicious of everyone, and my handler would have killed us both. His boss was my other handler and he was okay with it, but he didn’t have total control. “I’m not going to make it if I go home alone” was his way of letting me know he was beyond his breaking point. We promised to help each other survive it all. I would sneak him in but that wasn’t the hard part. Once check-in time came the situation got complicated.
My controller would call him at the time I was supposed to be not only in my home but in my room and in bed. “Cat’s in the cradle” he would say when he answered the call. Cell phones were new then, the smaller palm-sized ones anyway. They ALWAYS had constant contact with each other and they were always reporting on me. It’s comical that the U.S. government claims not to know my identity when even my tear drops have been measured and tested my entire life.
“Is she alone”? He always could tell when something was off. All he ever cared about was that no one was near me, “yes” he would tell him. “Are you sure?” he would demand. “Yes,” he told him every time. He hated my controller and had no problems lying to him, he hated what he did to all of us but he truly hated how he treated me. “I can tell if you’re lying” he would push. He could tell by the temperature in the room, he could tell by my body temperature, he could tell by the heat signatures from infra-red imaging, and satellite imaging. He could tell by the chemical changes in my body, he could tell if I was aroused. “I’m sending out the dogs!” He would say when he thought he or someone else may be near me. That’s when panic would set in with both of us. “The dogs” were teams of operatives, but it also “drones”.
They were still very highly classified tech in the early ’90s, but he used them to track me constantly. We knew how they worked, he was a drone operator so he knew far more than I did. We knew precisely how much time it would take for the drone to arrive at my window, how it would perceive us when it observed us, and what codes it would report back to my controller. “Something is off” he would say. We made it seem like the tech was glitchy because it was still in Beta. He hated us for messing with it. We found clever ways to hide, but he eventually figured out everything we were doing, he punished us severely.
On a few occasions, we had to lay on the floor in one spot. Depending on the tech being used, we could lay side by side, or on top of each other. Today none of this would be possible because the tech is so advanced, but we were ahead of everyone else so we could get away with it then. One of us would have to hold our breath so that the other was less detectible. If we were both nude our biochemistry would blend enough to fool some of the drones. (He later improved the tech so none of this worked). We would have to match each other’s heartbeat, lay completely still, and wait until it passed.
These are the extremes we had to go through just to support each other, to get us through the night. Just to catch one minute of life beyond my controller's reach. We became pretty efficient at escaping his grip, but only for a few moments. To us, it was worth it.
Looking back at it now, I realize how desperate this man was to maintain control over me. When I was young I thought it was just because he feared that I would be compromised somehow. That was a valid fear. But he was paranoid about me acquiring an attachment with someone else. Still, I thought it had more to do with someone finding out about my proximity to him. It turns out he just wanted absolute control. He always demanded it and said it was his ultimate fantasy. It’s just that he constantly found new levels that most people would never even dare think of. Nothing stopped him, ever.
My young mind couldn’t accept that level of extreme depravity in the man I had to say “yes father” to every time he asked me a question. It’s only now that my mature mind can begin to digest the extremes. I am very blessed to be alive. If it weren’t for people like my friend, I would have never known what love was.
My controller was using the most advanced technology the world had ever seen at the time to regulate not only my life and my heart but also my vagina. It’s 10.5.21 and he’s been dead for several months yet not much has changed. The White House UN Human Rights
Honoring my contract should not be a question, it should be a mandate, for obvious reasons.
I don’t know what happened to my friend, my controller ripped us apart as he did with everyone and everything else. In the most brutal of ways. But I hope he made it out. I hope they all do!
