Life with an extreme sadist
The man who abused me was my “handler”. He was an extreme sexual sadist, a pedophile, a rapist, a libertine, and a racist right wing extremist. Leaders in high places allowed him to have absolute total control over my life. He was my father’s handler, had already abused every single member of my family before I was born, and was simply waiting for the opportunity to have a real life child “fetish” toy. He saw me as the opportunity of a lifetime, that it was “meant to be”.
He was granted unlimited “research” funding, both via private funding and public tax dollars, as well as the highest classification, and full immunity. I grew up watching him handle people like pieces in a chess game. No one cared about what happened to me then, most don’t care now.
But I do! I always have and I always will! I won’t EVER stop telling the truth and I don’t care who dislikes it. Where were you with all that passion when I was crying out for help? Nowhere, so why does what you think matter? It doesn’t, not to me, it never will. Everyone should care that this is happening all over this country, all day every day. Perhaps not as severely as it happened to me, but it is happening in homes all over the country all day every day. When people try to fight it, or get away, the victims are blamed and forced back into the abuse. He made sure to rearrange the world this way, so that he and his cronies could rape, molest, kill, and steal with impunity. But people keep asking what happened to the world, it’s annoying.
This man had so many fantasies stored up just waiting to force them onto me. Many that he had tried to fulfill already and came up lacking. Psychopaths with extreme ideologies and severe attachments to fantasies often get disappointed when situations don’t turn out exactly as they desire them to be. But they usually don’t because their thinking is so unusual, and when their fantasy fails their minds can’t take the disappointment. For him that meant more torture, people always ended up dying. I was always pushed just to the edge then brought back.
With me, he was absolute in not only his thinking but behavior at all times. His low bar changed every time I achieve a new high, failing was punished in the most humiliating and extreme ways. So I learned not to fail. What he desired had to be fulfilled with 1000% accuracy according to his vision. It didn’t matter how impossible the fantasy was. He even forced me to figure out how to make it work when he couldn’t. It didn’t matter how sick, or distorted, or abusive. Even when he trafficked me to others, if a fantasy is what they wanted a fantasy is what they received. He may be dead, but some of them are still alive.
My feelings never mattered and of course neither did my safety. All that mattered was the fulfillment of his sick fantasy. The result was 46 years of extreme torture for me and billions for him. He created more genocides perhaps than any other known human, but most people aren’t even aware of this. He was so good at “not getting caught” which he said was his only religion. People believed him, decade after decade. He made it my responsibility to keep him from spinning out of control. When he wasn’t happy it was because I “failed” in my duties, people always died. Those deaths he always placed on my head. “if you were doing you job as my mistress this wouldn’t have happened.” I was literally a kid, not even out of k, 1st, 2nd, or 3rd grade yet. When I could have been in class learning about art I was in a torture chamber learning how to keep a psychopath from killing.
Ironically, the thing that caused the crack in his dishonesty armor was separation from me. He always came unglued when he was away from me for extended periods. The last time was longer than his own mind could take, he couldn’t keep up the façade. The world began to see him as the liar that he had always been, but it wasn’t until I began speaking that people began to truly understand how sick he was. Most people separated themselves from me, telling me to go in a corner and hide until I was healed. As if I should continue to bare his shame. People think they are a success in life because “nothing has ever happened” to them. How ridiculous! Successfully navigate any one thing I have survived then let’s compare notes.
He was obsessed with causing pain. He was, by all measures, a true sexual sadist. Because he was also a pedophile and a libertine this made him one of the most dangerous predators alive. This program had literally searched for the most prolific pedophile and the most vulnerable victim and paired us together. He was angry because wasn’t a blonde haired white girl with blue eyes, blond lashes, and wealthy. He made me work that much harder because he viewed me as so much more inferior.
It’s not just the fact that I survived it all. I survived him, everyone, with my brain in tact. I don’t know many other humans who have been able to that without becoming a psychopath themselves. He wanted me to be, I just refused to accept those decisions. He couldn't’ turn me into him and for that he grew to loathe me but his obsession never went away.
He separated me from everyone I ever loved, and everyone who ever loved me. His jealousy knew no bounds. To this very day people are still confused by his actions to separate me from them. He’s not even alive anymore but his mechanisms are still alive and kicking. He expected me to die with him, I just refused to comply. After decades of torture, pain compliance doesn’t work anymore.
Extreme psychopathy was literally a diagnosis given to him, I met with his clinicians weekly, we all met together, in “couples therapy”. He didn’t hide his sickness from me. He liked the fact that I knew the real him, no one else did. Not even his family, they didn’t have access to classified environments at the level I had. We had experiences together he had with no one else. To him that made me valuable, because of how he was able to torture and rape me while getting away with it. But people still celebrate him and the cronies who helped him do all of this. Not just to me but to more people than will ever be numbered.
He didn’t believe in good and evil, only neutrality. He believed that being an extreme abuser would make him immortal because of the amount of energy that fed into him via emotion. He was one of the most unstable creatures I have ever encountered.
He expected me to suck it up and deal with it, all of it, at all times. Can you even begin to imagine? He felt that my pain was my own weakness for not being able to “shake it off”. He was irrational in ways that most humans cannot fathom. I am reminded daily of how blessed I am to have survived. He put me in situations so dangerous, even with others, that I had to rely on him for survival. He wasn’t just sick, he was very calculating and cunning. That in and of itself is a form of intelligence that he and his kind value above all other things, even family. Being an “apex predator’ is what they believed made them superior to everyone and everything else on the planet. I had no choice about being in his presence, it was his expectation. Therefore, the person that I was had to die. He made sure of it. I had to be reborn again, made over in HIS image. He forced me to become “clay” in his hands. He believed that if he could recreate prophecy that it would make him immortal. “I want to be a God and I want you with me forever. I don’t ever have to worry about having a partner ever again.” Narcissistic supply to him was his entitlement and if I ever denied him then I was being disobedient to who I should embrace as my “god”. He sold this technology to powerful deviants all over the planet. Many of those nations are devastated worst than the U.S. is right now. He ruined everything he ever touched.
He had every intention of living forever, and he will. In more ways than one, thanks to technology. The only chance I ever had to escape, he killed decades ago. He died several months ago, but that is only one version of him. The other versions will certainly live on forever, particularly in the “digital” sphere that he helped create. The “Metaverse” is something different for me than it is for those in Silicone Valley who play video games, and allow pedophiles to traffic children in that space, freely. To me, the Metaverse is my personal hell, precisely as he designed it to be. It is a cell that he created for me to remain in for eternity so that he would always have access to his narcissistic supply. One that he can access at will, and walk out of freely, while I remain trapped in misery. My happiness and feelings only ever mattered if he thought that it would prevent him from getting what he wanted. A true psychopath indeed. Even a digital version of him, for me, is literally Satan. So, how would you fight him? He may be gone but his evil Ai and the system he created to maintain his evil isn’t.
I can’t escape memories, he made sure of it. He left a digital imprint so vast that he called it a “ribbon in the sky for our love”. A digital record of his abuse of me lives on in American Culture, in the form of music, lyrics, poetry, movies, TV shows, and comics. There is no escaping it, it surrounds me daily. I have to learn to breathe underwater because there is no getting away from the flood of digital records he drowned me in for decades.
The worst memories are of the tattoos he gave me. That was the nickname he gave to the wounds he inflicted while torturing as he raped me. I am totally and permanently disabled today, many of those wounds causing considerable pain, and I’m still denied treatment. My suffering aroused him, so he liked it that way.
One tattoo was the bruising of my bladder. Grown men aren’t supposed to have sex with little girls, they cause all kinds of trauma including organ damage. He did this to me in more ways than I will ever be able to remember. But I am reminded when the pain flares up. Sometimes when he abused me, the pain and damage was so severe that I immediately passed out. He would get irritated when I did, so he put scientists to work trying to figure out how to keep me conscious through the pain. People received HUGE salaries to do experiments on me in this way, paid for with tax dollars. But I’m supposed to believe that I deserved to be treated this way because I must have done something to deserve it.
He extracted my eggs when I was very young, the procedure created a painful cyst on my ovary that continues cause pain though the cyst is gone now. The experiments, abuse, effects of chemicals, and modifications created lesions, cysts, fibroids, and other growths all over my body. All of them painful, even after removed or healing they often return. Even when they aren’t present they can still cause extreme pain. When I was in pain from any number of these, he liked to abuse me during those moments. Enhancing his thrill to cause to pain.
When I turned 9 years old he began to sell me to men who bred me like a “thoroughbred”, they themselves referred to it as “chattel slavery”. I have had so many male clinicians refer to me like a “race horse” when I sought treatment that obviously it was more toxic to be treated by them than to not have treatment. It’s so common to see Black skin as a sexual object that it taints every aspect of society, particularly for the most vulnerable.
Yet people wonder why we don’t trust anyone, and leaders in government have made NO EFFORT to change any aspect of the system that abuses us, in fact they continue to deny that it is even real. They make no effort to protect our lives or inalienable rights because we still are not seen as human, yet no one will admit that this is a holocaust and that we are being systematically eradicated from ethnic cleansing. Even as leaders accuse other nations of doing the some under much less circumstances. This is typical tradecraft, it’s called a smoke screen. It’s not even well crafted, it is clearly as basic and archaic as their animalistic brains.
But we’re supposed to accept this as our “lot in life” or our “fate”. That “God” is “punishing us” because we are “cursed” and that it happens to us because we are “negative” an failing to “manifest” a better life. Kids are are taught such nonsense in school all our lives in some way or another, yet we aren’t allowed to be taught what racism, bigotry, misogyny, or xenophobia is or how these extreme and toxic behaviors affect society.
He strangled me my entire life, even as a tiny child. He loved to see me vulnerable, crying to him meant surrender, and pain. This is what made him aroused. If I held back anything he wanted, he simply extracted the result he wanted through more torture. I have permanent petechiae under my eyes, I started acquiring them in early elementary school. In the middle of the mandated school day when I was supposed to be in class learning coding. Instead of being protected like the white children I was taken to classified bases and raped. Teachers blamed me instead of holding him accountable. If anything is to be mandated in this world, those in leadership should be GUARANTEEING the safety of those being mandated. Instead, human rights continue to be attacked and removed systematically daily.
He intentionally placed me in situations where I would experience severe injury that would cause me permanent pain. He liked having total control over me, mind, body, and soul. I have had severe back pain since the age of six years old. I developed a full blown disability at the age of 7 years old. He forced me to hide it, never speak about it to anyone, and he refused to allow me to be healed. Not only did the additional vulnerabilities force me to be totally dependent upon him for survival but he liked abusing my injuries, it excited him. He often brutally raped me after experiencing severe injury, I was still just a little girl not even out of 2nd and 3rd grade yet. By the time I was in 4th grade he had total control. Mind control isn’t about being weak, it’s also about being brutalized until you are forced to choose between unending torture or death. But I wasn’t allowed to die, so it was always someone else’s life at stake, usually babies and innocent children. He kept me captive for my entire life, he died still raping me, using technology to do it but doing it none the less. “I want to die on top of my mistress” he always said. I knew that meant several things but one of which was that he would never stop subjecting me to his abuse, and he didn’t. The other that he would never stop abusing children, vulnerable women, or using mind control to do anything he wanted.
When the weather gets cold my old injuries really really act up. I have arthritis in so many places in my body that all my injuries aren't even medically documented or diagnosed by non-classified physicians. Much in the same way that he wanted me to know everything about him, even to the extent of meeting regularly with his psychiatrists and psychologists, he also wanted me to fully know my own health. His programs had the world’s most elite professionals and they were all paid VERY well to do what they did. None ever told the truth within let alone outside of the program. Some of them would tell me how much they hated me because of my race or gender. Some would tell me how much they hated working there but they had to, often they were being blackmailed as well. I always ended up getting the truth one way or another because he trained me to do this not because anyone volunteered it. Even he had to force them to tell me what I wanted or needed to know. Everyone was terrified of him and his tyranny, and if they weren’t they learned to be.
I know exactly what my body has been through and what is happening to it now, I always have. When doctors lie to me about my conditions, I always know.
He liked the shape of my jawline and the contours of my neck. Beauty to him had nothing to do with looks, attractiveness, or inner beauty. It had everything to do with vulnerability. His brain was like an animals, he was the first person to teach me this. The clinicians were the next, society now recognizes how different psychopaths brains are. He was one of the most extreme, it showed up in imaging but in real life it presented in the most unusual ways. He liked to hold my neck which fit in his hand like he was holding a toy doll. He liked to control my breathing, my movements, the reactions my body had to his abuse. He studied torture to the finest detail. He understood the impact every single action had on me, mentally, physically, developmentally, permanently. Every time he committed an act of abuse it made him more possessive and obsessed. He never stopped because he never had to, no one ever required it. He was NEVER held accountable for what he did to me. I am the ONLY person who confronted him, openly, told the truth, and refused to comply. He humiliated me, punished me, and tortured me further for it, but I still did it!
For decades I have heard people like him argue that sexual abuse against children has no impact, that it is not harmful, or less harmful than protective parents make it out to be. The truth is that he was who he was because of abuse.
I am who I am because of abuse, but no one cares. All anyone sees is the color of my skin, poverty, children and no husband, therefore an inferior human. But who truly is the sick one? Those abusing, those turning a blind eye to it, those judging the target of abuse rather than holding the abuser accountable, those supporting abusers, or the target of abuse?