There were white limos with Johnson. He liked oral sex when we rode in the back. He made the Secret Service agents ride up with the driver instead of in the back with him and he would have them close the tinted window behind the driver. He told them he didn't want to be disturbed because he and the "pretty little lady were going to have a nice quiet chat," which in actuality was a sexual encounter. Usually he was being driven to some location and upon reaching his final destination would debark the limo, leaving me in the back, or I would be kept waiting in the back for more when he returned. He could handle up to three oral sex encounters a day without any problem. He had his pocket watch on a chain in his vest pocket and would check the time to inform me if we were rushed or not. Usually he would say we were rushed which meant I had to work quickly and get him aroused and satisfied rapidly.

Later, he wanted me to dance cowboy style with him and I tried but wasn't very good. He said, "Don't worry, you know how to do the most important things — you've got what counts." One day he gave me an iris from an arrangement on a hotel table. He bowed and did a little dance as he held it out to me. It was really out of character for him.

At the end of "the Prez's" administration, I was also filled with more mind file information. I was taken to different offices in DC to be imprinted with more top secret, classified data by a female administrator.

LBJ also told me that the White House was a very lonely place to live and that he really wasn't very happy there. He said he was most at home in Texas at his ranch. Occasionally he had meetings there and other men were present. I had to give oral sex to many of them. I was usually there for one overnight and then driven back to town by limo, then flown home. Before I was put on the plane to California, the men in suits always took me for a coke and french fries at McDonald's. This was part of my programming to believe I was at McDonald's in California, so I wouldn't remember where I really was. The fries and coke were delicious since my programming required that I was food deprived before and during the time of my use. Then the men put me on the plane with the suggestion to sleep and forget. Because of our programming my mom never noticed I was gone and neither did I … not until 1991 … over twenty-five years later.

In my early teens, one of the places I was taken to was a hospital in Bethesda, Maryland. Two men in suits met me at the airport, drove me there and waited while a nurse helped me out of the car and took me into the emergency room. I was doubled over in pain, having trouble walking because the men in suits had just slugged me in the stomach. They told the old greyhaired nurse in the pink uniform with the little white apron, that I had appendicitis and to take me immediately into the emergency room. I don't know why but the men put a blond curly wig on me. I had on blue jeans, tennis shoes and a T-shirt.

I was terrified and couldn't help myself. The nurse took me in and waved me through all the paper work. Two doctors, clad in full surgical garb met me at a door to emergency surgery. They told the nurse they'd take over from there and laid me directly on an operating table and put a mask over my face and a needle in my arm. I had needles put in my arms all the time so that wasn't anything new, but it hurt. They told me they weren't who they appeared to be and then they put me to sleep with some sort of anesthetic, but parts of me from inside watched and knew exactly what was happening. There was great fear that they would really cut me open and take out my appendix when I didn't need it taken out. But instead, they put electrodes on my forehead, temples and head, and headphones on my ears that delivered one sound to one ear and another sound to the other. Then they varied the sound volume, quickly bringing the volume up so loud that it was excruciatingly painful. I felt like I would go crazy. They kept delivering electroshock to my head. Then they inserted something into my vagina and shocked me vaginally, then shocked my head, and they kept that routine up for what seemed like eternity. I could smell the alcohol and could feel when they put a cold scissors-like thing up my nose. It tickled and itched. Then a doctor said, "It's in place."

Everything inside of me felt psychedelic from the drugs they gave me. There were lots of colors and flashes of light that caused a very unreal feeling. I don't know how long I laid there. Eventually, they called for a nurse and told her to help me back out to the car. They said that I checked out fine, that I must have just eaten something that made me sick. The nurse put my arm around her neck and helped me outside. I had trouble walking but managed and she delivered me back to the two men in suits.

They, in turn, brought me to a darkened room all alone for awhile and then hooked me up to some of their own equipment. I sat in a chair while they put a band around my head and wrists, and shocked me while I listened to something they played through headphones on my ears. I couldn't understand the words I heard, as they were all mixed up and it made me nuts to try to understand. Then they unhooked me and said it was time to go home. I was put onto a military helicopter with two rotors, one at the front and one at the back and transferred to another plane that didn't have regular seats like a commercial airplane. There were just a few seats on either side and all sorts of straps and equipment on the floor. I laid on the floor during the whole flight.

My mother picked me up at the airport and I slept in the back seat of our Cadillac all the way home. She put me to bed and I could hardly move. I was in lots of pain and was nauseated, sick, and exhausted for the next two days. I couldn't eat or get out of bed. I just slept it all off in a hazy, drugged sleep. Mom just thought I had the flu again.

There were lots of times I was taken to places for programming. They had all sorts of schemes to get me to the programming sites — even getting me to pull my car over to the side of the road, after I learned to drive. I remember how one man told me to get out of the car, while another man pulled my hood up before taking me away in an ambulance to Westlake Hospital. Then they flew me from there to wherever they wanted me to go.

I remembered an incident where I was on an operating table and I saw a whole roomful of women like me who were also laying on gurneys with white sheets over them, and we were all linked up together through a single wire. There were mirrors all around and while I was deprogramming I realized that these other women were all parts of me; they all looked like me but had different lives and different jobs. That's what my programmers told me in order to create and enforce my multiple personalities.

Sometimes there were groups of doctors or scientists watching from chairs in a circular arena that extended upward. In this setting the doctors made presentations on their findings in order to display the research and show their progress so they could get additional funding or permission to do more mind research into areas they wanted to explore. The stage where I was being tested and displayed to the doctors in long white lab coats was low and as I looked up there were rows of ascending circular chairs in the arena from where they watched. Sometimes while I laid on the gurney, they would shine lights into my eyes and tape them open so I couldn't avoid the lights. They blinded me with one color for a long time, like white, and then added in another color like red or green. It was painful, so I escaped like I had been trained from birth to do, into mental dissociation so I couldn't feel the pain. Often they paired electroshock with the bright lights and music or word phrases. At appropriate times, they displayed a picture of Craig onto a holder in front of me while I sat in a chair that spun around and around. They played love songs while they spun me and when I came to a stop, I would see the picture of Craig and feel relieved. They told me Craig was my lifeline and to sever a connection with him was equal to death. Later on in my life, they did that sort of programming with my children's pictures.