After the golf game, we all went to the clubhouse and had dinner. A lady approached with a camera, attempting to photograph Bob. The men in suits denied her access. People often tried to take pictures but he directed someone to get the camera and remove the film. He commented on how rude people were to interrupt or to invade his privacy like that. There usually were not many (if any) people in places we frequented, unless it was for a show and then he had bodyguards to protect him.

At this dinner, when his male group hit upon a «sensitive» subject, Bob asked me to go powder my nose for awhile and handed me some money. I knew that meant to be gone for a long while. After what seemed like "a long while" had passed, I kept checking back to see if it was time for him to motion me back, as was his custom. Finally, he waved me over to join them and pulled me onto his lap.

Sometimes Bob met with men I recognized as Secret Service agents from seeing them previously with Richard Nixon or Ronald Reagan. After these «meetings» we would often go by limo to a hotel or to his home when no one was there. Most of the time his wife, Dolores, was not at home.

On other occasions when we were with people and he wanted me to leave, Bob would pat my bottom and say good-bye with a smile. Then the men in suits would step in and get me. Usually I was taken back to his house to get ready for an evening event. Bob enjoyed having people around. He had parties attended by lots of famous people. Sometimes I was given as a gift to one or more of his friends for the night, but was programmed to return to his room to sleep. Unless Dolores was home. Dolores was not there often, but when she was, I was usually flown home early.

It was strange the few times I did see Dolores at a party, knowing that I was having sex with Bob and had accompanied him to different places with his friends and business associates. I couldn't think to question what Dolores thought her husband did!

Bob introduced me to many of his «famous» friends. At gatherings, with one arm around me he would elbow the guys and say, "Why would I want to be with an ole' bag like Dolores, when I can have this?" And his friends would laugh and nod in agreement.

Although my programming kept these activities hidden from my conscious mind, later I would wake up late in the mornings in my own bed in Woodland Hills, with burning, red eyes, feeling totally exhausted, after what I thought was a full night's sleep. I was not able to understand that the exhaustion was actually caused by food, water, and sleep deprivation, coupled with drugs and electroshock for programming purposes.

Bob had lots of security at his home in Palm Springs. The lights on the outside of his house came on at night automatically when a car approached. He also had numerous security alarms and systems in the house even a television monitor like Reagan had at his ranch. When I arrived, he would sit me on the bed and he would sit in the chair and say, "Okay, let me hear it." And I'd rattle off what Henry Kissinger told me to tell him.

Bob didn't have all the sophisticated numerical codes to my mind files that Henry did. Henry wanted it that way. I overheard Henry speak out loud to himself in front of me, saying, "I want you to be security safe." Henry put into my system of reporting personalities instructions to tell him if Bob tried anything out of line. I was instructed to report to Henry if Bob tried to access information he wasn't involved in and wasn't suppose to be privy to. Henry said, "It's none of his business."

Dolores Hope was elderly when Bob was fooling around with me; so was he, since he was nearly fifty years my senior. She did not like it when I was around and, unfortunately, Bob didn't have much of an excuse for my presence, unlike Reagan. Reagan could say I was his secretary or aide, but Bob told his wife he was spending lots of time with me to "groom me" for the shows for the boys.

I can remember hearing Dolores nagging at him while I was still there one morning after a party in Palm Springs. He lied and told her I was there with some other man at the party. Not that I did not have sex frequently with many of his friends and business associates, but this time I had not. When Dolores confronted him on these issues, Bob would stand behind her, and like a child, made faces insinuating she was going on and on and on and he was bored to tears. He heard her out, mimicking her behind her back, and then we would leave for the golf course together. But, to her face, he always played it cool, acted lovey, and sent her off shopping or vacationing. Bob called Dolores «dear» a lot. He would tell her he had to introduce me to some of his business associates so I would get to know the ropes. It was all a front, just a cover to use me for sex. Although I did meet a lot of businessmen and friends of Bob's and I did go with him, at times, to rehearse for the shows and do the voice-over tapes for some of the tours, most of it was for his sexual pleasure and to show his old friends that he could still get "the young stuff."

I certainly was never there by choice. I was a complete slave, under total mind control, with no ability to choose consciously for myself what or where I wanted to be, or even to know who I really was! I did not consciously know that I was being used in these ways. I simply thought that I was a normal student and I continued to carry the belief to my marriage bed that I was a virgin.

At times, the entertainer, Phyllis Diller, was at Bob's parties. She was really loud. She did not particularly care for me and just brushed me aside. She was always joking. Phyllis and Bob came up with one joke after another. Once when I was smiling adoringly at Bob, she yelled at me, "Wipe that smile off your face." Then she laughed that real loud laugh, and it frightened me. Bob told me not to pay attention to "that ole' bag," so I tried not to, but she was so loud it was hard to ignore her. I tried to avoid Phyllis Diller's disapproval at all costs.

At one time, Bob's bedroom was decorated in a large floral print with creme-colored background. He had a wooden bed frame and nightstands and a large closet. Sometimes there were fresh flowers placed in the room or one on the pillow. Bob usually had a new nightie waiting on the bed for me to wear and sometimes there were satin sheets on the bed. A drawer in his room was filled with all sorts of sexy panties, bras, nighties, and so on, and he said they were there just for me. He always went to the drawer and selected what I was to wear. He also had clothes in the back of his closet that were just my size. I don't know who bought them, but they always fit me. I was usually programmed to maintain a "perfect size six," although there were times I fell below that and wore a size two or four. My weight was within 99-102 Ibs. in those days and I was 5 5" tall. "Young and lovely," he would say.

Since deprogramming and speaking out publicly, I've met other programmed sex slaves who were also with Bob. Most likely we were all programmed to be the same size, and Bob just said the clothes were for me, but they were available for a number of his girls. Bob preferred 18–20 year olds.

Bob had an average size penis. Sometimes Bob frightened me during sex, when he got aggressive, but he never physically hurt me. He «let» me do everything sexually I was trained and programmed to do, but he liked to orgasm in his own way. Then he would go to sleep. As he got older, he got meaner and stranger and subconsciously I hated him. There was a small metal high voltage cattle prod that Bob would insert in my vagina at times. He used that on me after sex late at night when we were in bed. After that it was "lights out" and I didn't remember anything else.

Bob slapped me at times, if I got out of line, which was also part of a program to stay in line. When I got slapped, I would switch into a different personality and then I would be happier, more «congenial» he would say, and he would lift my chin and kiss me. Once when he was mad at me for some infraction of the rules, Bob yelled, "You're just a wind up doll — a toy for my pleasure, and don't forget it!"