Sometimes I danced, too. I think lots of things may have been filmed without my knowledge. They used dancing often in pornography. Bob would snap his finger when it was all over and I was to "snap out of it," get up and go home with him or do something else. Some parts of me wanted my mom to help me, or get me out of there, but she never could.

Bob would put a playboy collar around my neck and say, "Is this your necklace or your collar?" I was programmed to respond to wearing those collars. When the bunny collar was on, out came Starlite the sexy show girl personality. Sometimes Bob would put the collar on me at his home, "just for the fun of it," he would say. The diamond collars or necklaces were reserved for use with the Presidents and other higher-ups.

When it was time to leave, Bob got our coats from the butler and we left. Two younger handsome men, in suits, who were buff and looked sort of like Secret Service agents, followed directly behind us and stayed with us until we entered the black limo that picked us up out front. It seemed like they were guarding Bob until we got to the safety of the limo. Somehow the limo drivers were always there or close by and immediately brought the car around when Bob appeared. Once in the limo Bob would ask me for a foot or neck rub or oral sex and, as programmed, I complied. This night he asked for a foot massage. "Golden foot award," Bob said. "Maybe I could manage to win the golden foot award since I can't ever seem to manage a whole Oscar," he said, laughing at his own joke.

I was usually one of the youngest girls at the parties and most of the men were pretty old. Dean Martin was at a party one night and he was drunk. He wanted me to sit on his lap. Looking over at Bob slyly, Dean said, "Come on Bob, share some of your pretty young stuff."

I looked to Bob for direction and he answered, "Okay," smiling broadly at his friend. Shyly, I went over and sat on Dean Martin's lap. All eyes in the room were now on Dean. He took one of the straps from my dress down as everyone cheered him on. I looked over at Bob, feeling shy and scared but smiling, as my programming dictated.

Then Dean took the other strap down, pulled my dress down, and grabbed my breast. With each move he made he slowly turned to Bob, asking for permission, "Bob, can I take her bra off?"

"Yes," Bob said with a sly smile on his face as everyone continued to cheer.

"Bob, can I put one of her breasts in my mouth?" And as Bob gave his permission, Dean put his drink and cigarette down and leaned over to suck on my breast. He stunk like hard liquor. His eyes were all bloodshot and he spoke slowly and slurred. He scared me because I didn't know if he would hurt me. Then he asked Bob if he could remove my dress to which Bob replied, "Yes," while the group hailed him again.

After removing my dress, Dean asked, "Bob, can I remove her panties?"

Bob said it was all right with him and so Dean took off my panties and laid me over a table and began sticking his finger in me. I was moving all around and making sexual noises, like I had been trained to do. All the people watching were getting turned on and it started group sex.

When Dean was finished, Bob came over to "rescue me," took me to the bathroom, slipped me into the shower and told me to get dressed, that we were going home to our own private party, now that Dean had warmed me up.

Later that evening a man I didn't know approached us and said, "Bob, you must tell me your secret. You must have something you're not telling about if you can attract the attentions of a pretty young girl like this. So tell me… what's your secret?"

Bob looked snidely at him and said, "Geritol." And then he laughed and said, "You don't think I'd tell you my secret do you? Then it wouldn't be a secret any longer and you'd be getting the pretty young stuff instead of me." And then they both laughed but the man still seemed very curious, like he wondered how Bob did it.

"Is he paying you large sums of money?" the man asked me.

"No, sir, it's a pleasure just to be with Bob," I smiled, looking adoringly up to Bob like I was programmed to do.

The man shook his head and said, "Well it's been a pleasure to see you again Bob and to meet you Miss …what did you say her name was?"

"Weatherby. Sharon Weatherby."

And the man smiled and said, "A pleasure," and walked away. The more that I attracted the attention of other men, the more Bob wanted me sexually that night.

Bob Hope and Frank Sinatra played golf together. When I was with them on the course, Bob told me to call Frank Sinatra, "Uncle Frank" or "Uncle Frankie." Over the years, "Uncle Frankie," would show up as Bob's representative, 'the heavy, to get me 'back in line. He seemed to just appear at a place I was taken to and would let me see him and then quickly leave. Just the sight of him was terrifying because of the violent experiences I had with him from the time I was a teenager on. Frank Sinatra was connected high up in the Mob — very high up.

Uncle Frankie displayed some Catholic behaviors and used Catholic jargon and seemed sincere as when he talked about his love for his family and country, but his actions were never supportive of what he espoused to believe. He arranged, easily and with no remorse, many peoples' deaths, sometimes explaining to the hit men exactly how he wanted it done-at times while he was having sex with me. He once told this guy to dismember this man and throw his arm to the sharks. "Let the man stay alive to watch the shark eat his arm and then do likewise with his leg, but make sure he is still alive and watching so you guys will have to do it quickly. Use a chain saw for all I care and tell the bastard his whole body will be next and that his arm and leg were just appetizers for the sharks." I was horrified but knew better than to even acknowledge I heard anything, so I smiled and acted like I wasn't even listening and went to sexually satisfy him to insure my safety. Frank said, "Wait a minute doll, I have to attend to business first." So I lay there and waited, running my hands in short little nervous motions all over his chest.

After the hit man left, Frank started biting me all over and acted like he was in a good mood and was playing with me. But I will tell you he thought nothing of having someone killed and there were times I overheard him ask for a personal item of the persons returned to him for assurance that the job had been done. One time he threw a ring from a man he'd had killed into a waterway. The water was flowing fast and he told me the ring would be swept far away from where he had originally dumped it. I just smiled and took his hand. I was always trying to please him in order to stay alive.

One Christmas, Bob gave me as a surprise sexual present to his good friend and peer, Bing Crosby. Bing had just finished the taping of his Christmas show. Bob had me installed and waiting in a closet in Bing's dressing room and I was instructed to, "Stand there like a mannequin, without moving until Bing opens the door." Bob put me into a 'stay stiff like a mannequin' instruction mode and wrapped me with a huge red ribbon and bow. Otherwise I was totally naked. A card was attached to the ribbon. Bob instructed me to "stay put," until Bing opened the closet.

As he closed the closet door on me, Bob said, "You'll be okay."

When Bing opened the closet to get a change of clothes, there I was, totally naked, clad in a red ribbon and holding a greeting card. Bing started laughing and read a portion of the card out loud, "a f-k me doll??!" And he laughed and laughed. He laughed so hard he bent over and held his stomach.

Bing took off his tux and put his jacket over the back of the chair, laid the rest of his clothes on the seat and stood there wearing only his black top hat, shoes and socks. He had on the kind of socks that had black elastic holding them up. He kept watching me, never taking his eyes off me while he was changing his clothes. He seemed excited about this gift, but he also seemed apprehensive.