Hey wvsurvivor
Yeah, I hear that very clearly about "if you hurt a kid". It is such a big difference with me in that I never got angry getting the shit beat out of me like during the movies or the abduction. I was just very hurt and scared. I saw the anger when you would be taken and passed around and you could do nothing about it. Or when you were faced with juvie by the cop who happened to at first be thought of as your savior but then realized that was not the case and must have made you even angrier. That's why I asked you if you ever watched the movie "Sleepers". It was all about how 4 kids were treated in juvie and how 1/2 turned out to be hitmen and the other two law-abiding citizens with good jobs. But the idea of revenge was all on the tips of their tongues. This is why I wanted to watch it again but there was one scene that I don't remember ever seeing before that put me into a full-fledged nose dive. I'm still shaking a little from that. But I saw that movie before I had my breakdown in 2011. I didn't want to watch it because of the kids getting raped but I wanted to see the revenge part. That seems the only way I could get satisfaction. But I couldn't get mad for some reason and I guess that's the same reason I still cannot call papasan an abuser although he sold me from the age of 10-24.
Your talking that the main guard in the movies is a real molester? If yes I can imagine who that is. Was he ever convicted or did he walk?
I was the type of kid that if I was badly treated by a john I would cry but I don't remember wanting to cut his balls off. I would want it to stop but I wouldn't get mad. I might say I hate the guy but not the same hate I saw in you when you were being passed around. I would think that your hate is more normal than the way I handled my shit. I'm sure that's my problem now.
When I found out that someone I knew who worked in the school system of which my kids went to I went crazy. I had known that guy for 30 years. I had to know if my kids were touched in any way. It was the only thing on my mind. They were all grown up and most married by then but I felt at that moment I had to find out if they were touched. I had only one thing on my mind and that was "were my kids ever touched". If I had found out that any of them were I would have killed myself for failing to protect them. I only got mad at a congressman for making him move out of the country. That made me angry. I told my T that I wanted to write him a letter calling him out on that and my T said that he will deny everything. I spoke to my kids and they all knew what he was doing and he paid kids to have sex with him. He did many hundreds of kids during his lifetime. I knew the guy but we weren't friends like we wouldn't play cards together but when we saw each other in the street we would stop and BS with one another. I would have killed myself because I couldn't protect my kids but I didn't get crazy angry and want to kill that scumbag. This guy had molested kids in numerous schools for over 30 years. He probably molested while he was in school. He had even brought some into the village court at night and fucked with them so he was a first-class abuser. What bothers me is that I should have felt like you but instead, I wanted to kill myself. I'm not even saying if they were buggered just touched. This is very disturbing for me. I remember that quite clearly. At that moment that my son in law had told me why this guy retired I totally lost it. Only one thing on my mind - was anyone touched.
Kids in high school knew I was gay and I was once caught in the recess yard in high school kissing another gay kid. I was a freshman, I was even stripped naked in the lunchroom full of kids by four seniors. I was carried out by the principle into the offices and put back together. Papasan was called because he was listed as my carer. My mother spent the school year in their house in Florida. My father worked and flew down Thursday night after work to Florida and flew back to NY early Monday morning and went straight to work. I only had the opportunity to see him Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights and I was never home because I was in the village. We lived out on Long Island.
After I took off when I was 24 I never told a soul about my previous life. Absolutely nothing. My wife who had come out of seminary never asked me anything. I guess because the girls were never taught to question their husbands about anything. So when I couldn't diaper my kids my wife knew that wasn't a man's job. When I finally opened up to her over the past 5 years she now knows why I couldn't change diapers or play with my kids or do homework with them. All she knew was I was an all American kid who grew up normally. She was in for a shock in 2011.
When I was in the USAF I was raped by a woman officer who was a nurse in the hospital ward I worked on. That went on almost every day and covered up my drug usage and helped with my access to the narcotic's cabinet. When I got transferred to the flight line that stopped from happening every day to once a week. She threatened me with calling the AP's and charging me with rape and fraternization. She had the swabs to prove it also. But she did also bribe me with free drugs. I was a speed freak but my other friends were into heroin so the drug cabinet was up their alley. So yeah, I had my run-in with a woman officer. She used to get me in the ward during work hours. She had me literally and figuratively by the balls.
I know that if we hadn't moved I would have been taken somewhere else and immortalized in film forever.
Were you put into a position to be in 16mm movies? That's sick.
You were shown the movies made of your getting raped and abused. I'm sorry you had to go through that. I was lucky that I never saw any of the movies I was in aside from the one where I was taken the first time (I was just 14) to a house and brought into a room and told to rape both a boy and girl around 6 years old and I hesitated and didn't do it. I was flipped on my back had a rod up my ass and the electric turned on. All I can say is that it was horrible. I was taken away from the house (I never saw the outside of the house or how I got there). But I was still naked and dropped off someplace in a commercial area in the middle of the night. My clothes were dropped off in the bushes at my house and I had to get home without being seen. But the next week when I was told to come back. I was stripped but not drugged this time. I was shown that movie and what I saw was burned into my mind. I will never forget what I looked like or how I sounded like an animal being torn apart. I was brought back into the same room with the same little kids and I was told to rape them and I did. I know now that the girl was not a virgin and I assume the boy wasn't either. But that started 1-1/2 years of this type of movie-making. I could be abused or the abuser. To get me to do what they wanted me to do they would hit not only me but the child was beaten worse. And I'm sure that one kid that I didn't beat with the zest I was ordered to, paid with his life. I had to watch him die while we were hung from the ceiling in the gym (that was what the torture room was called because they had steroid-fueled bodybuilders torture me or us) and we were beaten. He was about 8 years old. I was a very athletically built kid who could take a lot of pain and beatings but there is no way someone can hold out to torture. I am still haunted by what I had seen and what I was forced to do. My beatings I can understand but to beat a child because I didn't do something correctly really fucked up my mind and I think destroyed my ability to enjoy my children and to dad type of stuff with them.
That was a truly brave and honorable thing to do. But could get you killed. Reminds me of the Franklin Scandal and Cover-up. I've been paranoid to even walk streets with people there. I would break into a sweat doing it. I would never walk up to a corner where there were people waiting to cross. If there was a kid with a parent I could not get within 20' of them. I was always afraid that someone would think that I was a molester or that I wanted to rob someone. I feel like a predator, a crook a murderer. So I watch my grandchildren grow up and I don't know them. That really hurts bad.
You mention people of power. I was sold mainly in the area of the upper east side of Manhattan from 42nd street north to 90th st and from the east river to 5th ave. The UN is on 42nd st. and the east river. There are a tremendous amount of foreign embassies and their other offices all over the area. There were tons of embassy employees. I know that I have been with foreigners and people who spoke no English or very little. I know I was with many different races, etc. I can only imagine these days that they were in some way not connected with this country. But back then all I knew was that they were just another john. I never knew where they worked, I knew I was never to ask someone's name or what they did. My job was to pull my pants down and make them happy.
My father never touched me but he also never came to my aid (except once) to stop my mother's beatings or baths or enemas. Nothing. My mother would beat me. As a young child starting as a toddler she would strip me (if she could catch me before I would jump under my bed to safety) and beat me with my "father's belt" or a slipper which was her favorite. As I got older (around 10) I would stand my ground and wouldn't back away from her when she would haul off on me with my father's belt. She then turned it around and would hit me with the 14-carat gold belt buckle. I would back up and walk away, I was defeated and sometimes bloodied. I had a high pain tolerance but not for torture.
I never had that rage that you got. I had crazy parents but I can't even call my mother's beatings bad even though she would home in on my genitals and it was painful but I got to know what real beatings were when on three main occasions. Once as a freshman in high school a bunch of older kids (seniors) caught me and my boyfriend in the shower and rat-tailed us all over especially on our genitals. We were left in the shower and were found by my gym teacher both still laying in pain in the showers. The movies where I was both physically, sexually, and mentally beaten. And finally, a two-day abduction where I was gang-raped, beaten, chained up along with S&M, and finally breaking 6 of my ribs and then dumped somewhere in the city. That one I was certain that I was going to be killed. I was bloodied and broken and two cops saw me and they let me walk away when papasan came. So I never developed the anger you did. I don't know why though.
The few things I got out of my life were the 2 close boyfriends I had. A wonderful naturist family that I would have paid anything to belong to. (That's a different and wonderful part of my life as a child). And the beautiful family that I had a part in making. I would have loved if I could have been involved more in their lives though. But if I would die tomorrow it wouldn't bother me a bit. I looked at my life as a kid as the way life was for me. The only way I could find love was to be with someone who was willing to be with me. I really thought that sex was love. Why, because it felt good and that's what I was told love was. When John's rape you and "always" tell you during the rape that "I love you", "you are a beautiful kid", I would love to have you as a son", "I love your long blond hair"... ad infinitum. I was always treated with many perks, presents, and money. Trips in airplanes. Even had one guy who let me sit on his lap while we flew to wherever he was going. He let me fly the plane and all I had to do was get out of my clothes so he could fiddle with my bits, kiss me all over, and so on and so forth.
I'm sorry for what you went through and for the anger that went through you but I'm also glad that you're able to things like taking down licence plate numbers. I really appreciate you talking with me. But stay safe. Speak later if you want.
