A different perpetrator

The handler who has been watching me opens the doors to let me In the grand salon of the castle where an orgy is in full swing. I am ten years old and pretend to notice nothing and no one.

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Anneke Lucas
A Little Spy

My charge was terror, and my story was training. Training in a dirty lab/prison camp in Germany under the auspices of a Nazi doctor.

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Anneke Lucas
The Superhero of the Superhero Training

The sex slave training lasted one month. While I have no recollection of the official story of my absence that summer, I do remember my mother pressing her lips together and shaking her head, confiding in me that she had not enjoyed the family vacation of that year.

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Anneke Lucas
Defiance

I was 11 years old and a burning cigarette was pushed out on my arm. Even though I could smell my flesh burn, I didn't feel anything. My gaze was intensely locked with a young man's standing about ten feet from me, who was the reason for my situation. It was to be the last chapter of his yearlong projection that was to end in my death.

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My hero: Kim's story

I have never met heroes like the survivors of Satanic Ritual Abuse I’ve met. The children who bravely faced inhumane conditions, surviving against the odds, grown into beautiful, compassionate adults who willingly take on the hardship of feeling into the unbearable grief of such a past, living with severe guilt complexes, DID and PTSD while holding down jobs.

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An Unpopular Perspective

As a liberal, I have always felt that I needed to hide my devotion, which is a real part of my spiritual life. I'm going to be very honest in this post, asking everyone who reads it to zoom out from the world and its issues, to detect an imposed agenda, and if possible zoom out even more, to see that this world is not the final reality.

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Anneke Lucas
Of Use, and her Terror

She wrote about certain men whom she had connected with, some abusers, some simply powerful men I had come across over the past few years, and how she loved being quick and smart and light to become one with them. Particularly she loved the man who gave birth to her.

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Anneke Lucas
The Lie of a Lifetime

Before the anger, I had spent my entire adult life with a discrepancy between internal and external reality. I harbored a secret paradise of nurturing and love and beauty, based on promises from a man who in his late fifties became the father for whom I had desperately searched for all of the nine years I had been alive.

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Anneke Lucas
The comfort factor of sex

I had heard of a man through a friend whom I had wanted to meet. He had operated in the world in which I was trafficked and abused as a young child, as an adult man. Aspiring to be one of the big shots, he reached a point at which people died because of his actions.

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M Becker
The Enabler.

My stepfather came into my life when I was three years old. I had been living alone with my mother in a tiny studio near Brussels, and after they married we moved to a house in the village in Flanders where he lived. He presented as a savior, since Belgian small town folks did not generally look kindly upon single mothers in 1966.

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M Becker
Posttraumatic Growth and the New Year.

On the journey of healing, the early years are the hardest. The shifting child's point of view, which led to the situation that got you into therapy, creates emotional overwhelm as the reality of the past settles in. The grief can be debilitating. Identifying as a survivor, and feeling the pain of the betrayal, sets you apart from the world, because the grief can be hard to take, and there is often little understanding in the workplace if you need time off, because it's not like having the flue.

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M Becker
Re-Experiencing terror with the purpose to heal

Trigger Warning. I don't issue trigger warnings often, as I expect that those who read my posts are not afraid to be confronted with the darkest side of humanity. What I am sharing here is not about the most violent trauma I encountered in my years in the network and with my mother. This is about betrayal. 

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M Becker
Facing a Mother's Betrayal through Mistaken Identity.

Sometimes change comes upon you, and all you can do is remind yourself that you're inside a process, and that this too shall pass. On my journey, I've been in grief many times.  As the attachment to abusive parental figures loosens, I grow, breaking through layers of denial and delusion, reaching through my pain, to rise and stand tall - a little wiser, and more serene. 

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M Becker
My bouts of revenge in Hollywood, and the inherently abusive nature of power structures.

I think what they meant was that I was young and heavily sexualized, creating a sensuality that attracted men and women to me in their unconscious reverence of sexual idols. Sex is about power, and the excitement in the room was the unhealthy agitation of being near it, almost able to touch it. It's almost like being close to God, only the powerful are playing God in hell. 

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M Becker