NOTE: So, you military and spy's like this one, eh? For which part: the one about how you talk 'in vino veritas', or the end where I go into the 'authors' linage? Come on - leave an anonymous comment! :)
Whew!
It’s been so long and so much has happened, I don’t know where to start with all the adventures I’ve had since my last writing. So much has occurred in my life and even though I’ve not been a part of my "official" past, it has and continues to nuzzle its way back into my life.
That said, it will take me a while to produce and process all the information, condensing and editing so no “rules” will be broken or confidences or trusts besmirched.
Patting myself on the back for what I’ve done so far, and surprisingly, the “Powers that be” have left me alone without hacking my blog in order to edit, destroy or generally fuck with my missives even though I know that they hover there, in the background, watching and waiting for me to fuck up in my writing.
I made a promise, and this is one girl who keeps them, especially when you’ve worked with (and for) some genuinely creepy personages.
You can always tell, at least I can, when the nice man (or woman as the case may be) asks you certain dancing-around-the-bush questions that get a biiiit too intimate regarding operations you’ve been on but have never written about.
Trust me, these people seem all too genuine and earnest, down to earth people, but under the thin veneer they posit a cold-blooded single mindedness that’s all business.
I posit this example: hang out at a bar near any Air Force or Naval communications center and sidle up to the nice young men with the very close cropped hair that come in for a beer and just listen to their conversations. Knowing that they are now in a public space, they (normally) won’t be discussing work except in general details - you know, Major so-and-so is a dick about procedures, Colonel blah-de-blah is having an affair with airman bigtits – but get out your trusty professional ham radio capable of tuning in the X or Ku bands and rummage around xxx GHz and you may just hear the same fresh faced kid transmitting “in the open” using another rapid fire verbiage and with a more serious tone of voice.
They turn it on and off with professional ease, as do the nice people who silently read my blog in the background. I know, I’ve met and been quizzed by them on the street and at my place of business.
Paranoid? You can never be paranoid when you REALLY know that they’re watching, and several have laughingly tipped their hand on occasion.
Trust me, these people seem all too genuine and earnest, down to earth people, but under the thin veneer they posit a cold-blooded single mindedness that’s all business.
I posit this example: hang out at a bar near any Air Force or Naval communications center and sidle up to the nice young men with the very close cropped hair that come in for a beer and just listen to their conversations. Knowing that they are now in a public space, they (normally) won’t be discussing work except in general details - you know, Major so-and-so is a dick about procedures, Colonel blah-de-blah is having an affair with airman bigtits – but get out your trusty professional ham radio capable of tuning in the X or Ku bands and rummage around xxx GHz and you may just hear the same fresh faced kid transmitting “in the open” using another rapid fire verbiage and with a more serious tone of voice.
They turn it on and off with professional ease, as do the nice people who silently read my blog in the background. I know, I’ve met and been quizzed by them on the street and at my place of business.
Paranoid? You can never be paranoid when you REALLY know that they’re watching, and several have laughingly tipped their hand on occasion.
There. That being said, I apologize for the distraction and for my absence, but I thought that I’d let you know just what’s been happening.
Where I’ve been and what I’ve seen will take some time to process but I’ll get it all out over time, and time is short my friends, time is very short. There’s a storm coming, and before you know it, it will be upon us all.
I do so hate to be vague in this, but I shudder at what I’ve seen and now know.
Where I’ve been and what I’ve seen will take some time to process but I’ll get it all out over time, and time is short my friends, time is very short. There’s a storm coming, and before you know it, it will be upon us all.
I do so hate to be vague in this, but I shudder at what I’ve seen and now know.
On with the story.
Remember some time ago that I lost my boyfriend and lover under mysterious circumstances? No? Re-read “Prisoner of Conscience” parts 1 – 3 for more details. Suffice to say that the deeper within the organization I found myself, the more I began to mimic the tactics that had been used in my own surveillance on the people that I wanted information from, including “Ben”, my handler from whom the information had once surfaced.
“Ben”, to his credit, had actually been working sympathetically on my behalf to gain the freedom of my beloved and had of course left the file in question strategically in plain sight on his desk for me to find, conveniently forgetting as well to spin the lock on his secure filing cabinet before he left; a true no-no and frightening breach of security that I later learned was done entirely on purpose.
That brings up another point regarding the people I used to work with and for: some conversations are designed to be overheard. More on that later.
So here’s the meat of the matter: we Americans live in a society governed and secured ostensibly by a force of laws and democracy. That’s the public line.
The truth is a bit blurrier and what is going on behind the scenes should and would make the public cringe and cry foul if ever revealed in its entirety.
I’m sure you’ve read articles about or seen movies relating to this such as Conspiracy Theory or Enemy of the State and in fact, the truth is more frighteningly profound in it’s scope and measure. I have come to realize that the FBI is nothing more that a brute squad, the NSA are librarians / database masters, with the CIA populated at the top by puppet masters meddling in affairs not only abroad but at home as well.
The real ones to worry about occupy offices at the ONI, quietly running the show. Oh yes. They show up in a situation, flash their credentials and everybody knuckles under, cowering in their own shit.
Since this is a “fantasy blog”, you know that what I’ve just said is BS.
There. I’ve covered my ass.
Back to my boyfriend / lover “J”
He had been missing many years as I worked my way through penis and cum stains while working for A Certain Government Agency, never far from my mind and always an aching in my heart that longed to know what exactly had happened to him.
The papers I “found” led me eventually to understand that he had been held in “protective incarceration” by XXXX not only because of his involvement in the peace movement many years ago, but because of me and my secondary job with the government.
Why? Because I talk / mutter in my sleep. WHAT???!!
Yup. They spirited away my lover and held him incommunicado for so many years in order to psychologically torture him into revealing anything that I may have said in my sleep that would compromise either the xxx program or the weird-ass government officials that I had slept (ha!) with for those years.
Not wanting to tip their hats as to why he was being held, they used sleep deprivation, psychotropic and hallucinogenic drugs in his food along with Basel circadian rhythm manipulation to wring any amount of information they could from his beleaguered skull.
Guess what? They found a guy who was brilliant at computer programming who loved a woman that worked a crappy job as a secretary who had sexual fantasies just like anybody else, except for the fact that she was a champion cock sucker.
After five years of this torture that I described above and without any human contact whatsoever, “J” went bonkers.
Bonkers. That’s the less than polite way of stating the DSM-IV Axis I and II diagnostic sections “Severe depression and schizoaffective paranoid/schizotypal / histrionic / avoidant personality disorders” they had diagnosed him with at the mental facility where I eventually found him residing.
Residing. Now there’s a word for you… “Existing” is more like it.
Half the time curled up in a ball, the other half of the time raving like the lunatic that he had become.
Bonkers. That’s the less than polite way of stating the DSM-IV Axis I and II diagnostic sections “Severe depression and schizoaffective paranoid/schizotypal / histrionic / avoidant personality disorders” they had diagnosed him with at the mental facility where I eventually found him residing.
Residing. Now there’s a word for you… “Existing” is more like it.
Half the time curled up in a ball, the other half of the time raving like the lunatic that he had become.
Quietly digging in the background while working in and around Ben’s office, I came to understand that it was necessary for my handlers to keep a tight reign on me due to the strange and complex (to them) nature of my employment. Not all the Powers that Be were thrilled with the services that I performed, but saw them as a necessary evil in order to keep those “serviced” fat and happy, so to speak.
Keeping my ears open and my mouth shut I toiled on my knees and back for years, saving and investing my money, waiting for any shred of information that would lead me back to “J”.
It came in the most unctuous of ways, and at the most unexpected time, just as I was about ready to give up my search.
That’s when I learned who had “found” me for the job as BJ queen of WITSEC
That’s when I learned why I had not been “dismissed” for all the things I knew and men I blew who talked to much in their orgasm.
That’s when I found out who my real parents where (I’m adopted).
That’s when I found out I had a brother.
That’s when it all became so damned clear.
That’s why I know that this blog will never be fucked with.
That’s how I know what I know and who’s really running the show here in America from behind the scenes.
I was not conceived in the usual way, but was one result of many genetic manipulation experiments stretching back over 50 years, perhaps longer; results that were designed for a specific reason.
Thinking about it all, it now made sense. The schools I attended, why we moved so much when I was growing up, my love of cock starting as far back as I can remember, the real reason “Dagger” wouldn’t let me touch him.
Stansfield is not Daggers real last name either, and our parents are not our parents.
Karl Jäger was our father, and his best friend in Argentina in 1950 was Dr. Josef Mengele.
Put it together.
Stansfield is not Daggers real last name either, and our parents are not our parents.
Karl Jäger was our father, and his best friend in Argentina in 1950 was Dr. Josef Mengele.
Put it together.
Fuck. I feel like killing myself.
