One time when I was with LBJ he asked me questions about school and seemed to like to hear me talk about it. He also liked for me to wear my black and white saddle shoes. I had very shiny patent leather ones. This was during the time I was still attending Hale Junior High School. Lyndon liked that I was very young. At this time I was around 12 or 13 years old. I was with him quite a few times.
Another time my father took me to Texas on the flight back from Iowa. That's when LBJ showed me his Cadillac convertible. He kept it parked in a separate garage away from the ranch so it wouldn't get so dirty. "Hell, everything gets coated with dirt on the Ranch," he said. He had on his dress-up cowboy clothes and said that "Lady B" was off at some china convention. He drank beer in the car when we went on a "joy ride," he called it. I sat next to him and gave him a "super-duper," which was complete oral sex gratification. He said, "Be careful, I don't want to get any on the seat."
I laughed and teasingly said to assure him, "I know. I'm an expert in this area. Remember?" "Well you sure do have spunk, I'll say that for you," he replied. LBJ smelled but not like body odor; it was just a strong male smell. He had his arm up over the back of the seat and we only rode for as long as it took to satisfy his sexual urge. Then he took the car back and had me keep my head down so no one could see me. I didn't go inside the ranch and when we got back he said, "This is as far as you go, little lady." I let myself out of the car and slammed the door. "You could have waited for my assistance," he said.
I laughed and said, "I can do it myself." A suited man escorted me into the back of a black sedan that was waiting under a tree at the front of the ranch and I was taken away.
Another evening as I waited for Lyndon, dressed scantily in a black lacy bra, garter belt, black nylons and red high heels, he declared I was making smoke come out of his ears and that, "it shore wasn't from his cigar." He wanted me to keep turning around and around and around while he looked at me. "My, my…" he said, licking his lips and as he put his hand to his mouth he continued, "My Lord, what do we have here?" The heavy stench of his cologne and smokesaturated clothes followed him over to me as he told me to bend over the bed with just those garter belts on and he stuck his penis in my bottom and then into my vagina but I had to give him oral sex in between, "to clean it off," he explained. It was disgusting and vile, even under mind control. Then we had intercourse and he liked it when I made noises. He had a cattle prod or some sort of electrical device nearby but didn't use it much. When he pushed the lever it made a crackling sound and what emerged looked like a jolt of yellow fiery-type electricity. He said he didn't have to use it with me much because I was so good.
He asked me if I liked what I did. I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Yes," but due to the mind control I was under I was unable to really think about his question. He told me he loved the young ones, "…beautiful little lady." He liked to kiss open mouth but he tasted yucky like cigars. His private parts smelled, too. But then there was the cologne to cover up the smell. He was pretty fat from my perception, but big and tall. Lyndon had a medium to small penis for his big body, but he said he used it well. He wasn't really hairy and the hair on his head was thinning. He used something like Vitalis on what was left of his hair when he combed it. I think maybe that is why he kept his cowboy hat on all the time, even in bed.
I usually slept all night with him because he wanted me to. He slept really close and held on to me. I spent the night and then in the morning I was taken home. When I was in the 10 " grade, I spent the night with him more often — even sometimes on school nights. I didn't go to school until 11:30 a.m. anyway and no one could ever seem to tell I had been gone. Sometimes I missed a full day of school and no one at Hale or Taft High ever said anything to me. Another form of trauma was added when one day after school, I was forced to watch as the men in suits roughed up my junior high school principal.
I was taken to the White House to be with Lyndon. One night he told me all about this lady named Agnes who he loved before Lady B. That's what he called his wife, "Lady B," instead of Lady Bird. He said he never got over Agnes, just couldn't forget her. He said Lady B fit into his future plans and worked out better but that he just really loved Agnes. When he talked about Agnes he had a goofy faraway look on his face.
Lyndon told me his wife had grown to act old early on in their marriage when something of a maternal nature happened to upset her. He said from then on she wasn't much for sex, so he took care of his needs elsewhere. He told me so much personal stuff that I think he must have forgotten how young I was. A lot of what he told me I didn't really understand. But I listened, apparently to his satisfaction, because one day he complimented me by saying, "You are a very good listener, young lady."
Lyndon also liked for me to cuddle on his lap while he fondled me in an armchair as he watched TV. He usually covered me with a blanket. It made it more secretive and he pretended people were present in the room with us watching but they didn't know what we were doing. Then he would ask me if I liked it.
I would smile and was programmed to say, "of course," or, "do more," or, "you're so big." He loved it all. I wore Unforgettable perfume with him. It was pungent and strong but he liked it. He especially liked sex when I was menstruating — he said it turned him on. He liked to do all sorts of perverted things to me during that time, which I don't feel comfortable sharing here. He also suggested that I do whatever I usually did for the cameras and take charge of our sexual activity. "You're in charge of the whoring, little lady," he would say as he smiled and tipped his hat. That hat was such an important thing to him.
He talked to me a lot and told me all kinds of stories over the time he was President. He liked for me to call him "Prez." He said when I called him Lyndon it made him feel guilty about Lady B so he said to call him Prez and I did as he commanded.
Sometimes he wore those dumb elastic things to hold his socks up like Bob (Hope) did. He looked so ridiculous wearing those dumb socks, his boxers and his hat, while he sat and smoked. He must not have cared what he looked like. The room was always kept pretty dark. He said he was most comfortable like that, but my eyes would adjust to the dark and I could still see how silly he looked. The teen personality programmed to be with him during those times was respectful and performed as her programming dictated, but through her teenage eyes, felt he was just a dork.
I did things that made him laugh. They were really dumb things but he seemed to like them. Like once I pulled my hair over and around and onto my upper lip and scrunched my lip up, pinching the hair under my nose to make it look like a mustache. Silly things made him laugh.
He tested my programmed capabilities. He burned me with a cigar one time, because he said he was told to try it to see what happened. He looked pretty amazed when I took off my clothes, sat down, got into position and told him to go ahead and stick it in, that it wouldn't burn me. So he pressed his cigar to my vagina and it didn't burn me. The pain didn't even register — "it didn't even hurt," is what I told him. That made him turned on and he said, "Little lady, you give me a big boner." He told me there was an endless stream of young ladies who liked his "big boner."
He liked the song that goes, "I'm a long tall Texan, and wear a 10 gallon hat." He also liked Born Free and Burt Bacharach's Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head and Blue, Blue, My World is Blue. He also liked hot dogs and hamburgers, but hot dogs best. And he told me he liked dachshunds, those little wiener dogs. I often felt like a dog with him because he was always patting my head. I joked with him about it and started barking when he patted me. I could really get off-the-wall with him and he seemed to love it. He laughed and laughed like Nixon and Reagan did at the silly things I was programmed to say and do. I don't know if he was aware that I had been programmed with most of the jokes.