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.
There were instructions on the card; I know, because he laid it down and I read and retained it in my photographic memory. It said, "This lovely young lady is yours for the evening. You can't wear her down. She will please you in every way imaginable. You have only to reach out, take her left hand, squeeze it and say, 'Come on honey, we're going home. Oh, by the way, put a raincoat on her while you're in transport, she didn't come with clothes."
So Bing took my hand and led me out of the closet. He acted like I would break or wake up or something. He treated me like I wasn't real. He was very cautious at first.
Bing and I got into a waiting limo and went to a penthouse apartment, "to unwind," Bing said. It was his home away from home, a safe place, he said, like in the song "up on the roof." He sang and danced a little and I sat on the bed and watched him. He sang some old song that I had never heard of and he looked ancient but always had a smile on his face. It seemed like he danced out of nervousness, of not knowing quite what to do.
He never looked away from me for a minute. Then he came over, undid the tie on my raincoat and slowly undid the buttons. I was barefoot and my feet were purple and cold. He pulled down the bed covers and I climbed in, and he began touching me, still with his own clothes on, when the phone rang. He put the receiver aside while the person was talking on the other end. He laughed kind of awkwardly and whispered to me, "Just last minute instructions from Bob!"
Bing hung up and said, as if I could not hear or comprehend, "Bob said to rub here in circular motions to turn you on to HOT!" He began rubbing circular motions around my belly button, activating my sexual passion touch programs, and I began to do the programmed «ohhhhhh» moans and he got an erection after hearing that and pulled off his pants while he was still rubbing. It was as if he perceived me as a robot and was afraid of not knowing how to work me …afraid something might go wrong.
I went into my dancing mode on the bed and took off the rest of his clothes. I did like Bob had instructed me, "Tell him you're dreaming of a White Christmas and then wink." Once I had delivered that, I performed oral sex and rubbed him all over. Then I climbed on top of him and satisfied him sexually. He'd had a drink in the limo that mixed with his cologne, and he smelled like alcohol. After we were through, he went right to sleep. I curled up beside him and fell asleep, too. Maybe all this was to make sure he had that White Christmas he was dreaming of.
Sometime later, the phone rang and woke us up. He got dressed, put me back into the raincoat and escorted me down the elevator to a waiting limo. He stayed and I left in the limo and was not taken back to Bob's but instead was taken to the airport and flown home. The limo driver gave me clothes to put on, and when I got on the airplane I slept the whole flight home, like I was always programmed to do.
My programmed mother picked me up at LAX Airport and handed me a brown paper bag with my own clothes in it. I robotically went into the airport bathroom, changed into my own clothes, and went out to my mother, who simply said, "We're going home, honey. You can sleep all the way home."