September 08, 2017

Voices of authority

"You know we are not here because of the music don't you?" He was standing at the door, about to leave. We were in the bed under the duvet and couldn't move  and didn't know if it was drugs, pain or dissociation that was causing it but we knew we would not be helped by  finding out then and there. Back in pure horror, total full time sex slavery involving thousands of people and the operators making regular appearances with very specific aims and very tried and tested techniques. We already knew them we understood when the not evil powerful people had made us study this shit so much now because we would not of survived it if we hadn't. By god we frustrated them and they were not used to being frustrated those police, doctors and professors born and bred to hold everyone's keys.

 We managed to say something because he would leave quicker if we answered him. Parts spoke about it being about me talking about to my sister and because we weren't pretending she wasn't there anymore and that she was being as hurt as much as we were. We said "sister" to make him think we had not remembered it was "sisters". There was a few minutes more of higher mid level slaver talk and us answering in conscious slave. We said something about something he didn't know. No knew much about anything but all still believed or had ambitions of taking over aspects or even the whole scene and they were encouraged and supported because it made everything worse for everyone everywhere.

There's no concept of time and very little of space. Tied to the bed. Rapists wondering and out when they pleased. Certain times when even worse stuff was schelduled. We knew this and where aware and felt everything a lot. We also knew we were sticking to the story about having murdered one of our sisters and have no memories of any more and that we couldnt tell them where Pablo was because we didn't know. The more we were raped and tortured the more confident we were that we were genuinely unable to tell them where Pablo was. Telling them would not of stopped it anyway. It would of taken away any hope that it would ever end in the short and long term.

We remember Lee weeping as he came in one day released us and half carried have supported me out. He was in pain and injured too and was limping and wincing to.. think we might of managed a laugh about the state we were both in in the hallway before we reach the top of stairs and to get our soft tissue injuries and each other down the stairs with no idea what would meet us at the bottom. Think for a moment Lee thought it was all over when we did get down we could feel the diafinte resignation through the adrenile and agonies and drugs/drugs withdrawals but we were faily lucid and the guy was a real idiot and we manage to bullshit our past him. Lee couldn't fucking believe it and when we tried to explain how it worked we found we had no idea either. There was cars out the front. He could drive thankfully cause we couldn't. He could also start it. Think we might of called him a hero for that. He couldn't drive very well.. .. Think we ended up too fucked to make it any further and were pulled out of whatever had been commandeered by some local blokes. They didn't hurt us but they weren't friends either.

I don't know how long I was tied up with my arms above my head and never untied unless heavily drugged into submission, how much of the first year or so of blog posts are total fiction in terms of the perspective of this mass of flesh and nerves.