She told me at other times that I was chosen by God to fulfill some mission. Instead of organized Satanism, she practiced her own perverted form of Christianity with the purpose of "purifying me" to rid me of all evil. She never directly addressed Satan, but instead spoke of hell and damnation; it was a fire and brimstone style of fundamental Christianity, mixed with witchcraft. Mrs. Winkler cut pieces of my hair and saved them for rituals that were held with other «inside» church members and my father in outdoor rural places, in the middle of the darkened night.
For years, my father performed a variety of brutal, ritual-type physical and psychological abuses, among them: confinement in closets, cages, and a coffin, while I was told I was being left to die; near drowning; isolation; needles inserted in sensitive body areas; food and sleep deprivation; electroshock via electric wires, welding equipment, cattle prods, etc.; drugging; sophisticated hypnotic and electronic programming; tying me upside down to walnut trees out in the isolated walnut groves and other places; forcing me to participate in torturous rituals and orgies; and sexually abusing me, each time in more perverted ways.
At that time, Woodland Hills was still in its own infancy. At first, there were only two or three other houses built on our street, insuring my father and others plenty of wide-open spaces to conduct their crimes. In 1952, what is now known as the "101 Freeway" had not yet been built. The area was still largely undeveloped and rural, allowing for these crimes to easily go undetected.
While I was still very small, my father had an affair with another church secretary named Selma McGrew who lived in the house behind ours. She participated in my «preparation» by allowing my father to include me in the sex they were having. Being so young and small I often felt I would be killed during these encounters, and so I split off more personalities to endure it.
Nighttime was never intended for sleeping at our house but instead was a time of training. My mother was the only one allowed and/or commanded to sleep. My two older brothers, Jim and Rick, and my father came into my room night after night, creating an endless array of different forms of sexual abuse, all under my father's direction. My brother Rick, who is four years older than I, was selected to participate more often and my father used him to help «prepare» me for use as a child prostitute and for my approaching debut in pornography.
The two of us were sexually abused together and were both electroshocked with bare electric wires to our genitals. I painfully remembered my brother sitting robotically while my father attached a bare wire to his penis and then inserted the opposite end in the electrical outlet, sending his little body into uncontrollable spasms. Tears flooded my brother's eyes and ran down his cheeks as he then was forced to watch as I was electroshocked. For years my mother told the story of how she continually found my brother hiding behind the couch shocking himself by inserting bare wires into the electrical outlet. She laughed a kind of confused, questioning laugh as she spoke this. She probably couldn't think to question where the bare-wired cord came from or why her young son was continually seeking to electroshock himself. I stuck a table knife in an electrical socket so often that there was a knife in the kitchen drawer that was notched from being repeatedly inserted into the outlet. This unconscious act reinforced our programming.
I was often awakened and drugged in the middle of the night by my parents in order to attend rituals that were performed in the empty lot behind the church and at other locations around Woodland Hills. Many of the gullies and outdoor places that were used for rituals when I was a young child have since been developed into homes or large cement drainage areas, but in the 50's these areas provided seclusion for this group. The whole congregation did not participate in these nightly horrors, only a select inner circle was allowed in.
At two, I was initiated into the inner circle with a celebration dedicating me as the bride of Christ. I was drugged, dressed in a long white lace gown, and passed around the circle of drugged members as they sat around a bonfire in a vacant lot, during the middle of the night. Each member fondled me sexually, then I was lain on an altar to be raped and dedicated to Christ and the group. The inner circle members wore black robes and participated in sexual orgies and the killing and ingesting of animal and human flesh. Their belief was that these cannibalistic and sexual acts would transfer the energy or life force from the victim to them in order to make them more powerful.
I was involved in endless rituals that included being burned with candles, having crucifix's jammed up my vagina as I lay on an alter or hung upside down on a cross, having pins inserted into every area of my body including my vagina and the roof of my mouth, and having animals and babies killed in front of me and being forced to eat their raw flesh and drink their blood or urine. Other children were involved in the rituals, and when we reached a certain age we were forced to participate in killing animals and babies. In order to psychologically survive these experiences, many additional personalities within me were created. Nothing was ever as painful as being forced to inflict pain on another or watch as others were tortured or killed.
I had a doll cabinet that my father had specially made for me. It was filled with dolls from all over the world, that were given to me to love. My father used my dolls to program different personalities within me, as he abused me night after night. Often when my father tortured me he would hand a different doll for me to hold in order to create different parts of me with different identities that in my young mind I could relate to the doll I was holding. He told me the doll in my hand was part of me but separate and then he would call it by name. There was the little doll with the red hair and freckles, the baby doll, Cyndy the bride doll, Rebecca, Sally, Thumbelina, Barbie and Madame Alexander, to name a few.
There were dolls everywhere around me, especially in that doll case that my father had made for me with the sliding glass window front so the dolls could be seen. Each doll was «displayed» which my father said meant they couldn't play until he said it was time for them to come out of the case. At night when he woke me for abuse, he took out the doll whose personality was to be the front, or presenting, personality of my inner system of created personalities. As he pulled a doll out of the doll case he'd say, "she's no longer on display, she can come out and play now," and at that tender age, I would switch into the personality my father called forth. Then he would say, "You Susie, will step aside as Doll fully enters your body. Whenever I snap my fingers three times, Doll will enter the body and Susie will step aside, like this now," and he would snap his fingers three times and I would follow my father's command, totally and completely.
Holidays always signaled times of trauma. One Christmas I awoke excited to see what Santa had brought for me. My two worlds and the personalities that lived in them were continually subjected to different realities, and this day was to be no different. Susie in her red velveteen robe got special treatment while other personalities had "Xmas," a very different painful and evil reality. While Susie got a Christmas stocking full of goodies, Sharon got razor blades and coal and parts of dead animals. «Sharon» was another one of my inner personalities my father created, which he developed as my "inner twin" to Susie, my conscious everyday personality. One Christmas ritual trauma I vividly remembered was when my father laid me down on the rug in front of the fireplace and placed his finger inside my vagina while he readied a hot poker in the fire. Somehow putting me in a trance-state, he began, "You won't feel this. You will only continue to feel the pleasure, just like I am rubbing now. Does it feel good?"