Electrocution

Pain, it is our body's warning system that something is wrong, and to move that body part away from that which is causing the pain. The end result is that you don't do that again, as you have learned that it causes an unpleasant or painful experience. 

For those who wish control and train children, this is a major bonus. If they do something you don't like, you cause them pain. If they continue to do it, you make the pain more severe until eventually they get the message. 

Sounds a simple enough practise, parents have been using this tactic for years. A good smack and the child should learn never to do that again. But what if you want to teach the child something way more sinister. What if you want to make it very clear to the child that no matter what happens , they are NEVER to speak about what is happening to them, What if you want to convince a child of a lie that they are not accepting. What if you want to teach them that resisting rape will incur serious consequences. What if you are trying to program a child's brain into behaving a particular way at a set time.

Basically what if you want control over this child, One very effective mechanism is electrocution. It is easy to access, can leave few marks, and with a little knowhow can be rigged up to give only the exact amount required to get the point through to the child. 

There is book I am in the process of reading called 'The Body Remembers'. It speaks about how the body holds a memory of the trauma it has been through. Much like how someone who has been through physical abuse will flinch when someone raises their hand near them. 

We know we have been electrocuted, our body randomly jolts, not uncommon to movements many make when relaxed. But the other day we relived a full body electrocution. We were lying on the couch watching TV, something must have triggered it. Our muscles tensed, tighter and tighter until our body was arched back in a tight and tense arc, shaking. While I couldn't feel the pain (that has obviously been stored in another part of our memory) I could not escape this feeling, My mind was clear I knew what it was, but my body was working on its own, It lasted for maybe 15 seconds, I don't remember exactly, and then our body relaxed back to its normal state. At that point I knew for sure that what I suspected was true. They had used electrocution on us. 

My little one.

The Pain, there is so much pain. It's not even tangible. We want to cut ourselves open, down so deep to feel the blood leak out, we want it to hurt in our skin like we deserve and how it feels inside. It will never be close to the pain we feel inside.
We lost our second baby is the group. It died in our stomach at 5months gestation. It was the first one we had got to feel kick and to know it was really there. We had to give birth to it. unable to breathe or survive.
We knew the baby was coming because we started bleeding. The blood just kept coming. There was so much blood and it wouldn't stop. We knew it meant the baby was going to come out. . We knew we would be in trouble.
Our small little baby, only 5 months gestation, not able to survive. we don't even know what sex it was. We think maybe it was a boy.
 There was no compassion or care towards us, and what we were going through. Only contempt and the feeling we had failed as we hadn't been able to keep the baby alive. . I know in my brain things like this happen all the time, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. But we were made to feel like failures. We had let people down and we were bad.
This baby was intended for the group, to be used how they wanted, and as a breeder we were supposed to provide for them a healthy child. But we did not. That woman, that horrible blonde haired, middle aged, woman. I think her name was Margaret. She was there to supervise us as they took the baby out. She had no compassion at all.  She was as hard as stone, and angry as if we had ruined her day.
I remember lying on a table, the baby had been taken, we were not allowed to see it or hold it, there was blood everywhere. A girl, thin, with dark hair, about my age, was ordered to "get her cleaned up'"  As in referring to us. I could see the girl was scared, and too afraid to not do as she was told. She knew the consequences for not submitting without question. She quietly and quickly went about wiping us down and cleaning up the blood.
The pain, they took our baby away. We were shattered for ages, unable to process what had happened and the cruelty and callous nature of those around us. We wanted so desperately to have been able to hold the baby , just have the baby. That little one we have for the shortest time given life too. Even now, all these years on, the pain is so great inside, it doesn't leave . We long to hold that tiny tiny baby in our arms. To kiss his tiny head and say I love you and I am your mummy. My little one.

Finding MIchael part 2

This christmas and New years have been hard of course. There has been a lot going on inside. One of the memories that has come forward has been of the time we were pregnant with Michael. Michaels father was involved in the group but now the same way we were. He was to choose someone to have sex with. For him, being in his teens, he didn't feel like being told to have sex with someone was a very bad thing. Probably because he was male he had choices and options we did not. It was forced, he had to do it but he didn't mind so much. For us, we had no choices. If you were chosen you did as you were told or suffered the consequences. Whilst we felt scared and traumatised by the experience, he helped to pull us through it, and made us feel more at ease. He was an old friend and that helped.
As we got to the last few months of the pregnancy, we were sent to a house, to stay there until we had had the baby. This was so that outsiders wouldn't see us so pregnant and that 'they' could keep an eye on us. I remember a Dr would come to check on us and do examinations. It was never a nice experience. There were other pregnant girls there too. They knew that Michaels father had dark skin. They used to tease me that I was going to have a brown baby. But I didn't care, I decided to be proud of it instead of feeling bad. It was my baby and I was going to love it no matter what, and I did when it came, its heart so small. I loved him from the beginning, he was my life. but they took him and said he wasn't mine. In my mind I knew he was and still is. I want my baby, my little brown baby, I loved so much, to hold him so close, and kiss his forehead like I did before. He was beautiful and I am his mum.
I was forced to leave that house, but he stayed, They called him Michael. The last I saw of him he was a toddler. Beautiful brown skin, dark curly hair and a beautiful cheeky smile. I miss him deep within my being. I hope he is ok.