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12 Again He spoke to me, “O son of Adam, have you seen what the elders of the House of Yisrael are doing in the darkness, everyone in his image-covered chamber? For they say, ‘Hashem does not see us; Hashem has abandoned the country.’”

13 And He said to me, “You shall see even more terrible abominations which they practice.”

14 Next He brought me to the entrance of the north gate of the House of Hashem; and there sat the women bewailing Tammuz.

15 He said to me, “Have you seen, O son of Adam? You shall see even more terrible abominations than these.”

16 Then He brought me into the inner court of the House of Hashem, and there, at the entrance to the Temple of Hashem, between the portico and the mizbayach, were about twenty-five men, their backs to the Temple of Hashem and their faces to the east; they were bowing low to the sun in the east [Lucifer]. Ezekiel Chapter 9

 

Susan Ford was born in 1951 into a German-American family. Seen from the outside, she seemed to have an ideal life.

As I entered junior high school, I did the things that normal kids do; I was a cheerleader, performed in the chorus, sang solos at school performances, won awards for the most beautiful smile and for being the class clown, and obtained other awards for service. And my mother had the cleanest house in the neighborhood.

However, Susan’s family were related to the Committee of 300, which is subordinate to the 13 bloodline families, one of which is the Kennedy family. Both of her parents were under the control of the Satanic Council.

Henry Kissinger began to program Susan at a young age (mind fracturing must begin before age 5) to be a Monarch sex slave, experimenting with different modalities of mind-control programming, including implants. These programming techniques, all of them excruciatingly painful, were developed by figures connected to the CIA such as Ewen Cameron, Wilhelm Reich, Reinhard Gehlen and Josef Mengele (known in the U.S. as Dr. Green).

The intentionally inflicted and often extreme child abuse I endured was the necessary “preparation through trauma” that my controllers regarded as prerequisite to my creation as a sex/espionage agent serving within the government and beyond to an overarching cabal of only a handful of individuals, who I overheard referred to as “The Council” [Satanic Council]. For years I witnessed the attempts and deeds they performed to control not only our government, but foreign governments as well. This initial childhood trauma was necessary to create within me multiple personalities for later use by them, insuring their success of my involuntary use and participation in their plan for one world government, where you and I are to work in varying levels — as controlled slaves or, as they say, “worker bees.”

Even before becoming President Kennedy’s programmed sex slave at age 11 or 12, Susan was already being flown from her home in Woodland Hills, California, to Washington D.C.

The Onset of Puberty

I started menstruating at ten, and my father snuck into my room like he always did at night. He explained to me while I was in a haze of sleep, that I was of the superior race, that I was of Aryan descent, and that he was proud of my blond hair, green eyes, and fair skin. At the time, I had no idea what he was talking about and ignored it, pretending I didn’t hear him.

By the end of the 5th grade, when I was almost eleven, I had gone through puberty, was fully developed and had already had my menstrual cycle for a year.

Puberty heralded abuse in rituals which involved being raped and impregnated, sometimes twice a year. When the fetuses were two to three months old, they were aborted at rituals and ingested by members of the group in order to fulfill the beliefs of the group; that it made those participating “more powerful.” These were devastating, deeply traumatizing, and soulfully painful experiences, the memory of which was repressed along with all the other traumas. These traumatic events served as mind-control reinforcement, to insure amnesia of my use in pornography, prostitution, and later projects I was to serve in.

Socially prominent grandfather

When I turned eleven, my father announced he was flying me to his small hometown of Correctionville, lowa, to meet my grandparents.

My paternal grandfather, Ivan Charles Eckhart, was a Jersey Ice Cream manufacturer, a multimillionaire and mayor of Correctionville. Later on he was elected county supervisor and for years was involved in local and state politics.

When my father began taking me to lowa, I had the first of several forced abortions, which was performed in a torturous fashion by a local doctor. Although I was raped and made pregnant at a ritual, I was humiliated and shamed for becoming pregnant. As part of my trauma-based mind control, I was blamed and shamed for everything that happened, none of which I ever had any control over.

My baby, which was not yet old enough to be born alive, was nevertheless a perfectly formed fetus. My grandparents and my father performed a ritual behind their house in which they convinced me that I had killed my own baby, and they ate it and forced me to participate. Since I was suffering from MPD, this traumatic experience, along with many others, was stored neatly away from my conscious mind, hidden in alternate personalities, and sealed away from my conscious awareness by programming that covered and hid the truth of my life.

During the remainder of the time we were in lowa, I was forced to entertain my grandfather’s business and political friends. I danced naked on the table at meetings and performed sexual favors for many of my grandfather’s associates. To demonstrate my abilities, my father prompted the men to use their cigars or cigarettes to burn my vaginal area as I kneeled before them. My father wanted to demonstrate that I would smile and show no signs of the pain due to mind control. After these meetings, I was connected to a higher level of politicians.

Pentagrams and swastikas

One weekend my father took me and my brothers to our Twenty-nine Palms cabin, where they involved me in a sex ritual. They got me drunk, then stripped and tied me by my wrists and ankles face up in the sand in the intense desert sun. They seemed so excited as they did this to me. My father painted a Satanic pentagram and green swastikas on my body. Later on, as it began to get dark he poured gas in a wide circle around me and once it was really dark he lit a match, which started a fire burning all around me. I thought they were going to cook me. They put a half-dead, sandy, horned toad in my mouth and told me to hold it there. My brother Rick was running all around in an excited frenzy and my brother Jim was there also. At this ritual, in addition to traumatizing me, they were being taught how to be in charge. I was raped by all of them and their friends.

Trauma bonding

I attended Hale Junior High School, which was located directly across the street from our church, the First Presbyterian Church of Woodland Hills. It was at Hale, in the 7th grade (we were thirteen), that I met Craig Ford.

Over the next several years, Craig and I were “bonded” to each other through crossprogramming and shared trauna to insure that Craig was under sufficient mind control to later serve as my handler. A ritual at the First Presbyterian Church served to seal our bond, and soon other more sophisticated means of programming were utilized.

Large white vans with men in suits in the back picked us up at differing locations in Ventura and Oxnard, California, and directed us into the back of the van. Specialized equipment in briefcases and other larger equipment in the van awaited us. They routinely beat Craig in front of me to demonstrate what a weakling he was and how powerful and in-control of me they were. They would slap me around in front of him as well, to show him how powerless he was to help me and how much in-control they were.

Electroshock was used on both of us, first by inserting and activating an electric prod in my vagina and then delivering the same to Craig on his penis. We were forced to watch in a dissociative trance state as the other was tortured and traumatized as they readied us for programming.

After they had sufficiently worn us down, they strapped us into sophisticated chairs and hooked us up to electrodes. Tones were combined with electroshock in order to create access cues that gave them quick and easy access to us both later on. Hypnotic suggestions and love songs were presented to us in order to facilitate our “falling madly in love.” . . .

Combined with scenarios such as this, my brothers and their muscle-bound friends would intercept us when we were parked after a date to kiss. They pulled Craig out of the car and beat him up as they instructed him not to touch me sexually. Then one of them would rape me in front of him as they restrained him nearby, rendering him once again powerless to help.

All these conditioning experiences served to prepare Craig to robotically deliver and hand me over to other men, then step aside while I passed messages or serviced them sexually. It was always his job to make sure I was delivered to the right place, at the right time, to the right person, and for many years, that is exactly what he did.

Chapter Six: JFK and the Sex Shuttle

During a demonstration of the high level of technology available to those willing to join the ranks, Henry masterfully delivered a slide presentation of the mind control technology. I sat in the darkened room in “park mode,” with my conscious mind seemingly blocked from the information, yet carrying out the command of my master to perfectly record all that went on around me. First Henry flashed a slide of me in my normal California life. He said, “Who in their right mind would believe that this kid was having sexual relations with the president of the United States?” The men agreed. Then he followed by a series of slides of me artfully made up, dressed formally and in different disguises. The men were amazed at the difference.

Many men were brought into the cause simply because they wanted to own a piece of the rock and have their own robots to do their work or create their pleasures: At first they were given just bits of information at a time, to determine if they would be cooperative. Then they were given a little more information to test the waters to see if they were ready for the final blow. Usually dozens of meetings occurred on superficial levels before any real information was given out and that was only released when the men were “deeply committed,” which meant that they would be endangering themselves or their family if they backed out at a certain point.

In the beginning when Henry was cultivating my relationship with JFK and insuring him of my security guarantees, Henry didn’t fill me with much of an agenda except to give JFK the “royal treatment,” which meant the same as Bob’s (Hope’s) full smorgasbord of sexual positions and favors. Henry told me to carefully note everything JFK said and did for debriefing afterwards. Henry had a challenge with JFK because as he said, “he’s so damn self-initiating,” and so Henry couldn’t have me take the lead, thereby slipping in comments intended for Henry’s covert purposes. So for awhile in the beginning, he just let me be with JFK so that he would get used to me, and Henry said, “Then a plan will inevitably open up.”

Kissinger didn’t spend a lot of time with JFK. They spoke but it was like they were “polar opposites and constantly repelled each other,” Henry said. But Henry, and especially Bob [Hope] as the front man, got to JFK and paved the way for his acceptance of me. Once we were in, then Henry started strategizing heavily. That is what happened after I began having sex with JFK. Henry said, “Mind files were created to delight the young president.” As Kissinger expected, JFK was a romantic and seemed to get caught up in many of the messages I delivered to him. The messages made him feel good and Henry wanted him to feel good and powerful with me. I was delivering high-level [Satanic] Council messages created by Bob and Henry, which Henry instilled in me to deliver to “John-Feeee” — that’s what I called him. They got a war underway through JFK [Vietnam], a big war that was to influence not only America but also the international climate.

Meeting JFK for the first time

When I arrived at the airport in DC, I was met by different people. This time it was a blonde lady in a uniform and she walked me out to a waiting black limo and opened the back door for me to get in. I did, and she put my bag in next to me. This was before I met Craig, so I was eleven or twelve years old, going on twenty-five.

I wasn’t taken directly to JFK but was taken to the area where they operated the “Lincoln Memorial Shuttle” (oral sex ride). A limo pulled up and I was whisked into the back of it. Once inside I saw that “John-Feee” was there and he said hello and began tickling me. . . .

After awhile, JFK tapped on the inner window in the limo to get the driver’s attention and said, “Stop here.”

The driver said, “Here, Sir?”

JFK commanded, “Yes,” and opened the door and grabbed my arm and took me into this small motel. . . .

It was as common for foreign dignitaries, heads of state, senators, congressmen, governors, and other leaders, to ride the Lincoln Memorial (Oral Sex) Tour, as it was for them to get their shoes shined in the local hotels. In fact, I was programmed to say, “Want your shoe shined?” Then I would unzip him and begin.

I serviced many men on this so-called shuttle service over the years of my life that should have been filled with junior high, high school and college extracurricular activities of my own choosing. The elitists I worked for had an endless supply of slaves for the shuttle.

JFK rode the L.M. sex tour regularly, and while I was down on my knees he would pat me on the back and say, “You are really going to move up the ranks.” Or, “You’re really going to amount to something when you grow up, kid.” He loved lunchtime oral sex.

JFK was really gutsy. He would even sneak me into the White House for “nooners.” Sometimes there was another sex slave with me, and when we’d get up to the bedroom he would say, “We’re just furthering your training so you’ll be top-notch when you grow up.” . . .

Debriefing

There were times when Henry would have a driver take me from D.C. to his office in New York. He would work with me in the back seat after he told the driver, “I’ll be busy working and I don’t want to be interrupted.” So the driver shut the window between the seats and Henry would debrief me and tak sketchy notes, draw diagrams and plans while I was talking or he would touch his finger to my forehead and start uploading me for future assignments. Much of our work took place like this on drives between places usually just before or afer I had been used at the White House or other places. It was convenient, as well as a security measure, because he could account for his time spent with me by saying, “I was en route to N.Y. or D.C.” or wherever he was going, and since I was on the same time track as Henry it was all very time efficient. . . .

During my years at Hale Jr. High School, there were times Kissinger pre-programmed and sent me in with a message to deliver while I was prostituted to JFK. I was a cheerleader and was prostituted to the boy’s coach along the way. I had a group of girl friends that were part of my Girl Scout Troop, [and] | went to a lot of sleepovers. Many times I didn’t end up staying overnight, but was instead shuffled off for a quick rendezvous to the White House or to Massachusetts, or wherever the higher-ups wanted me to go to be with JFK.

Why JFK and His Brother Really Got Shot

One day in his office, Henry said, “You won’t be servicing him (JFK) much longer. The higher-ups have some alternate plans for him.” At the time I felt he meant death. Henry said, “This will lock you in for life.” Later, they used JFK’s death on me heavily.

When JFK was killed I was in junior high school and my controllers told me, “If we can take out the president without anyone knowing, who would miss the likes of you?” They told me I was dispensable, easily replaceable, and that no one would ever miss me if I were gone.

JFK had ties to Frank Sinatra and his group. I was shared around all these type groups because of Bob’s and Henry’s influence. The Kennedys were highly mob-connected, especially Bobby, as surprising as that might seem. JFK took a mob dispute with him clear to the White House and attempted to use his power as president to shut down his enemies. He publicly appeared to go after the mob, but he was interested in shutting down only one enemy faction. But he had to publicly say he was going after all underworld crime in order to be able to legally do what he tried to do: dismantle the mob that opposed the Kennedy family clan. I overheard Joe Kennedy yelling at JFK at a family reunion when he was president. He told him to stop messing with the mob, to leave it alone, that he didn’t know what he was doing.

Joe Kennedy was very happy with the marriage of Jackie to Jack, because Jackie brought with her a mob faction that would help build up Jack and the future Kennedy dynasty. At least that’s what I heard him say. Joe Kennedy was big on mob connections, like his friend, J.P. Morgan, who was an important mob buddy and supporter. They supported each other.

As Joe Kennedy got weaker, the tight rein of coexistence he held with the mob began to loosen and his sons became sloppy and careless, and didn’t take seriously the rules of the mob. Like Uncle Frank (Sinatra) said, “You don’t ever try to go against the mob or you’ll wind up in the morgue or worse yet, sleeping with the fishes.”

I was born into Uncle Charlie’s mob connection and he heavily influenced my life because of his arms, munitions and drug connections all over the globe. These were some serious connections that made him sought after by members of the [Satanic] Council. In those days, the mob made the money and powerful connections. They were the power behind the Council, initially the connections that allowed the Council to [gain power]. The mob provided important funding in the early years, but later the Council took away much of their power over monopolies through intelligence and outsmarting them with technology.

 

Brice Taylor (1993). Thanks for the Memories: The Truth Has Set Me Free!

The memoirs of Bob Hope’s and Henry Kissinger’s mind-controlled slave, used as a presidential sex toy and personal “mind-file” computer

https://archive.org/details/brice-taylor-thanks-for-the-memories-with-pictures-large-font/