My Dear Beth Ch 02

A work of fiction.

*****

I got this from the author's estate. He recently died of a heart attack.

I've left his notes in - the ones before and after each chapter. I'll withhold his name as well as changing the names and location herein. He didn't change them, but I don't agree with that. Then, too, the company, mentioned below, contacted me and threatened legal action if I didn't change the names and location or if I mentioned their name. Shortly after they contacted me about the names and location, they called back. The company wants these journals and has filed suit, but I'm publishing them before their court action can be seen through.

I'm putting this here, over his Prologue, because I didn't want to put my Prologue in Ch. 01, since he didn't.

So, that's the last thing I'll write. The rest is either the author or one of the participants/victims.

***** The author starts:

At first, I left this prologue out of the story, but now feel that it's important not only to set the context, but also to ask for help (below.)

Ok, I have to fess up. What you're reading is a copy of journals that came into my possession some time back when I received them via the USPS. I tracked down the return address and it was bogus. I have no idea who sent them to me or why.

I've been reading and re-reading them and debating what to do and finally came to the decision that I should publish them.

Part of the reason for even debating whether or not to publish them is that I'm still not sure how the story turned out for everyone in the journals. I don't know who's still alive and who's dead. If I let this out into the wild, could anyone go to jail - or, worse, be hunted down and killed?

Worse yet - could I be hunted down and killed for letting them out?

I didn't know the answers to those questions; didn't have a clue. Naturally, it troubled me greatly. I was concerned about the people in these journals. (and myself)

Consequently, a while back, I hired a company to try to find the people involved and try to establish if the stories in these journals had any basis in fact.

The company has done as best they could over the past year.

Frankly, I was surprised that they found the two that they found.

They also established that there was a Beth.

So you see, these journals don't seem to be a complete work of fiction. I was hoping that they were.

The two? The company found Beth's ex-husband and her daughter. It turns out that the ex was not the daughter's father. The biological father had been found dead, of a heart attack, about a year before Beth had married her last ex.

The current ex and the daughter were both living happily near Everett, Washington. The daughter was about the right age that she would've been if these journals were accurate. She's been married since graduating from college and has a child of her own.

The ex-husband was elderly and died a couple of months after the company found him.

The ex had no idea what had happened to Beth. She was there one day and gone the next. He said that police didn't find anything in the house that would lead them to suspect foul play. He said that the police told him that the house looked like it had purposefully been scrubbed of evidence - or that Beth was one hell of a housekeeper.

The ex said that Beth was't one hell of a housekeeper. That still troubled him, but he was at a loss to explain it. It also troubled me.

The police looked for airline or bus tickets in Beth's name or any charges to her credit cards that could have been used for any type of transportation. There was nothing. In examining the credit cards, they established a hard date beyond which none of the cards were used. The ex said that the mystery man was due on the weekend before the last charge on her card. He said that the guy usually would be flying out that Sunday. Beth's VISA was used Monday of that week at a pharmacy. She had bought medical supplies but the ex could give no reason that she should have.

The police didn't find any restaurants where Beth had been seen in the company of a gentleman. They asked the local hotels if they'd had anyone staying around the dates that the ex said that the mystery man had come to town, but came up with nothing.

The daughter refused to speak with investigators.

Beth had simply vanished from the face of the Earth, perhaps accompanied by a mystery man whose last name they never learned, and they couldn't say that the first name that the ex supplied was a real name. The daughter - again - refused to talk.

The company went over all of the police reports and the investigators' notes, but no further light could be shed on what might have happened to Beth. The police - and the company - couldn't determine if the mystery man or anyone else had anything to do with her disappearance.

The company couldn't find even a hint of any of the other people mentioned in these journals.

After the company's initial report, I had them keep looking. To date, nothing.

There came a time, about a month ago, that I finally decided that these journals were ok to publish. I debated changing the names and locations of everyone but decided against it to preserve the integrity of the documents. Make of them what you will.

But - PLEASE! If you recognize any people in your life that seem to have a backstory that is anything like what is described herein, or rumors around them that allude to something like this, I offer a $100,000 reward if I find even one of the people in these journals. $150,000 if it's Beth.

The notes before and/or after a particular excerpt that I'm publishing are by me, just in case you're wondering.

Buckle up, buttercup. The ride gets bumpy.

***** Preface

When we last were with our happy couple, they seemed to be departing from the usual path of couples in love.

Gad, our dude seems to be in a bit of a pickle! He's tied down like a lamb to be slaughtered!

He's got horrendous drugs in his system - and more to come? Who knows. Oh, wait; I do, because I've read ahead! Don't you dare!

He's at the mercy of a crazy woman, aka

PsychoCat

She likes to toy with her food and he's now on her dinner plate.

Shall we rejoin the feeding frenzy as Beth continues writing in the journal that her paramour had started?

*****

..

After I'd gotten most of the initial push of Valium onboarded, I asked if he was still awake.

He said that he was, but he was busy talking to Daffy Duck and asked if I would ring back later. He then laughed a very slow, rolling laugh as his eyes closed to enclose the narcotic stupor that he was enjoying. He was not about to let any of that escape!

He was always such a funny man! I loved that about him! I hoped that he could retain his sense of humor through this; he was going to need it.

I took the Valium rig out and picked up another rig and stuck it into the port in the line. I hadn't mentioned this to him or he might not have agreed. Indeed, he probably would have tried to escape and that wasn't ever going to happen.

I put some of it in and, in about 5 seconds, his eyes popped open,

"wha... the... fu... Bef... puhleees! Nooo, uh...wow!"

He - whimpered? Nah - my guy would never whimper. Would he? Nah.

"That was just a little Dexedrine to make sure that you don't go to sleep. I need you to be able to focus. I'm done with that, so you won't get anymore." I almost believed that when I said it.

He didn't remark on any of that and his eyes slowly closed again as the rush of the Dex subsided. I guessed that he was ok with it since he didn't say anything else.

I kept explaining things to him because I wanted him to be able to make informed decisions - you know, like when you go in for surgery.

The reason that thiopental is so central to all of this is that the thiopental makes it difficult to focus on complex concepts and this aids in hypnosis. A person needs to be able to completely focus and be subsumed by the focusing. Complex issues make that more difficult.

The CIA used thiopental, extensively, in MKUltra. I found those documents - enlightening.

Thiopental doesn't, however, submerge the person's reasoning in a sea of narcotic haze. That person is still that person, even when Valium is paired with it.

The drawback of the thiopental, though, is that it also prevents the kind of laser-sharp focusing that might allow the person's mind to become completely wrapped up in an object - or the words of the hypnotist.

The hope I have is that the Dexedrine will bring the kind of focus that amphetamines can bring without allowing complex thought back in.

We'll see.

I popped a Heart Rate/O2 saturation gauge (HRO2) onto his right index finger so that I'd be warned of any potential OD or a racing pulse, and secured it with tape. Can't be too careful!

I infused more thiopental in small doses, along with even smaller doses of Valium, until he was in a state that I felt was as receptive as he could be without being unconscious.

I had to give him some more Dexedrine to give him the energy to talk to me, though. Having never done this, nor read about using this combination of drugs during my year of researching this, I was flying blind.

Eventually, he was able to talk, thank goodness. Otherwise, I would've had to give him some Narcan, wait a day, and restart this whole fucking process. I didn't know if I had the time to do that, nor what would happen if I ran out of time. Well, I knew what would happen if I ran out of time, but I didn't want that, my daughter didn't want that, and the man in my bed sure didn't want that.

I hadn't planned on failing and that may have been shortsighted. If I have time, I will try to come up with a contingency; however, time seems to be working against me carving out a chunk of time to think about this.

When he became lucid enough to answer my questions, he had no resistance to telling me things that I wanted to know. I asked him about things that he'd previously avoided answering.

Of course, when he'd initially declined to answer, I was all, "Of course, love, I understand. Let's just move on."

I was now going to use those questions as a litmus test.

I asked him about his time in the Navy, in Vietnam. He gave me answers to specific questions. While I was shocked, I had already figured that it had to have been something bad. I was not here to judge him, though, and I pressed on.

I asked him how many women he had slept with. I asked him for the thing that he liked best and the thing that he found most unattractive in each. I also asked him how good or bad each of them was in bed and why.

I didn't care about his answers because I was only interested in whether or not he'd answer me. As we talked, I kept reminding him to focus on my words and to be comforted in knowing that I wasn't judging him.

"Baby, I appreciate you telling me about these women so that I can, in my mind, thank them for helping you become the excellent lover you are now!"

I thought that the fact that he'd tell me these things demonstrated that he was susceptible to being hypnotized. It seemed, as I finished the questions, that he might have already started going into a light trance.

"Focus on my words of appreciation for the person that you are now and be assured that I don't judge you. I love you, babe. Let my words soothe and comfort you. Let them flow through you and focus completely on them."

I picked up a print-out of the script that he'd given me during the sixth week of our relationship (his third time back in town) and I spoke to him in calm, reassuring tones as I read the script that had failed so many times before.

I paid attention to each word and the pacing, tone and inflection that I thought was needed. I had been reading up on this quite a bit, in the past year, as well as watching as many YouTube videos as I could find that seemed to be done professionally. You know, there is just so much BS on YouTube! But, I digress.

I had to stretch the script out until I got the result that I wanted, but I finally was convinced that has, thank God, tranced. I did a deepener and tested him in several different ways. He did everything I asked and passed every test. Then again, he wasn't really in a condition to lie to me because he was under the influence of such a powerful drug combination - and he loved me more than ever!

An hour later, I was satisfied that he was now in a very deep trance. He was having trouble answering, despite more Dexedrine. This was due to being so deeply tranced, I assumed.

I spent the next two hours working through yet more deepeners, that I'd gotten off of the Internet. and had to give him yet more Dexedrine so that he could answer me. My poor baby! Eventually, all he could do was answer by raising a finger. Gladly, it was never his middle finger!

Finally, I decided that I would put in a trigger word, 'Spaceballs,' to go immediately back into a deep trance.

I'd been using the elevator deepener, and now it seemed that whenever he went back into a trance using the script, the first level that he saw was 'level' (floor) 5. It wasn't as deep as I'd been able to take him but as I'd wake him up and then work him back into a trance, that was the level that he started landing on consistently. So, what would 'Spaceballs' bring?

Finally, "Spaceballs!"

"Umm... hmm... I ammm... level 5."

Success! I then put in a trigger of 'Wake," so that he could wake up feeling refreshed and alert and even more in love with me. This way, I didn't have to go through all of that crap every time I woke him up.

I fractionalized him for another hour. I worked on his love for me and him wanting to please me. Trance, wake, trance, wake. I can only imagine that he felt like he was on some kind of mental trampoline.

Slowly, his devotion to me was becoming more of a tangible thing! My sweet baby was truly becoming mine!

During the next trance, I put in a trigger, 'freeze up,' to cause his arms and legs to freeze in place, regardless of the position. I put in another trigger, 'release freeze,' that would release them. I also included a suggestion that he would not associate with me with either the freezing or the unfreezing of his limbs. He wouldn't even think to try moving his limbs while frozen but would be unconcerned if he did try, even if asked, and failed.

I spoke the trigger that froze him and then woke him up. I released the strap from the D ring that connected to his right foot and asked him to move his foot up off the bed a bit so that I could get the cuff off. He said that he couldn't move his foot, but he didn't seem concerned about that. I was getting very excited about the prospects of success!

I quickly retranced him and reattached the strap from his foot to the D-ring. I knew that the freeze left him unable to move but was worried about him breaking out of the post-hypnotic suggestion if the situation got too dire for him. I couldn't risk him breaking free and going to the cops - or, hurting me in the process.

I was considering what to do next when I had a brilliant thought! I put in a trigger of 'Submit.'

I told him that when I said, 'Submit,' that it would be followed by one or more commands telling him what he was to do for me/ He would want to follow my commands to show me his submission to me and love for me. I told him that he would not remember the word 'Submit' nor any of the commands. Instead, he would think that it was his idea and that he was doing it because he'd just thought to do whatever I'd suggested. I said that any thoughts about not following those commands would cause him pain in his heart - and in his testicles. Owwww!

'Submit' was a HUGE reach. But, if you don't try, then you have failed.

I doubt that he would have agreed to accepting the trigger if he'd understood the full implications of 'Submit.' Those implications were about to be made manifest.

I worked with him submitting to 10 minor commands, and praising him every time he followed them - which was every time.

Now, for a true test. I woke him up, but before he could get his bearings, I hit him.

"Submit, you will get up and wire as much money as you can to the account number that you ask me for."

Waiting... waiting... waiting... Rats! He was struggling with that. I guess that I had finally crossed a boundary for him.

"Submit. You will submit to me right now. Submit, You will get up and wire half of the money that you have in checking to the account number that you ask me for. Submit to me because you love me and you don't want to lose me."

Hardly a pause before he said, "Beth, I love you so much and I've been thinking about this and... well... I want to give you something as a way of showing my love for you and my commitment to eventually marry you. But to do so, I'll need for you to find your bank routing and account numbers."

Well, fuck me! I didn't need his money, so I quickly retranced him and erased the memory of that whole episode. Now, I was getting somewhere.

I left him tranced while I cleaned up the bedroom and put everything in either the bedside drawers or in the second bedroom.

I thought about leaving it out, but wasn't sure whether seeing those things might break the revised narrative.

Again, I gave him the replacement narrative wherein we'd come in, made love, and then gone to sleep and had just awoken. This way, he wouldn't remember anything that we'd done since I last gave him that narrative. After getting him to repeat all of that back and *agree!* with it, I gave him 3 sprays of Narcan up his nose and waited 10 minutes to make sure the last of the narcotics were neutralized. Can't be too careful!

I'd stopped giving him more Dex when he became able to answer me despite being deep in a trance, a while back. If he was still speeding from the Dex, I hoped that he wouldn't notice.

I woke him.

"How do you feel, love?"

"Just great, baby! I didn't think the trip had worn me out as much as it seems to have. Sorry that I fell asleep on you."

"Love, it's alright. You wore my ass out enough that I fell asleep with you. No worries."

I was feeling better and better that this would all be over much sooner than I'd thought.

I had a reason that I was doing this and, as I laid on the bed for a while, I thought about the near future. I figured that I might be able to trance him and force him to change his mind. However, I was almost 100% sure that this would breach his ethical boundaries so badly that he'd probably come out of the trance and remember everything that I've been doing.

THAT

would not do.

I needed time to come up with a contingency, and now I had the time as this was going faster than I had planned. But, I didn't want him asking me what I was thinking about or possibly finding the stuff that I'd put in the drawers or the other room, so...

"Spaceballs!"

I laid on the bed for almost an hour, trying to come up with a contingency because there would be no time if it turned out that I needed one.

Suddenly, an idea not having to do with a contingency dawned on me, but it was something that had been worrying me.

I had him put all the trigger words that he'd programmed me into a lockbox in a corner of his mind, lock it, and mentally give me the key. I said that only if I gave him the key could he retrieve them. I also told him that he would not consciously remember any of those words nor that he had ever tried to hypnotize me.

He agreed to all of that because I used the trigger of 'Submit' while he was tranced. I was forcing him to agree. If only he hadn't agreed to be bound by, and follow all the commands of, 'Submit' without reservation. I had him in a moral straightjacket.

Before I made him lock them away, I didn't ask him to tell me what those were because it was more fun if he was the only one that ever knew. I didn't ever doubt that he had no malicious intent and we would, eventually, have a lot of fun as he used them again. I was also hoping that he didn't give me any post-hypnotic commands like I was giving him.