It’s that they are so privileged that they can’t see how or care enough about other people being harmed or even inured.
The privileged are always too privileged, to ensconced in privilege and intent on keeping it to worry about people who have been inured.
The first inurnment started in London.
They only care about how things look. All have come under the control of a narcissist and all a narcissist thinks is important. They think like narcissists now, or is that what celebrity is ?
Selfish people have a whale of a time with the other whales. I knew whales from outside England once but people were too selfish to allow me to continue to know them. I was told it was a danger to them, they could be caught out. So were my other abilities, connections, family and education.
It was exciting for them, they hadn’t been raised around the whales of the world so they would do anything to shimmy or Shylock their way next to the power makers of the world. Lying, fraud, sex crimes, no issue. A sex slave might come in handy.
You want it darker ?
People say that the sex slave was the one with the claws but they weren’t privy to the conversations that I was privy to. It’s not only feminists who would have had their stomachs turned by these traumatic conversations. The poor sex slave. The poor woman, her only choice was to be in a brothel with multiple men or to be an owned person in the UK. Yes she had white skin, it’s not right to use the word slave, but that white skin that was her calling card. She wasn’t allowed to get the sun on her skin.
She had to make it whiter.
The poor inured woman who was not allowed to get the sun on her skin. In Britain. Because there are so many sunny days.
I mean, it’s not like you can take a sex slave into other distinctions, the tropical ones.
Who would stay for this crap? Some people pointed out it’s because I am from a high net worth background and that I know other high net worth people that this experience was not worth staying for… but this is why no woman, no educated woman, no middle class woman, no women who is worth anything would have stayed for this.
I walked up to the sex slave once in broad daylight to talk to her, to check on her, I think she could sense it and she attacked me.
I was a young feminist fresh out of Sydney University. I had been taught to be concerned about the plight of other women. I was going to suggest she just disappeared and found a job as a shop girl. I was just about to disappear myself. They didn’t have my passport.
The sex slave was chattel, in the same way that he was trying to make me chattel. Being chattel, what does that mean, estoppel? I hope she got a pretty little penny for her retirement.
He was a poor kid from a poor family. I had been raised in the top one percent I was used to being used, I wouldn’t spend any money on anyone there. I went off every night and visited an American Deli by myself that sold fresh healthy food, and made myself an expensive twenty pound salad. I didn’t have enough money to get an apartment. I was in danger in a council flat that had a hole burnt into the floor. It was terrifying. It was a ghetto. It didn’t have a kitchen. The other people who lived there begged all day. There was urine in the lifts. It was safe to take the stairs. Don’t be outside at nighttime. People would hang their heads out the window.
It was somewhere over the rainbow narcissism; I thought he was going to pay me. They were spending the money on hookers, drugs, heroine, cocaine, the apartment, holidays and staff. I was never around drugs though, if offered a joint I wouldn’t smoke it. He was making investments with the money. He had been raised a poor kid and it showed; I told him to invest in real estate.
Don’t let them make you act fool you. Don’t be a fool.
I heard some things about the sex slave’s apartment. This is what another woman and I, Madame X and I were also offered.
I was told that no other men would be allowed to come over. I was told that no one would ever be allowed to visit. I was told that I was never allowed to leave the apartment. I was told that I wasn’t allowed to go outside. I asked if I could choose my own flatmate. He said no, it had to be the woman who was coercively controlling me. The one who was ensuring that I didn’t wear the clothes that I wanted to wear, that I couldn’t wear makeup, that couldn’t shower at the apartment. The quip always was that “if you wear that or do your makeup I won’t be about to keep them away from you.” “We have to tell them all these lies about you. They don’t like “big areola” so we have told them that you have large areola. One of the men took out that girl who won the lotto, she had disgusting table manners and couldn’t hold her fork. Same area, so now we are saying that about you too. We’ve polled them on what they don’t like in bed and we have said that you are every single one of those things. Being forced to have sex the other night, you didn’t move a muscle, you were passive. So it wasn’t a rape you are just a pussycat in bed.
When I asked for a house keeper he lit up and scoffed “yeah my whore got into me for one.”
I had a private viewing of the apartment that had been selected for me. I found out after what all the rules would be. So with a chill in my bones, even though it was high summer I went to see the apartment.
It was sold to me initially as a safe place to go so wasn’t forced to have sex again and I could wear makeup and choose my clothes. He would buy me a new wardrobe and jewellery but no other man would be able to see me or check on me to see if I was ok. No other man ever has anyway. It wasn’t something he should have worried about.
I had lived at the Quay Apartments at Sydney University. I had lived in a terrace house in Paddington, I had Cliff Ave Avoca penthouse that I could use at anytime. I had the Gold Coast apartment on the Indy track right near narrowneck. I had my own Harbourside garden apartment. I lived off the rent from it but it wasn’t enough for a similar apartment in London, because I wasn’t being paid so I couldn’t cover my living expenses and rent without being paid.
My first house was going to be harbourfront at Birchgrove, I’d looked at buy blocks of flats at Balmoral Beach and Manly.
Nobody wants to live in a guilded cage, no woman wants to be complicit in the inurment of another woman.
I asked if I could bring my Chihuahua and Sheltie over. He said no dogs. I asked if I could please have a garden. He said no garden. I asked if I could choose my flatmate. If I had a man there he could have stood up for me. It was unrealistic to think that I could have a man there. He said it had to be the anti-madam, Madame X.
I don’t know if there were other women in this situation. Were there only two inured women ? It was a typical thing having an apartment to use. This was like a basement. I was to never leave the apartment again. That’s what these guys can do and what they think they should be allowed to do.
Very few of us have slept in years. There are always those stories that will never come to the light of day. Those that you can’t prove or people who are too scared, too distraught or they have been destroyed so that the truth never sees the light of day.
I had a dream that I was going to he heard one day. But it is an unjust world and men either portray women as feminists or as bimbos to ensure that women don’t get the same rights or to have their right to human rights respected.
When I came back for a week, for my birthday, what happened?
Who are the monsters in this situation?
At home I had value. The day before I had been sitting with high net worth men and women, I was one of them.
But the upper classes only see other people as beneath them. So they sat there and humiliated me along with the rappers. Trying to abuse me in that room, with their recordings. Witnessing me be abused and doing nothing. That’s abuse and you have been a participant, unwilling or not.
At home I was a person of value. But not to him. Not there. I was just a lowly Eastern European looking woman who could be put into an apartment and inured.
I was just dark hair, olive skinned with inferior hazel eyes. They turn green when I cry.
You can play any recording that you want to about me. I am not English aristocracy only Eastern European so you are allowed to be rude to me. That monarchy fell. My great-grandfather was lined up against a wall and shot. Why ask a lowly racist trashy lotto winning scummy free whore what she thinks about the daughter of that man who was put up against a wall and shot? My grandmother. What could she know about that? You all know that she didn’t finish school and couldn’t speak any languages. You were looking for a free whore, the sex slave was taken. She’d never been to Europe or America.
They listened to egregious comments and defamation from a jealous racist who wasn’t accepted, her word was never respected. Why did you decide to respect the word of a racist? How is that working for everyone ?
She said egregious things about my family, our businesses, the people in our street because they had called the police on her. She was shunned everywhere she went. A loner and an outsider. A racist who was banned from our house due to spitting and swearing and going ballistic inside our home when our grandmother said to her, “you are not a Dural girl, where are you from. You are not like the Dural girls.” Her accent; her clothes, her deportment, her sloppiness. The greatest tell was, her racism. The swearing, the spitting and expecting to be able to swear at any foreign grandmother. Her whiteness, her Australianess, her Anglo-Saxoness. Her skin and eyes and her lotto winnings didn’t make her the superior person to anyone, even her. She was always the inferior person anywhere she went in Australia to all Australians. She was the free whore. The free orgy girl who got clothes and “walking around money”, to do the orgies and make up egregious statements about me to help with fraud and grand larceny. They made me out to be a horrible person.
You can play any recording you want to of me . Call somethings what they are, abuse. If you want to be a part of abuse, or want to make egregious statements about me don’t come near me. As I said I to our celebrity before he attempted to inure me, “Be polite or I won’t be her.” Then, “You don’t know how to talk to women do you?”
The week before; for my birthday I sat with men who were more important, who knew the world’s most powerful people not the world’s unknown rappers. Look at you guys hanging out with gangsters.
As I am not an upper English person I guess they all tell everyone about how the low the bar was set for me and talk and tell everyone about the recordings. There is only discretion for some people, they make jokes openly about foreign people. People who lack discretion lack class. You don’t have to be upper class to be a class act.
Those racist men refused to allow me to report the crime of being raped and held hostage the next morning. They dumped me at the airport after the rape.
Only the big toothy grin from the girl who was jealous she was known for jealousy. The teachers said why don’t you have her charged why are you putting up with stalking and hate speech?
All the egregious things he said right to my face including allowing the rappers to jump on not for a gang rape but a gang bullying. I was to be bullied in that room so they could lower who I was in the eyes of everyone. They had the trashy racists word, all egregious things she made up due to her insecurity about being a lotto winner.
The big toothy cavewoman girl, no one listened to her; everything you have ever said that she told you has been egregious. Please don’t repeat defamation.
So was mimicked for her accent and cantering up and down the halls saying “Horsey, horsey.” At one point she even pretended that she had horses at home and stables. I guess she had been doing her “horsey,horsey” since the days she was in closed cult, with long hand made skirt, head scarf, that was what her imagination came up with, she was raised without books, movies, pets, televisions and holidays. They needed their pretend horsies.
Uh oh Pinocchio; she just wanted to be one of the real girls. But the GPS men wouldn’t have her and called the police on her for loitering, harassment and exhibiting stalking behaviour in our quiet, road of powerful people. Don’t disturb the thoroughbreds dear.
You were all racist and repeated her racism for her. Do you still believe in her horsey?
Look at how shallow you are. Unless you had seen who I was sitting with the week before people wouldn’t believe it. Look how you’ve helped these crimes to be perpetrated and you played into the lifelong effect of brain damage, abuse and inurnment of women. Then you gaslight and say, get off your caboose.
I have the right to never hear any egregious talk again. Oh that’s right, that was wehn I still had rights. Before the men all got together like a passive gang of thieves and decided that it “would be better for me” if I didn’t have any rights at all. They just had to be passive and to sit back and watch all my rights be taken so that I could raped another 4000 thousand times. That’s what denying it all, and hiding did. May God have mercy on your souls. You little Byron Bay fakes.