Finally they showed us their extensive collection of child pornography. I felt sickened by the photos they showed us. I stopped smiling but the Baron wasn’t looking at me because he was so fascinated by the photos. These were high-quality photos of children at all ages – from infancy to just before puberty. The photos were divided into files of different kinds. Some photos were black and white and some were in color. There were photos of little boys, in girls’ clothing, in various states of dress and undress. Most of the photos were of girls. The girls were posed in different ways. Often these poses were suggestive. Some of the girls were in chains and some were tied up.
I felt an intense pain in my solar plexus. I felt extremely angry with the Baron and the two sisters. I knew I had to repress my anger. I also knew that I would always hate what they did to children. I could feel the absolute wrongness of their attitude.
They finally came to one photo of interest to the Baron. It was a photo of me as an infant, lying on a Satanic altar. On that altar with me there was a bell, some black candles, a ritual knife and a silver inverted pentacle. In the photo, I had a look of pain on my face, and my penis was erect. Behind me was a translucent image. It may have been a double exposure image. I don’t know. But there was a dark figure with horns that seemed to be reaching for me. The image of the dark figure was hazy. It was a shadow-like figure – what some people would call a Shade. Although I found it to be personally disturbing, I had to admit that the photo was quite unique.
“This is the one. I can tell, this is no forgery. This is the only copy of it. It’s quite valuable,” said the Baron. He turned it over to have me sign it on its back. For some reason the image of the child skeleton crucified in the basement flashed into my mind. With my left hand I drew the sign of the cross on the back of the photo.
“No, that won’t do, the Dark Mother said that we should send her this photo with your personal autograph on the back,” said Bernie. I suddenly felt confused about who I really was. Was I Kathy or was I Kerth? I couldn’t remember at that moment. So I wrote the letter “K” on the back. The Baron patted me on the back. “That’ll be just fine. Now you girls put this in an envelope, sign your names to it and I’ll pass it on to the Dark Mother with your compliments,” said the Baron.
The two sisters did as they were instructed. They put it into a large manila envelope. And they both signed their names on the front before sealing the envelope. Then Nancy opened a drawer and took out a small wooden replica of the Sphinx. She handed it to me as a present for my signing the photo. I thanked her and put it in my purse.
They had me sign some other photos of child pornography in which I had been forced to model. By signing the photos I was probably increasing the value of each one of them. It felt humiliating to sign these photos. It was as if I had approved of them. But I never felt that I’d had a choice in any of this. If I could have said “No,” I would have. By having me sign the photos that were taken of me as a child, it was as if I were agreeing to the abuse.
It was obvious to me that the Baron and the two sisters really had no respect for me. They were talking as if I was a celebrity, but in actuality to them I was just a whore. Although I forced myself to smile, it killed me to autograph these photos. I just put the letter K on the back of all of them. The two sisters placed these photos into one of their special files. They had a huge collection of child pornography – hundreds of photos. And they kept them organized with a librarian’s skill.
Some of their child pornography photos had sold for thousands of dollars. The two sisters showed the Baron an old black and white photo of a little naked girl who would later grow up to be a Senator’s wife. It was worth a small fortune.
The Baron looked at his pocket watch and said that we had to run. We all quickly walked downstairs to the lobby. We politely said goodbye and with that we escaped the house. We jumped into the back of the Baron’s limo and sped away. As the car hurtled down the empty country road, the Baron gave me the other half of the peanut butter sandwich which he had promised me earlier. I ate it quickly.
He said, “My dear Kathy, your performance today was perfectly adequate, quite adequate indeed. Although you may not understand this. We have had a most productive day.”
In Mundo sed non de Mundo 