Synopsis: Near the beautiful Treasure Beach on Jamaica – Meditation Inlet – the famous behaviour modification facility is placed. Please visit our homepage and see how we at the facility can make your teenager have some emotional growth. (http://geocities.com/meditationinlet/) To fully understand the concept of our business, please consult Wikipedia for further info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Behavior_modification_facility

A mother’s concern

How did it come to this?

 

I have been crying all evening. I made one of the most difficult decisions in my life. I have decided to send my child away.

 

How did it come to that? Well, we have to some 20 years back to my own childhood. I was a rebellious teenager. I ended up being a runaway. I was arrested. Once in jail I focused on my life and knew that I had to turn my life around so I did not turn out as my fellow inmates.

 

I graduated high school and found a job. I met my former husband. In fact he was the first man in my life. Today I can see that it was a kind of excuse to move out from home. We got a son. All seems to go well. But 15 years later we divorced. We simply outgrew each other. My husband travelled a lot due to his work, so we agreed that our son – Bill - should stay with me.

 

It seemed to work out fine for a long time. But some 6 months ago small things seemed to change. He became distant from me. He stopped to talk about his school. He started to date Brittany – a girl some streets away. I did not consider that to be a problem. I know her mother. She is a single hardworking mother like me.

 

Then a month ago, I walked in to his room and found them having sex. Of course I was shocked. They are only 16 years of age. That was when I began to find his behaviour suspicious. I went through his room. I talked to Amber – Brittany’s mother. She also investigated things at her house. We met at a café in town. It was shocking news we had to tell each other. Not only did they have unprotected sex. Apparently they also had drunk alcohol. How blind had we been? This was taking place right under our eyes.

 

Something had to be done? I have been consulting a psychologist since my divorce. So both Amber and I showed up in his office and we discussed options of solutions. First there was the possibility of a long term stay on a therapeutic boarding school, but we were after all human being with televisions. The dog cages down in Tecate like it was shown in NBC and 8 hour on a concrete floor in Jamaica did not seem to be the cure for the problem our children have. We wanted to be part of their healing process and they were not considered to be drop-outs. In fact they did rather good in school.

 

He looked through the websites of placement option for a short 3 week stay and he found one on Jamaica from a place called Meditation Inlet. They had started a new program – a wilderness program for mom and offspring. In fact it was 3 weeks for the child with one week adjusting to the program at the base camp, which was a large campus and 2 weeks for the family hiking on jungle tracks in the central Jamaica.

 

It was out of the country. First I was a little reluctant, but we searched all the programs and Aspen’s program was too long and Anasazi’s program was undergoing testing by a television show, so we did choose Medication Inlet’s bonding program as they called it.

 

We called them and after an hour doing some questionnaires on the computer, we both got our children accepted to the program. The psychologist was also happy. Apparently he gets commissions whenever he sends children off treatment – a very widespread practice as he told us.

 

We had made arrangements for them to be picked up by the escort division from the treatment place at 3 a.m. in the morning. I could not sleep. I heard my son come home. He went straight sleep. I sneaked into his room. He stank of Beer, but he looked so peaceful in the sleep. “Oh. My poor baby – if you just knew what is in store for you”. I could not sleep. I had to go down in the living room and wait there.

 

Precise 3 a.m. they rang on the front door. We sat down and discussed the transport procedure. I had to go up with them and wake him. When I had introduced them, I had to leave the room at once. They assured me that they won’t use unnecessary force on him. As one of the escorts said: “The surprise element, physical presence and verbal skills are all utilized to achieve successful results in the majority of cases.”

 

This reassured me a little and we went up to his room, where I woke him and introduced him to the men. Then I went down and hide in the kitchen. I heard a cry and when I looked out trough the keyhole when I heard them come down, I could see that he was hooded and wearing both arm and legs restraints. It was a terrifying sight, but also very calming because he has a violent temper. He got beaten in school because he took on some guys bigger than him. I would not like to have him fight with the escort team.

 

Still it was very disturbing to have to hand your only child over to some strange men. I have always told him: “Never talk to a stranger”. In a way this was against all I have told him. I cried. Then I phoned his father. First he was surprised, but he could understand my decision. He was very sorry that his work has taken up so much of his time, so he hadn’t been there for me.

 

An hour later, I got a phone call from Amber. She was also crying in the phone. I told her to come over to me and we cried and sobbed for hours.

 

The escorts phoned us about 6 hours later and told us that your children had arrived at the facility. It was a kind of relief. Now I could focus on the parent seminar I had to attend in order to be ready for my 2 weeks stays in Jamaica.

In Jamaica

 

We arrived in the airport and went over to the man holding the sign. We were about 20 people in the bus. Most of them were parents going there to visit their child in the programs, but as it turned out we were 4 people who were going on a wilderness expedition.

 

Mr. Kaufmann was a very stern looking man. His boy was in the horsemanship program, but he had decided to take his son out on this expedition because his boy was not working the program. The letters, he was receiving was full of anger toward his father placing him there. His hope was that this expedition would make his son bond with him again.

 

Mrs. Newborn had her daughter in the program. As it turned out her daughter had been a part of the same street gang; Mr. Kaufmann’s son had been a part off. Opposite the son of Mr. Kaufmann, she was done remarkable well in the program, but if she could not find a partner with similar experiences in the program like her self, she would be in danger of going back to her old ways, when she returned to her old neighbourhood. Having someone to make sure that the after-care is taken care off, when the child returns home is very important according to staff at Medication Inlet.

 

We arrived at the motel the facility owned. There we received our gear and outfit. Then we meet with Mr. Krankenstrein – the therapist. We talked about teens and dating and how to avoid them from having unprotected sex, stop their alcohol intake etc. He showed us some tools. Even a wonderful designed chastity belt from Berlin made out of steel. Most importantly our session with Mr. Krankenstein confirmed what we learned at the parent seminar. back home. We were not bad parents. Every youth made a number of mistakes. As a parent you don’t have to agree off them all. They learn by their mistakes. But they also have to learn that very decision they make have consequences. Their decisions had made them ending up here. It was only they and their willingness to work with themselves that could get them home again.

 

After our therapist left we continued to talk. It was odd how similar our stories were. We all were concerned parents working double shifts to buy the best for our children. Somehow they anyway managed to slip off the road of purity and temperance. It was odd. Then we all talked about our ex. It was late before we went to our room.

Gearing up

 

The next morning we waited for our transport to the campus. When a cart came with one of the students, who were on a long-term stay, we got a shock. She was pulling cart all dressed up like a human horse. When she saw her parents, they ran to her and hugged her. We could hear them sob. They soon drove off. Then another cart came – and another one.

 

Suddenly it was Bill and Brittany, who pulled a cart into the parking yard. Of course, I hugged him and I could see tears in his eyes too. “I love you. Oh my darling. I love you.” I said.  When I had comforted him, I stood a step back, so I could see his outfit.

 

From top to bottom: He had a head-harness on with blinkers and a bit gag in this mouth. There were reins attach to the harness so a driver could control his directions. His body was enclosed in a very heavy leather corset. It was laced very tight. It could not believe that they had been able to put him in it. What an unbelievable waist! There were D-rings on the side of the corset and small chains were going to his arms which were cuffed and connect both to the corset and the cart. A small detachable leather flap was going between his legs covering his genitals. From the corset a leather strap was going up to a leather collar which immobilized his head.

 

Brittany was in a similar outfit, but her corset covered her nipples. They were both trying to say some thing. I think that they pleaded us to free them, but we knew from the parent seminar that they either were in the denial phase, guilt trip phase, anger phase or negotiation phase.

 

There was no reason for us to remove the gag and hear them deny their actions by saying something like: “I can’t believe you did this to me!”, “I don’t belong here!”, “I’m not learning anything; all they do is baby-sitting me!”, “The kids here have much worse problems than mine!”, “They have criminals, kooks, and drug addicts here!”

 

They are so cleaver at the parent seminars, but of course they are use to deal with a lot of children with those problems. You may wonder why I was so quick to accept my son being in such overwhelming restraints. But during the seminars we also talked about the high number of deaths in the industry. The fact is that children of dies every year when staff members try to calm them down and have to restrain them. Not even cattle pods and pepper spray which is fairly used at other behaviour manipulation facilities seems to prevent these deaths.

 

That is why the staff at Meditation Inlet uses another approach. When student arrives he or she is put in a discipline corset. They are cuffed at hands and feet. Most of the air is compressed out their lunges which make them less motivated to argue, fight and even run away.

 

Bill certainly looked unable to do something out of order.

 

We loaded our gear and started to walk out. Soon we left the main road and went on to a small track. Whenever it became too hard for our children to pull the cart, a staff member came over with a whip and gave them a lash or two. It seemed to motivate them. However, one time we had to push in order to help them on a slippery part of the track. They were reddish on their buttocks.

 

We were told by the staff members that we had to see to that they got something to drink regularly and so we did. The students were able to drink water despite the gag. They must have been trained very well during the first week.

 

Then it was time for lunch. It was the philosophy of Meditation Inlet that troubled youth needs to be controlled like smaller children. We parent have to take control of them and then they have to earn our trust again.

 

A staff member came over to show me how to free Bill from the cart and maintain control over him. First I had to make sure that there was a short chain going between the legs so he couldn’t run. Then I had to take the chains to his hand and connect them to a D-ring on the back of the corset. Finally I had to connect the cuffs on this upper arm to two other D-rings on the corset, so his arms held into his body. When all these precautions were made it was time for me to disconnect him from the cart.

 

When he was free the staff member showed me how to control him by holding on to the chains. When I removed the gag, the first thing he said was: “Mother. What have you done? Why have you put me here? This has been so terrible. Please take me home.” What a typical example of the guilt phase.

 

We also learned about the guilt phase at the seminar: Sentences like: “If you really loved me, you’d bring me home!” or “You don’t know how terrible it is here, or you’d get me out!” or “I'm going to starve; the food is disgusting!” or “No one cares about me; staff do whatever they want to me!” or “I’m treated like a prisoner!” or “You can’t believe the staff; they’ll tell you anything in order to keep me here!” or “The kids here are a bad influence on me. You should hear what they talk about!” was to expect from children going through this phase.

 

I ignored his outcry. If I took notice, he did not have to progress through the long, hard process of making real and lasting changes. I knew from the seminars that is how children are expected to react.

 

We made lunch. Because it was a family camp we were allowed to use some modern tools. As we were told it was a kind of balance. Wilderness therapy with children only is a lot tougher due to the fact that they can not leave the course. But at family camp the adults can bail out, so they are a little softer here.

 

Amber and Brittany sat down with us. We were eating when I asked him how his first week had been. Bill wouldn’t talk about it, so Brittany told her story.

 

Brittany’s story

 

“Mother woke me when two large unknown women in the room. She left running like a chicken with the head chopped off“. Amber would have been killed right at that spot, if a look could kill.

 

Amber was clearly in her anger phase. What would be the next sentence? “If you ever want to see me again, you’d better get me out of here!”, “You’ll wish you’d never done this to me!” or “I don’t want to be your child anymore!”

 

She went on with her story. “Well they put a hood over my head and I was in darkness for the next 8 hours. When they removed me they stretched on some kind of rack and I got this damn corset on. They laced it so tight that I only could grunt yes or no the first 24 hours. You can not even imagining how humiliating it was. I wetted myself on the plane. Of course I had a diaper on, but anyway. I am 16 years old. They shouldn’t do so to us.”

 

“Well, they did so to you because you were on a road towards the mortuary. We want to help you to pull your lives together. Drinking alcohol in your age – what were in your heads?”

 

“I have read the impact letter my mother wrote. It would not happen again.”

 

Aha - The negotiation phase. Of course we were warned against this kind of manipulation. They would say like: “If you bring me home, I promise there won’t be anymore problems!”, “We can work out our problems better at home as a family. We can all go to therapy together!”, “If I work hard, will you take me home by...?” or “I’m willing to work on my problems, but can’t I do it at a different school - one that will help me?” 

 

“Don’t try to fool us. Try and work with your problems instead. We won’t cave in.” I looked at Amber and she nodded, which made Brittany cry. Amber took her hands. “Darling! You can go through this program if you let your self be helped by the staff and me as a team. Please tell us more from your first week here.”

 

Brittany pulled herself together. “After being restrained in the corset, they made me sit in the hallway where I saw Bill being put in a corset also. I have never seen a boy in a corset. It was so odd. He tried to twist in his bonds but he was laced so tight that he lost consciousness. They used smell salt to revive him, when he was finished and we were taken down to a dining hall where we were served soup. We were each assigned a senior student, who watched us all time. We were not allowed to talk to each other.”

 

“For the next 2 days it was group therapy, where we had to explain the content of the impact letter to other students. We were not in the same group. We were forced to confess or they all went down on us. Every intercourse were examined and commented.” Brittany started to cry. “It was so mortifying. All these questions: Did he take you from behind? Where did you do it? Was his penis large?” She was dissolved in tears. Amber coached her as well as she could. On the seminars we were told that we should let them talk about the school and comfort them. They would of course exaggerate. It was a strategy for them to make us feel sorry for them. Some of it they would make up. Not because they are bad children, but because self-healing is hard work.

 

“Then on the third day we were taken to the stables. There they had an awful kind of machine which they called “The walker”. It is a kind of a carousel with chains hanging down from the ceiling. We were hooked up to it and order to go around leaded by the chain, so we could get into shape. Bill would not go, so they pierced him in his nipples and connected the chain to them. It was awful.”

 

I looked at his breast. I had not noticed it before. Yes, there was a ring in each of his nipples and they had put small bells to the rings. There had been so many new impressions today, so I had not noticed. Amber was also shocked. I was about to say something when a guard came over. I pointed at the bells.

 

“Oh. You have signed consent to this in the enrolment contract. See here.” I must have overlooked this paragraph in the contract. I turned to Bill. “I am so sorry. I did not read the contract thorough it seems.”

 

He did not even look at me. Amber broke the silence and told Brittany to continue her story.

“We were forced to exercise the most of the day and continue to write in our journal in the breaks. Then yesterday they had to take precautions against the increased risk of Bill catching prostate cancer.”

 

I was a huge question mark. How do they do that?

 

Brittany sobbed and Bill face turned read. She voice stuttered as she continued. “They took me to some kind of bench were I was tied up. Totally tied up! I could not move an inch. Before they hooded me Bill came in – also hooded. He had latex pants on with a sheath to his penis. There was also a kind of pump which Bill has told me was connected to a butt plug.”

 

“Butt plug?” I had not heard the term before.

 

“You know. I kind of rubber thing which a stuffed up in your behind.”

 

My jaw dropped. Amber was shocked too. Why did we not read that contract carefully? We must have been in a lot of stress.

 

“Well, I got my hood on and then I felt something vibrating down – down - you know where.”

 

I wanted her to stop her story, but a part of me did not. Parents should not know about the sex-lives of their children. Neither should the children know about our sex-lives. But I hate to admit it. Something was becoming wet on my own body.

 

“They later told me that it was a vibrator so it would not hurt so much when Bill entered me.” She wept again. “I tried to fight it, but it turned me on. I could not help it.” It took some minutes before she got hold on herself again. “Then Bill entered me. He gave me a good work over. I could feel his penis getting hotter. It must have been when he came. He retracted, but then they continued to work me over with the vibrator and brought me to a point, I have felt before. I hated myself for caving into their treatment, but it was so nice. I have never felt so before. It was a waves and waves of pleasure rolled through my body.”

 

“Honey - Slow down a little.” Amber tried to cut in. She was clearly very discomforted by hearing Brittany’s story.

 

Suddenly Bill spoke. He had listened to her story all time. “I don’t know how they did it. I know that I am not a gay but the butt plug made me have a hard-on almost at the same. I never saw Brittany. All I know was that they force me into a bath room where I received an enema before they put the butt plug in. Then I was hooded and followed somewhere where my penis was put inside something. They increased the size of the butt plug to a point where I was a kind of forced to have an orgasm. The flow of semen just seemed to go on forever. When the hood came off, I was back in the bath room, where they switch the inflatable butt plug with an ordinary one. The whole week has been awful.”

 

Brittany cut in again. “Yes and they gave us an enema this morning again. Two times in a row in fact to make sure that we would not need to use the toilet for the big thing the first day.” Amber looked at me and nodded. They were not finished using the guilt phase on us.

 

The lunch was over. The children were hook up to the cart once more. The track were becoming in a poorer condition. We had to help the children a lot of times, but they still received a lash with the whip or two. It was a harsh expedition, but detoxification is not easy. We have to push our children to their limit for their own good.

 

Our dinner was conducted in silence. Everybody was tired. Tents were put up and we all went to bed. I had to go into the wood to pee and when I came back into the tent, I could see Bill had cried. “Relax – honey. Mom is here with you.” He turned away from me. This was not going to be easy.