Forced to wear a chastity belt!
Rachael Senft whose mum Carole was forced to wear a chastity belt
Thursday 7th February 2008
Carole Alden was under the spell of a monster. Her daughter, Rachael Senft, 21, feared the only way she'd escape was if she was dead.
Slamming my locker door shut, I switched on my mobile and headed for the car park outside the department store where I'd just finished my shift. I had two messages waiting, so before putting my key in the ignition, I listened to the first one.
It was my sister, Thalia, 23. Her hysterical sobs suddenly filled my car.
'Rachael, if you're there, pick up,' she cried. 'Something's happened to Mum.'
A sickening feeling filled my stomach. He's finally gone and done it.
That beast of a husband my mum, Carole Alden, 46, shared her life with, must have got bored with inflicting beatings and ritual humiliation. I was terrified that, this time, he'd killed her.
I'd known from day one that Marty Sessions, 49, was bad news. The fact he was in prison should have told us something. He got in touch in 2001 after Mum's boyfriend, his friend Andy Bristow, committed suicide. He sent Mum condolences from his cell.
Mum was a prize-winning artist with a laid-back attitude and a heart of gold. Great qualities when she was taking in stray animals and nursing them back to health. But dangerous when people took advantage of her good nature.
I suppose she saw Marty as one of those vulnerable animals who just needed love to fix him. But it would take a lot more than a bit of TLC to drag Marty Sessions onto the straight and narrow. I don't know what he was serving time for in Utah State Prison, but when he was released in summer 2001, Mum announced he'd be coming to stay with us in Holden, Millard County, Utah.
'Just until he gets back on his feet,' she said.
But he seemed more interested in telling us tales about his dodgy past than making a fresh start.
'I was a drug dealer,' he'd boast. 'I cracked safes and tortured men when I served in Vietnam.'
With his long, straggly hair and tattoos, most people would have crossed the street to avoid him. Not Mum. She welcomed him into our home, treating him like a project she was going to put right. Within months, her smiles had turned to adoring gazes. I couldn't believe my successful, beautiful mum had fallen for this loser.
'But why?' I'd ask her.
He was quiet around me, but I'd heard him speaking to Mum like she was a piece of rubbish. My brother, Levi, then 18, had moved out, but I was worried about my little brother and sister, Isaac, 8, and Iris, 3, from Mum's second marriage.
'I love him,' Mum insisted.
'But he treats you so badly,' I said, despairing.
Over the next few years, Marty got his feet well and truly under the table. He ordered Mum around the house like a slave, but it was as though she'd been brainwashed. In May 2004, I went to live with my dad, Richard, 47, before enrolling on a social work course at Utah State University.
I rarely made the 400-mile trip home, as there was such a bad atmosphere, but when I did go back at Christmas 2005, I got the shock of my life. Mum suggested we went to church. I didn't think anything of it, until the end of the service, when the vicar made an announcement.
'And now I'm going to marry Carole and Marty,' he said.
'What?' I gasped.
I couldn't believe they were tying the knot there and then. Watching Mum promise her life to that down-and-out made me feel sick to my stomach. But she was beaming with joy.
Afterwards, Thalia and I were constantly on the phone, discussing our worries.
'He times her when she drives to the shop and goes mad if she's back a minute late,' she told me. The shops were 10 miles away and the nearest neighbour seven.
But apparently, Marty was obsessed with the idea that Mum was cheating on him. Who with, I've no idea. She was trapped in that house like a prisoner. And unknown to us, behind closed doors, Marty had become even more twisted. It was years later that I found out he'd pierced Mum's genitals and forced her to wear a chastity belt so she couldn't sleep with other men.
Barbaric. It was like something from the Dark Ages. The pain must have been horrific. And the mental anguish of being abused like that, utterly degrading.
'He's crazy,' Thalia said.
That much was clear. Our calls always ended the same way: 'But what can we do?'
Short of hauling Mum out of there, we were powerless. Not long after the wedding, Thalia called me up in a right state. She'd moved out by then, too, but had spoken to Mum on the phone.
'Marty's beaten Mum with a plank,' she said. 'He's been taking drugs and is totally paranoid.'
'Has Mum gone to the police?' I asked.
'No, she's too terrified,' Thalia explained. It was sickening and so frustrating.
Mum was caught in a living hell. At first, she'd stayed out of some deluded love, now she was too scared to leave. Every few months, I'd go to visit and, each time, she looked like a little bit more of her had died.
During one visit, I was horrified at the deterioration. Mum's hair was greyer, and her eyes vacant. There were bruises where Marty had headbutted her, welts on her wrists where he'd handcuffed her.
'You have to call the police,' I said.
'I've tried,' she sobbed. 'But Marty says he'll kill me and the kids if I do.'
'Oh Mum,' I sighed. My lovely mum had become a battered wreck.
Thalia was as worried as I was.
'We need to get her out before it's too late,' I vowed.
Easier said than done. But finally, in July 2006, there was some good news.
'I've asked Marty to leave,' Mum called to tell me.
I'd been waiting for this day for years. But I still couldn't believe it was over that easily.
'How did he take it?' I asked.
'Not well,' Mum said. 'He threatened to kill me, then asked if I'd drive him to Arizona, where he'll stay with relatives.'
The thought of Mum in a car with him filled me with terror.
'You can't,' I said. 'We'll never see you alive again.'
'Don't worry,' she reassured me. 'He's already moved to a friend's he only comes here when he's drunk.'
That's what worried me the most.
'I've bought a gun for protection,' she added.
'He'll use it on you!' I cried, exasperated.
Unless Marty was locked up, Mum would never be safe. And what would it take for that to happen? Something really bad like him killing her? Now, it was Sunday, 30 July 2006, and as I listened to Thalia's message, I was convinced that's what must have happened.
Thalia answered on the first ring.
'He's killed her, hasn't he?' I blurted out. 'Marty's finally killed Mum.'
'No,' Thalia wept. 'Mum's killed Marty.'
'What,' I gasped.
'He came in drunk on Friday night, threatening to kill her,' she explained.
Luckily, Isaac, then 14, and Iris, 10, were staying with relatives.
'She'd had enough,' Thalia went on. 'I was on the phone to her and could hear him throwing things and shouting: I'm going to slaughter you, bitch! Then I heard gunshots.'
Mum had run for the dimly-lit laundry room, where she'd hidden the gun. When Marty caught up with her, fists flying, she'd pulled the trigger. He stumbled and fell, then she shot him in the head, before dragging his body outside, behind the house and into a shallow grave. Then she'd called the police.
Shocked as I was, I was pleased that evil bastard was dead but heartbroken that my poor mum was so terrified she'd had to resort to this. A couple of days later, I visited her in jail.
'Mum!' I wailed, when I saw her.
She looked about 100 years old. But she seemed quite positive.
'Don't worry,' she said. 'I'm safe.'
I just wanted to hug her, but there was glass between us.
In June 2007, Mum pleaded guilty to manslaughter. In September 2007, she appeared at Fillmore's 4th District Court and was sentenced to between one and 15 years for manslaughter and zero to five years for the desecration of a body. The court heard about the violence she suffered at the hands of Marty and how he'd forced her to wear a chastity belt.
Recently, she wrote me a letter. Thanks for sticking by me, it read. I want to lead a life that will make you and your brothers and sisters proud. I've been an embarrassment.
She could never be that. I love her so much. Mum's 47 now. I pray her parole board sees she killed Sessions because he was killing her, and releases her early. After years of torment, she deserves to be free.
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