Quod Me Nutrit Me Destruit: That Which Destroys Me with The Alternate Ending by Kimber S. Dawn Page A
Authors: Kimber S. Dawn
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a toddler.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I lean forward resting my elbows on my knees before rubbing my hands over my face. “That’s what she fucking said.” All I can do is shake my head in astonishment.
I’m pissed at myself for shoving all my shit at her. I’m pissed at myself for honestly thinking I could talk her or force her into being my sub. And I’m seething pissed at myself for thinking I had any right to even lay a finger on her, much less in her.
“I’m such a fucking asshole! Son of a bitch!” I leap from my leather chair and storm out of the room.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m in my office calling Derrick, the best PI in NYC who’s been in charge of any aspects of my life that I should call the police for, but don’t.
He answers before I sit behind my desk, plowing my hands through my hair. “Speak.”
“Derrick, I need some info and I need it by Monday morning.”
“’Kay, you know the surcharge on expedited information. Name?”
“Stella Jolie Reese. The file I have on her barely brushes the surface. Foster kid from the age seven. Shit load of foster homes throughout Louisiana. I don’t have the names of all the cities - and all my secretary could find were two foster homes - but there is mention of more.”
“You want the full monty? Or are you just looking for answers during certain time frame?”
“Full fucking monty, man. That’d be great.”
“All right. I’ll have everything to you by Sunday night, Wes.”
After I hang up, I sit in my office and stare at absolutely nothing for hours. My mind keeps splintering over and over as her words run their course on a loop in my mind.
“You have no idea what the first seventeen years of my life consisted of. What I have had to do to get to where I am today. I am not a submissive… I am a fucking fighter. Because absolutely everything I possess, I’ve had to fight like hell to get.”
“You can’t be a submissive or peek into the lifestyle when the only sexual encounters you’ve ever experienced were rapes and molestations by father, after foster father, after foster brother from the time you were a toddler. There, there’s your goddamn answer, Wesley. ”
I have a fighter on my hands.
A shattered, damaged, little fighter.
Once I get my answers, I’ll modify a stratagem.
Just because I lost this little battle, does not mean I intend on conceding.
I will readjust my tactics. Then I will fight a broken fighter.
And I will fucking win.
On Sunday night the file is faxed over from Derrick.
The shit I see, the fucking shit in that file, comes extremely close to causing the scotch I’ve consumed to make reappearance.
Stella Jolie Reese
DOB May 10, 1988
Female
Caucasian
Height: 5’7
Last documented weight: 134 lbs
Hair color: Brown
Eye Color: Hazel
Marital Status: Single
Mother: Unknown
Father: Fredrick Reese- found murdered at age 31. Police files indicate seven year old daughter (Stella Reese) was the only witness. All evidence points to the child committing the homicide in an effort to evade her father’s sexual abuse. Charges were never filed and child was placed in therapy. CPS placed child in the foster care system where she was placed in a foster home.
Other living relatives: None
During an exam immediately following the incident, the SAFE RN documentation states the following was found upon assessment:
Over six broken bones noted via X-ray that appeared to go untreated. (See below):
Both clavicles, mandible, maxilla, left femur, right humerus.
The nurses’ notes also state there were multiple abrasions, lacerations and contusions. Some of which appeared to be recent as well as healing injuries.
Also documented and photographed: Numerous bite marks covering the patient from neck to knees, most of which were located on the patient’s anterior thighs, genitalia and rectum.
There was significant scarring as well as recent in appearance due to redness and swelling lacerations
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I lean forward resting my elbows on my knees before rubbing my hands over my face. “That’s what she fucking said.” All I can do is shake my head in astonishment.
I’m pissed at myself for shoving all my shit at her. I’m pissed at myself for honestly thinking I could talk her or force her into being my sub. And I’m seething pissed at myself for thinking I had any right to even lay a finger on her, much less in her.
“I’m such a fucking asshole! Son of a bitch!” I leap from my leather chair and storm out of the room.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m in my office calling Derrick, the best PI in NYC who’s been in charge of any aspects of my life that I should call the police for, but don’t.
He answers before I sit behind my desk, plowing my hands through my hair. “Speak.”
“Derrick, I need some info and I need it by Monday morning.”
“’Kay, you know the surcharge on expedited information. Name?”
“Stella Jolie Reese. The file I have on her barely brushes the surface. Foster kid from the age seven. Shit load of foster homes throughout Louisiana. I don’t have the names of all the cities - and all my secretary could find were two foster homes - but there is mention of more.”
“You want the full monty? Or are you just looking for answers during certain time frame?”
“Full fucking monty, man. That’d be great.”
“All right. I’ll have everything to you by Sunday night, Wes.”
After I hang up, I sit in my office and stare at absolutely nothing for hours. My mind keeps splintering over and over as her words run their course on a loop in my mind.
“You have no idea what the first seventeen years of my life consisted of. What I have had to do to get to where I am today. I am not a submissive… I am a fucking fighter. Because absolutely everything I possess, I’ve had to fight like hell to get.”
“You can’t be a submissive or peek into the lifestyle when the only sexual encounters you’ve ever experienced were rapes and molestations by father, after foster father, after foster brother from the time you were a toddler. There, there’s your goddamn answer, Wesley. ”
I have a fighter on my hands.
A shattered, damaged, little fighter.
Once I get my answers, I’ll modify a stratagem.
Just because I lost this little battle, does not mean I intend on conceding.
I will readjust my tactics. Then I will fight a broken fighter.
And I will fucking win.
On Sunday night the file is faxed over from Derrick.
The shit I see, the fucking shit in that file, comes extremely close to causing the scotch I’ve consumed to make reappearance.
Stella Jolie Reese
DOB May 10, 1988
Female
Caucasian
Height: 5’7
Last documented weight: 134 lbs
Hair color: Brown
Eye Color: Hazel
Marital Status: Single
Mother: Unknown
Father: Fredrick Reese- found murdered at age 31. Police files indicate seven year old daughter (Stella Reese) was the only witness. All evidence points to the child committing the homicide in an effort to evade her father’s sexual abuse. Charges were never filed and child was placed in therapy. CPS placed child in the foster care system where she was placed in a foster home.
Other living relatives: None
During an exam immediately following the incident, the SAFE RN documentation states the following was found upon assessment:
Over six broken bones noted via X-ray that appeared to go untreated. (See below):
Both clavicles, mandible, maxilla, left femur, right humerus.
The nurses’ notes also state there were multiple abrasions, lacerations and contusions. Some of which appeared to be recent as well as healing injuries.
Also documented and photographed: Numerous bite marks covering the patient from neck to knees, most of which were located on the patient’s anterior thighs, genitalia and rectum.
There was significant scarring as well as recent in appearance due to redness and swelling lacerations
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