DISCLAIMER: Original story. Don't expect usual stuff. However, it will have violence, sex, bad doings, references to rape and child molestation, as well as other bits of horrors.

RED SOX: 2007 World Series Champs!

PATRIOTS: They are almost too exciting to watch!

## Post Traumatic Treat

## by

## phair

Part 2

The filthy mattress at the far end of the loft lay bare. The pile of bodies roused to the smattering of the early morning conversation and frequent curses from Dakota. One of the brighter members of the orgy noticed Kierce's gun and badge. She, in turn, woke several others and then the whole group was a blur of movement as hung over but frightened men and women raced for the elevator or stairwell while gathering their clothes and whatever else they could recover from the previous evening's debris.

Kierce ignored them as she silently strolled around the dingy loft. Her eyes flickered frequently to the half finished art works scattered without care around the dark and desolate space. Yet, her gaze always returned to the naked woman sitting on a broken rear seat bench from some type of SUV. It was the only piece of furniture, if you could even call it that, in the entire space. Dakota was so engrossed in the file she was reading, she didn't even notice Kierce's nearly constant observation of her.

The woman's body was, in its own way, an unfinished piece of art. The mass of black hair was strung with leather braids and beads and feathered roach clips. Olive skin was litter with splashes of darker ink depicting mythical animals or viscous curses. These islands of blackness were interrupted by flashes of metal from multiple pieces of body jewelry. The left ear was pierced from lobe to beyond the rounded top but the other was unadorned. A thick metal bull ring graced the pierced septum. The full luscious red bottom lip was accented at both ends by hoop rings. Both nipples supported heavy barbells. There was an extra piercing beneath her breast line to create a third nipple. Sparkling gems twinkled from the belly button and the hairless pussy.

However, Kierce's focus returned over and over to the brand. A hideous curse burned into the tender flesh across the woman's throat. How much does someone need to hate themselves to not only disfigure but insult their very image?

Dakota hurled the file across the room, "How did those sons of bitches get my medical files and my juvenile records and my adult dismissal? Those are supposed to be sealed."

"I'd like to believe it took a big bribe to a high ranking member of the DA's office but," Kierce gave a gentle smile, "they probably only needed to ask a favor from a parishioner who works in the police department."

"You think this is funny?" Dakota stood and stalked toward Kierce. "You think, it's okay for them to do this to me because I'm nothing? They pretend it's okay to do it to me because I'm just another damned pervert? Well, it's not okay! They let him make me the pervert I am today. So, it's not okay that he continues to reap while I do all the sowing." She was shaking now and tears were close, "It's not okay for him to get to fuck me all over again. Even if I live in this dung hole. Even if I'm completely disgusting. It's not okay! It's still not okay!"

"You're wrong," Kierce stated.

Dakota was stunned to silence by the clipped remark.

"You're absolutely wrong, Dakota. You are not disgusting. You are beautiful." Kierce reached out her hand and cautiously traced the letters branded into the soft skin, "That's why he went after you. He wanted your beauty. He wanted your innocence. He wanted to destroy both."

Dakota closed her stinging eyes and shivered in misery as each letter of her shame was traced. "I am completely and totally destroyed. So, I guess, he wins again."

Kierce pulled Dakota close and let the woman rest on her shoulder as she hushed in an unpierced ear, "You're wrong. You are lovelier than words can explain. You are the embodiment of art; the art of a survivor."

Dakota sighed and rested wearily on the Special Agent. "But, my innocence is forever lost."

"No, she's not. She murdered your uncle no more than an hour ago."

Dakota felt the chronic ache in her chest ease just a bit. "She always was a good little girl."

part 3

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