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             His Canvas 
             Alan couldn't believe it. He had been kind enough to ditch out 
              on his friends to come pick up his younger sister at the mall because 
              her ride fell through - if she had ever had one in the first place, 
              which he doubted - and now she was standing around chatting with 
              her friends as he waited in the car. She knew he was there - their 
              eyes had met when he pulled up. Their parents had called him on 
              his cell and told him how Donna had called up and said her ride 
              wasn't going home until later - Alan figured it was just Donna trying 
              to stay out past her curfew - she was 15 and was supposed to be 
              home by ten. Of course his parent's made him go pick her up despite 
              his plans. He, being 18, didn't have a curfew, not really - let 
              us know if you'll be out past midnight, and give us a time you think 
              you'll be in. That was it. And now he was here, dealing with the 
              brat. 
             He was pissed, obviously, to get dragged away to pick her up. 
              He had always been the good one, and her the snotty little bitch 
              whom some how got spoiled. She was manipulative and just so cute 
              and adorable when she wanted to be. Hell, Alan spoiled her as much 
              as their parents had - it had been hard not to. Now she was a little 
              princess, or so she thought. 
            He glared at her from the car, his temper rising. She and her little 
              friends were all whored up, looking like so celebrity slut or hooker 
              on the corner. Small hoochie skirts to show off legs, tight little 
              shirts exposing the small cleavage they had and the super skinny, 
              anorexic look that seemed to be so cool amongst girls these days, 
              sadly. Worse still, she was smoking a cigarette right in front of 
              him. She even turned his way when she blew smoke out just to show 
              what she was doing. 
            He laid his hand on the horn, startling everyone standing in the 
              outside lounge area where all the 'cool' kids hung out. He wasn't 
              waiting for her. If she didn't come now, he'd pick her up and throw 
              her in the car. 
            Donna tossed her cig to the ground and hustled over to the car. 
              "What the fuck is your problem?" 
            Alan was not in the mood. "Shut up. And watch your mouth. 
              I'm doing you a favor, Donna." 
            "Whatever. Be a favor if you didn't show up. And what the 
              fuck is with the fucking horn? God, you are such an embarrassment." 
            "Listen," Alan shouted back. He usually just put up with 
              her lip, but he was annoyed now, and his tone shocked her. "I 
              am not your chauffer. I was out with my friends tonight and I came 
              to pick you up for Mom and Dad. I don't want to hear it from you." 
            "Yeah, whatever. You and your lame-ass friends. Probably sitting 
              around jerking each other off." 
            "Better than tramping around the mall looking like a hooker." 
            "Fuck you! Course you'd think I looked like a hooker. Shit, 
              bet the only way you could even get laid is if you paid for it, 
              and she'd probably charge you extra." Donna didn't mean that, 
              she just said it cause she was mad. She actually thought her brother 
              was rather handsome, and she liked his friends - they had always 
              been nice to her. "Least I'm popular." 
            "Yeah, cause that's all that matters in life." 
            "Yeah! And guys want me! They think I look hot." 
            "Guys want to fuck you cause you look like a little slut!" 
              Alan rarely used the "f" word, especially around family, 
              but he was pissed off. 
            "So? What if they do? What if I want to fuck them? I do what 
              the hell I want!" 
            Her yelling at him like that let him get a whiff of her breath. 
              Alcohol. "You've been drinking?" 
            "Yeah, so? The fuck to do you care? What are you going to 
              do about it?" 
            "I can't fucking believe you!" Alan glared at her, his 
              anger visible in his eyes. 
            It only goaded her on. "Yeah, nothing! I can drink, I can 
              smoke, I can fuck around all I want and there's nothing you or Mom 
              or Dad can do about it!" She had a smug, self-satisfied look 
              on her face. 
            That pushed him over the edge. Finally, she had done it. "Oh, 
              you think not! Fine, we'll see about that." He slammed his 
              foot on the gas and started hauling ass down the road, making turns 
              she did not know - he was no longer taking her home. 
            "Where the hell are we going?" Donna demanded, staring 
              out the window as Alan drove them through some of the less savory 
              parts of town. 
            "Shut the fuck up, you god damn bitch!" Alan had never 
              spoken to her like that before, nor had she ever seen him so mad. 
              Donna was actually afraid - she did exactly as he commanded. She 
              shut the fuck up. 
            It was another ten minutes before Alan pulled his car into the 
              alley. It was a dump of a vehicle and would not look out of place 
              here with these dilapidated buildings. Donna figured her was going 
              to show her some strung out hooker, like she would think that that's 
              what she would be like soon if she didn't change her life. God, 
              what a fucking retard, she thought. 
            Alan had other ideas, but Donna did not know that. When he yanked 
              open her door and pulled her from the car, she didn't resist, but 
              nor did she go easily with him. He drug her into the nearby building 
              - it seemed to be some vacant factory or something, so dingy, dirty 
              basement. It smelled of musk and mold. 
            Alan pushed his sister forward, into the room. She stumbled a bit 
              then turned to, starting to give him some shit, "What the fuck 
              are - " 
            She never finished her sentence. His fist collided with her cheek, 
              sending her falling hard to the ground. It wasn't a real hard punch, 
              but it was enough to shut her up, put some fear in her, and stun 
              her a bit. Alan approached, pulling a long pocket knife out. Donna's 
              head was reeling from the hit - she had no clue what was going on. 
              Alan sneered, "You want to look like a slut, fine." He 
              grabbed her shirt and sliced it in half. "You'll look like 
              a slut. Sluts are bare-ass naked." He cut off her skirt, then 
              her bra and panties. He left her in socks and shoes for the moment 
              cause her thought it was funny. 
            Donna's voice was weak - she was utterly confused and completely 
              shocked. "What the fuck - " 
            His back hand caught her across the cheek. "I said watch your 
              mouth. You know, it's about time someone put you in your place, 
              you spoiled little brat. Mom and Dad fawn over you like a little 
              angel, and you are a horrible bitch. You don't treat anyone with 
              respect. After tonight, that's going to be different, isn't it?" 
            Alan rooted through a duffle bag - where he had gotten it, though, 
              she had no clue. Maybe it had been in his car and she hadn't noticed 
              it when he dragged her in. She was too stunned and scared to do 
              anything else other than lie there, eyes wide and naked. 
            Alan and his girlfriend had found this place, a place to indulge 
              in her little delights - she liked to be hurt, and he discovered 
              that he really enjoyed hurting her, dominating her. The dirt and 
              filgth of the place was highly appealing, it set the perfect stage 
              for an abduction/rape scene. Only this time he wasn't with his girlfriend 
              and he wasn't role-playing. He was going to teach his sexy little 
              sister a lesson once and for all. 
            He stalked to her and grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet. 
              He lifted her lithe form into the air with ease that surprised Donna 
              and quickly handcuffed her wrists together around a thick, rusted 
              water pipe. Her gentle released his grip, lettering her arms take 
              her weight. He stepped back and laughed at her, his little stick 
              of a sister, dangling by her hands from the pipe. Her feet were 
              a good foot off the ground. 
            "Alan," she pleased, her voice filled with fear. "Please 
              let me down. Alan, it hurts, please!" 
            Alan laughed at her plight. "That's nothing, Donna. That's 
              not even the beginning." He began to run his fingers up and 
              down her naked body, letting them roam where-ever they went. He 
              had always thought his sister was a sexy little thing - he had had 
              more than his share of fantasies about her for years. It used to 
              bother him, but now he was excited. His hands caressed her bare 
              breasts, rubbing her nipples to hardness, then slowly drifted down 
              to between her legs, gliding across her small round mound. That 
              tight little body had driven hi crazy for years, and now it was 
              his play thing. He gave her a quick smack on the ass and laughed 
              as she swayed back and forth on the pipe. 
            Donna was disgusted by his touch, but she was too scared to do 
              anything. Sure, Alan was a handsome guy, kind of hot, too, especially 
              when he was dressed up for a date with that bitch girlfriend of 
              his - Donna had always been a little jealous of that girl stealing 
              her brother's attention. She had had her little fantasies, too, 
              but they all involved Alan adoring her and showering her with praise 
              and love and affection - not this! 
            Alan was on his cell phone a few steps away from his sister's hanging 
              form. "Hey, Mom. Yeah, I got her. No, no problems at all. Well, 
              no more than usually, yeah," he said with a laugh. "No, 
              everything's fine. Look, Donna and I were thinking about going out 
              to a movie or something. Yeah, with me! Look, I just figured it 
              would be cool if she was out a little later with me, that's all." 
            Donna's eyes were wide with shock. He was saying they were going 
              to a movie? That meant he could keep her here for two hours, easily! 
              "Mom!" she shouted. "Mom! Alan's got me tied up in 
              some building some where! MOM!! HELP!!!!" 
            "Yeah, I don't know what she's on about, either. Just kidding 
              around I guess, you know her." Alan shot Donna an icy glare, 
              and was silent again. "It's cool? Great! See you guys later, 
              then. You're right - you probably will be. Good night then!" 
              He hung up and his pleasant, normal voice dropped instantly to a 
              snarl. "Don't ever do that again." He lunged at her and 
              slammed his fist dead into her stomach, knocking the wind from her 
              lungs. She was sent swaying on the pipe and coughing to regain her 
              breath. "You don't know who can hear you, bitch, and you don't 
              want anyone around here to come in here. Especially you being all 
              tied up and naked. I swear to God if someone shows up, I'll walk 
              out and let them do whatever they want to you." 
            Donna shuddered. He wasn't joking. 
            "I must admit," he sneered, "seeing you hanging 
              there, you've got me all hard." He yanked his cock from his 
              pants, releasing his eight inch for her to see. "What are we 
              going to do about that, huh, Donna? I know what we're going to do! 
              You want to be a whore so bad, you'll be one. Mine!" 
            He grabbed her legs and lifted her up intol her thighs were in 
              line with his. He leaned into her, pushing his hard cock against 
              her cunt, humping her body but nor penetrating her, not yet. "No, 
              Alan!" she whimpered. "Don't please. I'll be good, I swear." 
            "Oh, you swear, do you? Well, that should make it all better." 
              He laughed and continued to jam his hard cock against her cunt. 
              "You're not a good girl, Donna. You're my fuck toy now. I do 
              with you what I want, you little slut. And right now, I want your 
              dirty little cunt." 
            He stabbed his cock into her. Donna grunted with pain as her cunt 
              was pierced. He met resistance, and he drew back and plunged again, 
              forcing his thick rod deep into her. He could feel some heat and 
              wetness - he had broken her hymen. He smiled - at least he wasn't 
              going to catch anything from her, then. She wasn't as much of a 
              whore as she seemed. 
            Donna was frozen, then, her whole body becoming rigid like a doll. 
              She hung the pile, tears starting to well up in her eyes. She didn't 
              struggle, she didn't move. She let his cock invade her body, let 
              him fuck away at her. She moaned abscently as he did so, sometimes 
              yelping in pain when he jabbed her hard. She had been a virgin, 
              she had been waiting for a boyfriend, so one who cared, and now 
              her brother had ripped that away from her, her older brother whom 
              she had always looked up to and trusted was violating her horribly 
              and he simply laughed and moaned with glee as he did so. 
            It wasn't long before Alan let out a little yell and sprayed his 
              sister's cunt with his seed. He didn't pull out, he let his cum 
              erupt up and into her, sighing with pleasure as he came. He didn't 
              care if she got pregnant - in fact, he found the idea amusing. He 
              was cumming, hard, too. One of the best in his life. 
            He released his sister's legs and she dropped and swayed. Her cheeks 
              were streaked with tears, but her eyes were blank - void. It was 
              as though she was sleeping with her eyes wide open. He smacked her 
              across the face to rouse her. 
            "Not a bad fuck, bitch," he told her. I enjoyed that 
              a lot. Should have done this years ago - then I'd have had a little 
              fuck toy in my own house for when I got horny. I think I'm going 
              to fucking you all the time." 
            "Alan, please. No. Please let me go," Donna's voice was 
              cold, emotionless. "I - I won't tell Mom or Dad. I won't tell 
              anyone. Please, just no more." 
            "Come on, sis! We're bonding!" Alan laughed at her. His 
              own savagery was amazing him. He was satisfying years of pent up 
              anger, and he was enjoying himself way to much to stop now. "We 
              haven't even begun yet. What else does a slut like you need." 
              He looked over her body, hanging there before him, pondering. His 
              cum was already leaking from her pussy and dribbling down her leg 
              - that was definitely sluttish, but she needed more. Much more. 
            He had an idea. Donna watched as inspiration struck him and he 
              rushed out to his car. He was back in an instant with a large cup, 
              some convenience store soda fountain drink. He went back into his 
              bag and removed something small and a pair of pliers, or so she 
              thought. He pulled up a table from the junk and set it just behind 
              her so that she could not see what he placed upon it. He stood before 
              her, very close - hanging like she was, the siblings were eye to 
              eye. His were full of vigor, hers were devoid of anything. 
            He had a cube of ice in his hands, taken from the soda cup, and 
              her swirled the ice in circles around her nipples. She cringed from 
              the shocking cold of it, and her nippled hardened and perked out. 
              Like a flash, Alan was biting it hard, which made his sister scream 
              and squirm on the pipe, trying to pull away, but that only hurt 
              her more. He released her and reapplied the ice - the cold numbing 
              the pain a bit. "You need to be quiet. Remember what I said 
              about us being found. You are the one who needs to worry about that, 
              not me." 
            She nodded and bit her lip. Tears were streaming again. 
            The pliers came out next, and Alan gripped his sister's hard nipple 
              in a vice-grip and began to pull and twist. Her body came forward, 
              pivoting as he pulled and lifted her weight by her tit alone. The 
              squeezing was awful, the pulling was even worse, and the twisting 
              was shear agony. He had rotated the pliers a full 180 degrees and 
              he continued twisting, until they had come full circle. He released 
              her, her body falling back into place, and then he iced her other 
              nipple and lifted her again and gave her the same treatment. She 
              was crying, but she managed not to scream either time. 
            "Good girl," he said, patting her head. "Very good. 
              Big, jutting nipples - that's exactly what a slut like you needs." 
              He grabbed her nipple again in the pliers and pulled her up by them. 
              She bit her lip and squinted her eyes against the pain. "We'll 
              have to do more than this to get them big and hard enough for a 
              true slut like yourself, but it's a start. Now, you need a little 
              jewelry. Whores always have jewelry." 
            Alan was enjoying himself greatly. His erection was back and harder 
              then before and he had just started his abuse. He had so much more 
              in mind for his little slut sister. He reached down and picked up 
              another tool. He had gotten this for his girl friend - looks like 
              he was going to get to practice on his sister first. It was better 
              than way - he'd rather make sure he did it right for his girl. If 
              he screwed up now, it did not matter. 
            Donna watched as another pair of pliers came out, but these were 
              more savage than the first. Bigger with thicker handles; it wasn't 
              really pliers at all, she guessed - some other sort of tool. But, 
              either way, Alan carefully placed the think around her nipple. He 
              pulled it and then iced her nipple again to complete, jutting hardness, 
              and then replaced the tool, satisfied. Donna closed her eyes and 
              awaited the pain that would follow. 
            Alan squeezed the handles together with both hands, slamming them 
              shut quickly. Donna was biting the sides of her cheeks and still 
              she cried out, the pain so horrid. It was a burning, piercing pain, 
              like she had been stabbed right through her nipple. She looked down 
              and saw that she had been: there was a small metal pole sticking 
              through her nipple. Alan was inspecting it, then twisting something, 
              pulling, and then his hands were gone from her breast, leaving a 
              small metal ring dangling there. He gave it a flick with his finger 
              tip. Donna sucked in a deep breath, trying to control the agony 
              that burst through her boob. 
            "Very nice. Got good placement, too. I like that. I think 
              we should to the other one." 
            Donna moaned, "No, please. Not again." 
            "Yeah," Alan said with a nod. "That could be more 
              fun. I'll do the next one by hand." He pulled out a long, thin 
              pair of thongs and, after icing her nipple to hardness, he clamped 
              the thongs around the nipple and pulled it out. With his other hand, 
              he picked up a thin needle looking thing and quickly jabbed it into 
              her other nipple. 
            Donna hissed in pain, but Alan held her steady and did a little 
              fixing. In a few moments, she had a matching ring in that nipple, 
              too, and he gave it a flick with his fingers, sending a bolt of 
              pain shooting though her body. "Don't worry," he said. 
              "I've kept these sterile. We'll need to make sure you care 
              for them properly, though. And we can get some nipple extenders 
              for you, make them nice and long." 
            Alan looked up and down his sister's body, pleased with his work 
              so far. She hunger there panting, tears pouring from her eyes. It 
              was such a lovely site his cock stirred in his pants, reminding 
              him of the presence of his hard-on. What to do next? He reached 
              and hand between Donna's legs, cupping her cunt. 
            Donna gulped for air as a shock of electricity jolted her body. 
              She moaned in pleasure as pressure on her clit gave her a dose of 
              something wonderful. She had never felt such a jolt before, and 
              though it disgusted her that she was turned on right now - and very 
              tuned on at that, she was glad to have some feel other than pain. 
              Alan squeeze a little with his hand, teasing her, but Donna humped 
              her crotch against his palm, eliciting sweet joy from the touch. 
              She was moaning and sighing, having felt nothing like it before 
              in all of her masturbations. She was in heaven, and building towards 
              a wonderful climax. 
            And then his hand was gone, and her pleasure evaporated, leaving 
              only a hollow, uncomfortable heat and horniness in its place. "Not 
              yet, Donna. But I was thinking, it's kind of mean, don't you think, 
              to pierce your nipples like that and not do you're clit? I think 
              you need a clit ring, what to do you think?" 
            "No, please, Alan," she started, but he wasn't listening. 
              He rushed around the room, pulled up a stool to her legs, and went 
              to work. After several moments of excruciating pain and delirious 
              pleasure as his thongs squeezed and manipulated her most sensitive 
              nub, her clit, too, bore the jewelry of her brother's brutality. 
              Without pause between work, Alan added another piercing to her naval, 
              clipping a long dangling chain in a hole through her belly button. 
            Her body throbbed with pain. He put the stool under her feet so 
              she could stand, letting the blood back into her arms. 
            "Next time, I'll hang you from the pipe by your tits," 
              Alan said abscently as he cleaned up his tools. "I think you 
              would look just so sexy hanging by your tits, don't you?" Donna 
              didn't answer, her head hung loosely on her shoulders, drooping 
              with exhaustion. 
            Alan was looking her over again. "I think you're cunt needs 
              to be bare, Donna. Dirty, filthy sluts like you have bare cunts. 
              Even I know that." Alan's girlfriend liked Alan to tie her 
              up shave her pussy, so he was quite experienced at it and had a 
              razor and shaving cream in his bag. He pulled them out and went 
              to work. 
            Compared to the previous adjustments to her body, this was a joy. 
              Donna was able to relax on her stool, feel the cool comfort of the 
              cream, and Alan was gentle and caring with his precision and handling 
              of the blade and her body. When he finally rinsed her off, exposing 
              the smooth flesh to the air, she was feeling more comfortable and 
              very turned on. He blew gently against her flesh and clit, and just 
              his breath alone sent tinges surging up through her, easing her 
              pain with pleasure. 
            "Very nice. Very sexy. Yes, I think you will have to keep 
              you pussy like that for me." Alan stood back and admired his 
              handiwork. His hand rubbed his throbbing cock through his jeans, 
              and Donna found that she could not take her eyes off the massive 
              bulge he was working over. In fact, she found herself wanting to 
              feel it in her hands, to suck it into her mouth. She wanted to get 
              down on her hands and knees and pleasure her brother. She shook 
              her head, as if doing so could toss the wicked thoughts from her 
              mind. She was disgusting herself with her lewdness, even as she 
              turned herself on. 
            "I don't know, Donna. You're still missing something. A tattoo! 
              That's what a slut like you needs. Of course, now that you're super-slutty, 
              every guy is going to want to shove his cock in you, and you would 
              just love that, wouldn't you." 
            "No, Alan," she moaned. "I won't fuck anyone else. 
              I swear." 
            "I don't trust you. You said there was nothing I could do 
              to stop you from fucking to your little cunt's desire, remember? 
              I think I know how I can stop you." Alan pulled a small modeling 
              knife from his duffle and stalked towards her. The blade was thin 
              and very sharp, it could easily slice her skin, and from the look 
              in his eyes, she did not doubt that that was exactly what was on 
              his mind. Donna tried to back up, but she only had the width of 
              the stool that she could move before she would fall back onto the 
              handcuffs, and she didn't want that. 
            Alan heated the blade up with a lighter, then wiped it down with 
              something wet - it smelled faintly of rubbing alcohol - she figured 
              he was sterilizing the blade. "I need to make you as mine, 
              Donna, so that no one else will use you. So you won't want anyone 
              else to use you." 
            He pulled up another stool and placed in front of her - sitting 
              down his face was even with her bald cunt, and he leaned forward, 
              the blade in hand. She felt the sharp pain of the knife cutting 
              her soft skin that had until minutes ago been covered with her pubic 
              hair. She shrieked and jerked back. 
            "Damn it, Donna! Don't make me hurt you more than I have to! 
              If you ruin my work, I swear to Christ, you'll find a lot more slashed 
              on you body than need be." He kicked the stool out from under 
              her and she dropped an inch or so and stopped with a jerk that forced 
              the cuffs to bite into her wrists. His knees closed aout her legs, 
              holding her steady as he returned to work. 
            Donna grit her teeth against the pain as her brother drew lines 
              in her skin with his knife. It felt like he was writing something, 
              but she couldn't feel what. He pulled back to look at his handiwork 
              and then grinned up at her. "Perfect!" He picked up a 
              wire brush from the table behind her and started to grind some something 
              thick and black against her skin, really forcing it into her wounds 
              with the sharp bristles. 
            He then wiped the mess away with a cloth. Most of it came off, 
              except where the ink had seeped into the knife wounds. The tattoo 
              ink was set permanently, a little warning to all who saw it, decaling 
              the area "My brother's fuck toy". 
            Alan stood back and grinned down at it, repeating the words for 
              Donna to hear. She couldn't read them the way she was hanging. Her 
              eyes were wide with horror. "But - but I -" 
            "Can never show anyone your cunt without them knowing it's 
              mine. Yes!" He grinned at her, and evil look indeed. "I 
              think we'll need to do the same to your ass to make sure you don't 
              do showing that off to anyone else." 
            Alan moved his stool around her and went to work again, slowly 
              and carefully cutting into the soft skin of Donna's right ass cheek. 
              Being right handed, Alan figered this was the ass he would smack 
              most, and thought he should make a target for himself. 
            Donna whimpered with pain as the knife edge made long sliced into 
              her flesh. It was a hot, stabbing pain, and she felt so helpless, 
              handcuffed to the pipe and held between her brother's legs. There 
              was nothing she could do to stop the ruination of her body. After 
              a few moments of cutting, Alan picked up the brush and ground the 
              tattoo ink into the cuts. 
            "My brother's cum hole," he proclaimed, biting her left 
              ass cheek hard since her was there. She grit her teeth to keep from 
              crying out. "Very nice. Now, a slut like you would probably 
              go around showing off her boobs to every boy who smiled at her. 
              We can't have that, can we?" 
            "No, Alan," Donna whined. She wasn't actually answering 
              his question, she was pleading with him. "Don't!" 
            Alan ignored her. He scooped up on small tit in his hand, squeezing 
              it hard in his fist to make the flesh taut, and started to carve 
              just above her nipple. "My brother's pin cushion," he 
              said after he cut it into her skin. He stepped back and admired 
              it. "You know, I don't think I'll tattoo this one." He 
              declared. Donna smiled, grateful to have a little bit of mercy. 
              "I think this should just be a scar - so much sexier that way, 
              to have it scarred into your tit, huh?" 
            Alan grinned as Donna cried out in protect. He squeezed her tit 
              again and went back to cutting, tracing his thin slices and cutting 
              much deeper this time. Donna was weeping opening, the pain just 
              too terrible for her to contain herself any long. With every slice, 
              the hot agony spread through her small breast. She could feel the 
              blood oozing out of the deeper wounds, coating her tit in hot fluid. 
              She was a mess, now, and she could do nothing to stop her horrid 
              brother from his grisly work. 
            Alan traced his letters four times, going through the whole phrase 
              fully and then going back again and again and again. He knew that 
              the wounds would take a while to heal and that Donna would be a 
              lot of pain over the next couple of weeks, but they would heal and 
              his words would forever mark her flesh, letting everyone know to 
              whom she belonged. She would not be a slut unless she was his slut! 
            At last he wiped the blood away and bandaged her tit, wrapping 
              the whole of the flesh in a gauze bandage and taping it soundly. 
              He would need to change the bandage a few times before they went 
              home, but he had the supplies at had to do so. 
             Donna's head was swaying - she felt woozy from the pain and exhaustion 
              and blood loss. Her world was spinning slighting and she felt a 
              little sick to her stomach. Alan didn't seem to care. He was staring 
              intently at her other breast, the unmarked canvass that needed his 
              attention. He couldn't just let that flesh go unmarred. She might 
              want to show off that one tit, and her tits were for no one's pleasure 
              but his. What should he do? 
             "I think, since we scarred this one," Alan said, "it 
              would be a shame to tattoo this one, but a shame, too, to do the 
              same thing again." He reached out and pinched her pierced nipple 
              between his fingers, causing her to yelp. He lifted her tit by it 
              and let it fall; it didn't bounce, there wasn't enough boob there 
              for that, but it did wobble nicely. "I know. I have it! But 
              what shall we write . . ." 
             He was deep in thought as he shuffled through his gear in his 
              duffle. Donna could see nothing of what he was doing, hell, she 
              could barely focus on what was in front of her now. Her entire body 
              just ached and throbbed with pain. Something smelled metallic, but 
              she couldn't place it. 
             He was flickering her nipple with his finger absently as he thought 
              to himself. Every flick sent a jab of pain shooting through her, 
              and he kept going, flicking as fast as his fingers could - it wasn't 
              hard, but it hurt. And his other hand reached between her legs and 
              settled against her sloppy cunt, contracting the stinging pain with 
              over-powering pleasure. He was squeezing continually, which was 
              not exactly what she wanted - she wanted him to rub her clit and 
              bring her to climax. But, somehow, the gentle squeeze against her 
              pussy mingled with the rapid flicking, and she felt the sharp pain 
              drawling her closer and closer to orgasm. 
             And then he stopped, once more leaving her desperate and horny. 
              The world was a little blurry and she had a hard time keeping her 
              eyes open. She was Donna was swaying gently on the pipe praying 
              for sleep. 
             And then a searing stab of pain woke her from her revelry. The 
              smell of burnt flesh accompanied the god-awful sting, the worst 
              pain she had felt yet. Alan was writing on the right tit now with 
              some thing that looked similar to a screw driver, but Donna had 
              never seen a soldering iron but she was now intimately familiar 
              with the burning pain it could cause. He was going very slowly, 
              making sure to burn her skin to craft a good scarring brand on her. 
             Donna couldn't help but struggle against the pain, and Alan was 
              forced to stop and smack her across the face when her thrashings 
              got bad. It continued this way the entire time - he would get one 
              letter draw in her skin and then he'd slap her cheek until she settled, 
              and he'd start back up again. It was actually a blessing for him 
              when she passed out half-way through the branding. 
             Alan woke her with some smelling salt from his bag when he was 
              done. She was groggy from it all, but he angled her face down towards 
              his masterpiece, proud of the work. "My brother's canvass" 
              the marking read in stylized, well calligraphied words. It looked 
              very artistic, and Alan was happy with it - it proclaimed exactly 
              what he thought of Donna's flesh - his canvass with which to work 
              his art. He had considered for a time to ply his artistic talent 
              for work, and now he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He was going 
              to become a tattoo artist and he had the perfect person to train 
              on. 
             "Now that you are marked as mine, I think I shall have a 
              go at that tight little cum hole of yours," Alan grinned as 
              he stepped behind his sister. He released his cock once more, took 
              her hips in his hands, and thrust himself into her ass. Her sphincter 
              offered very little resistance; it was small, obviously, but not 
              tightly clenched. Donna seemed completely relaxed. He doubt she 
              had much feeling anywhere at all, but after a few shard stroked 
              in her rectum, she started to moan and groan like the bitch slut 
              that she was. Every once in a while she would grunt in pain or murmur 
              a soft "no" but it lacked conviction, and Alan didn't 
              care one way or the other. 
             The rape did not last long, her young ass hole was too tight and 
              he was way to horny for that. It was an exhilarating release, though, 
              when he came. He cried out in pleasure as he fired his cum deep 
              into her rectum, telling her to take it like the slut she was. 
             Donna just murmured and sighed as he came. She was delirious from 
              the pain and ruination visited upon her flesh. Her mind and body 
              her numb to everything. She felt dirty and betrayed; and she all 
              she could think was that she was a horrible slut like her brother 
              said, and that he was right to treat her this way. She was a disgusting 
              whore cunt and she was getting exactly what she deserved. Her brother 
              had always known what was best for her; he always had protected 
              and loved her in the past. This must be what he was doing now. 
             Alan watched the droopy body on his sister hanging limpy from 
              the pipe. She couldn't even hold her head up anymore and her eyes 
              were barely open. She looted so hot, hanging there, pierced and 
              cut and tattooed and branded. He had done a number on her to be 
              sure! And it just made her look sexier. He wished he had brought 
              his digital camera and taken pictures of the whole thing. 
             "Oops!" he said, looking at his watch. "That was 
              a long ass movie, huh? We better get home." He released her 
              arms and she crumpled to the floor, sagging in a pile like a puppet 
              with its strings cut. He gathered up all his gear and replaced it 
              in his bag. He would need it again for when he brought his girlfriend 
              here, which would have to be soon - god, he was horny again! He 
              knew he would be insatiable for the next few days; it was always 
              like that after these sessions. Of course, now he had his sister 
              to relieve his lust; Alan would be bringing her back here, too. 
              Maybe he could bring them both - either he and his girlfriend could 
              torment his little sister, or her could torture them both! Either 
              way, he would cum so hard! 
             She scooped up his sister in his arms. She was not asleep, but 
              she was definitely not capable of walking back to the car. She was 
              mumbling to herself, weakly, as if in a dream. "No more, Alan. 
              I'll be good," she whispered. "I'll do whatever you want. 
              I swear." 
             "It's over for now," Alan whispered to her as he carried 
              her to the care. He gently set her in the passenger seat and then 
              climbed in himself and drove away. She was rocking gently back and 
              forth in her seat, still mumbling, which made Alan grin. Her cloths 
              had been cut to pieces, so she was still completely naked, which 
              made it even more fun. 
             At a red light, Alan once more pulled his hard-on from his pants 
              - his cock just would no stay soft - and he gently pulled her face 
              into his lap, feeding his cock into her mouth. She was still mumbling 
              something, even with his dick between her lips, but she also started 
              to suck it, absently. It seemed more like a natural reaction than 
              any conscious effort on Donna's part, but it still felt wonderful. 
              Alan petted her head and smoothed her hair. "Good girl," 
              he whispered. "Suck my cock." 
             While he drove, her reached over into her seat and began to rub 
              her pussy with his hand. She giggled and mumbled, the voice sounding 
              happy. She started to purr and moan and hump back against his hand, 
              and her mouth worked his cock with a little more effort. She was 
              sucking and bobbing her head now, as if aware that she was giving 
              a blow job. She was inexperienced, but it was still a delight. 
             When Alan finally pulled into the driveway, she was really into 
              it, sucking hard and bobbing her head hard on his rod, pumping with 
              one hand in time to her sucking. Her whole body was rocking against 
              his hand as he stroked her pierced clit, and her moaning was loud 
              and strong, her mind fully awake. 
             Alan stopped rubbing, though, when he parked the car, and Donna 
              groaned in protest. He actually had to lift her mouth off his cock. 
              "Sis, it's time to stop." 
             "No, please Alan. Please! I'll be good, I swear, just don't 
              stop. I'm so horny, I need to cum. Please Alan! Let me suck your 
              cock. Make me cum! Please!" 
             Alan laughed, but it was a softer sound, not the cruel taunting 
              laugh she had heard in the warehouse. "We are both going to 
              cum tonight, you little slut. I'm not done with you, not by a long 
              shot. But we need to go in so that Mom and Dad know we are home." 
             Donna nodded. Their mother kept a light on and would worry if 
              she woke up and saw that they had not turned in out. They went into 
              the house quietly, neither of them wanting their parent's to stir 
              and see Donna's naked body and read the words scribed on her flesh. 
             Alan pointed to his room and Donna nodded obediently and disappeared 
              inside. He went and shut of the hall light to ease his parent's 
              mind and then went to join his sister. She was lying on his bed, 
              completely exposed, playing with her clit ring with one finger, 
              her face flashing between pain and ecstasy. 
            Alan stood there, examining his work, slowly jerking his cock in 
              his hands as he admired his sister's body. His sister looked over 
              at him - her eyes did not hold love nor fear, just desire servitude. 
              "Fuck toy or cum hole?" she asked. 
            Alan grinned, pleased. It seemed she had learned her place. "Fuck 
              toy," he said as he stripped off his cloths. 
            Donna nodded and spread her legs to give him access to her cunt. 
              If there was any join in the act, it was because she had the hope 
              of finally easing her incredible horniness and the relief that she 
              was no longer being tortured. She was nothing but a toy to him, 
              warm flesh for him to use as he saw fit, to mar and hurt as his 
              whim took him. She would obey him because she was his thing, his 
              possession; the words on her body marked her as such, and she could 
              not erase them or the marks they left on her mind and soul. She 
              was obedient and obliging, a true slave to him. 
            He climbed on top of her and sunk his cock into her dripping snatch. 
              It hurt like hell with a freshly pierced clit, but it was exhilarating 
              at the same time. He fucked her as hard as he bared, his large body 
              pounding her small, skinny frame, shaking the fresh wounds and making 
              every nerve in her body explode with searing agony, but she could 
              not stop moaning with pleasure. Alan covered her face with a pillow 
              to muffle the sound of it. 
            This was their first fuck together in which Alan was not raping 
              her - he couldn't rape her anymore, after all. She had not power 
              to deny him, no ability to say no to his wants. There would be many 
              more time after that Alan would fill his toy with his seed, and 
              she would cum from his savage fucking, satisfied that she had pleased 
              him. He would continue to decorate her body as he pleased, cutting 
              her, painting her, scarring her for his sole pleasure. 
            That night, she truly became a canvas for him to practice his art. 
            
 
             
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