Tits for Tats Ch. 02

My father? He died just days after my eighteenth birthday. That should be tragic, but it's not. In fact, for many years it was both the best and worst day of my life.

My brother Kevin killed him. One hard blow with a baseball bat. I wish he hadn't died.

That was far too quick.

I wish I could have killed him myself. Over and over again, years of slow killing him wouldn't have been enough!

When I was just a child I woke up one night to go to the bathroom. When I was passing my parent's room I heard my Mommy whimper. The house was old, the doors had keyholes. They were just the right height for a child to look through. Even at that young age I was already familiar and frightened by Daddy's belt.

I just couldn't understand what Mommy could have done to deserve being whipped. She was crying bitterly into her pillow as he swung. Maybe it was because she didn't have any clothes on. I had been spanked for that before.

I think, looking back at that moment...

That Sick Fuck!

My teen years were a horror of pain from whippings and disgust when I saw the lust in his eyes when he did it.

I tried to tell Mom what was happening. What I saw on his face when he whipped me. She slapped me three times in the mouth. Called me a liar.

Daddy whipped me that night harder than he ever had before. For lying about him. My back was bloody when he was done. He was sweating when he was done. His eyes glowed with lust.

GOD! DAMN! HIM!

No one would believe me! He was looked up to. Church going man of the cloth. A wonderful husband and a true inspiration as a father. Look at how well-mannered and disciplined his children are. A true 'pillar of the community' and proud example of a true Christian American.

Damn him...

Damn him.

And damn all of them!

My best friend in the world, other than my little brother, was a girl I went to school with named Alexandra or Alex, as she liked to be called. She was the only one who would believe me. She would hold me while I cried myself out on many a day.

Now Alex had an older brother named Todd who was going to bartending school at night. The movie 'Cocktail' inspired him. Alex too. She stole his old books. She wanted to learn at the school herself, but she was too young for the classes.

It was one night while she mixed drinks, with liquor she stole from her parents, that she and I came up with our "plan."

Even though it was concocted under the slight buzz we had it was a good plan. I would save all my babysitting, birthday, and Christmas money to get a car. She would save hers for the gas and the security deposit on the apartment. We would run away as soon as we turned eighteen, that way the state couldn't send us back.

And it was working. Everything was in place, all the ducks were in a row. It took us a couple of day's work just after my eighteenth birthday, but we had the apartment lined up. Jobs, not great ones, but jobs. We would work and earn enough money that by the time we were twenty-one we could go to bartending school.

I came back home to get the last of my things and to tell Kevin where I was going.

Father was waiting.

He beat me, slapped me to the bed. He clawed my pants down and started to whip me harder than ever before in my life! When I tried to get away from him he caught me by my hair.

I was screaming, crying, and begging him to stop as blow after blow rained down upon my back, ass, and thighs.

And then he did stop.

Forever.

Kevin held me as I cried. And although I was in horrible pain they were tears of joy!

Then the police came. My best day became my worst.

I had to watch as my brother disappear into the prison system. I thanked him. It was all I could do.

Mom blamed me. She went to raise her hand to me after they took Kevin away. With a house full of police, my father being zipped into a black bag she thought she would try to slap me! I caught her hand. I looked her in the eyes and told her if she even thought about trying to hit me she would be joining her husband in hell.

I shoved her out of my way. I shouldered aside the side the two M. E.s trying to get down the stairs with the gurney. I got my things from my room and I left. And I never looked back.

They gave Kevin twenty years! Twenty years! Oh my dear god no.

Even before the trial began the press started to follow me around. I had a camera on me everywhere I went. If I paused for even a second I would have a mic under my nose.

Does your brother do drugs?

Was he high at the time of the murder?

Is it true your father discovered you and your brother together in bed?

"FUCK OFF!"

Can we quote you on that?

Alexandra was the only thing that kept me together and sane. Somewhat. We left for our apartment in the middle of the night. She changed the way I looked. Cutting my hair, dyed it blond. After the sentencing, she got me back together somehow. In the months to come, as the wounds to body and soul began to heal, she showed me a part of myself I never knew I had.

She was my first lover.

Alex and I were together for three years. By then we were starting to become different people. I was a blonde with no intentions of going back home and her interest in bartending had faded. Mine had grown. We finally parted friends as I left for what she called alcoholics school.

After her, I had a few relationships, always women.

Then Sam came into my life. He had been a 'she' so I guess I was still in some ways avoiding men. We weren't together long, but I learned one very important thing.

All pain hurts, but not all pain has to be bad.

It started with a hard smack to my ass. The first time he did it was not a pretty scene.

But ... by the time we parted ways, I was being spanked with clamps on my nipples.

Sam and Alex. They kept me sane.

After Sam, I took a job in the same town where Kevin's prison is. I wanted to be closer to him but didn't have the courage to go see him. The guilt that he was only in there because of me was still very strong.

The years passed. I tended bar, dated the occasional dancer. Existed.

Several times I even went to the prison, but I would always lose my nerve before I asked to see him. They seemed to understand. They took my number and said they would call me if he ever made parole.

Parole? I hadn't even thought of that! All I had heard was twenty years.

I found hope again.

The years seemed to pass slowly now.

Then I got the call. They had almost forgotten to call me. Kevin was already in out-processing when I heard he was being released! I grabbed clothes and drove like mad to the prison. He was coming out the door as I rounded the corner.

If I had looked beyond his face I wouldn't have known him.

His picture on TV, him in an orange jumpsuit hands chained at his side, looking like a scrawny kid, had been my last image of him. I had no pictures of us as kids so that had burned itself into my brain. Him in a bulletproof vest because of the death threats. Father killer, brutal murderer, Satan worshiper, they had found an Ozzy Osbourne cassette in his school locker. Now? He looks like he had been carved out of wood. Chiseled from mahogany tree roots maybe. As I held him at arm's length my fear of men was there in force.

But he was so lost, almost childlike.

A protectiveness I've never known I had surfaced then. I didn't want him out of my sight.

I took him to his job. My first sight of his friend 'Ink' was terrifying. Only his sense of humor kept me at ease.

Then we were at a free clinic filling out forms for him to leave a blood sample. Why? I have no idea.

Bored, I looked over his shoulder as he wrote. I reached past him and tapped the paper.

"You misspelled that."

He looked up then back down to where my finger was pointing.

"Threw?"

"Yeah. They way you're using it. 9th through 11th grade it's spelled T-H-R-O-U-G-H."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know that. Just my mind was elsewhere for a second. See anything else?"

"Nope, looks good," I told him, smiling.

We went shopping for clothes then. I watched him trying on a few nice looking things. I could see the women in the store watching him with a hungry look. I don't like it. Why I don't know, I've already said we needed to get him laid.

When we get home to my place, he looked like my apartment was made of sugar glass and he was afraid to touch anything for fear it might break.

I found Kevin in the bathroom in the morning. He cried himself sick like a child. I was so worried about him all day. I didn't want to leave my brother.

I've spent so much time not being there for him. The guilt was real.

When I finally poured my last shot for the night, I rushed to the tattoo shop.

I saw him through the window. My brother was wearing a tank top and those gorgeous tattoos were visible. I found myself, at times, just watching him move. Doing the simple things, like this morning watching him shaving, brushing his teeth, folding his clothes.

I came to realize while watching him, that I was seeing part of his everyday routine 'inside'. He was trapped into habits he didn't even know he had.

That night his hand was covered in blisters. I went to my room after we ate and grabbed a jar of cream from by the bed. It numbs pain. I've used it as aftercare for when I've been spanked to help me sit down the next day.

When I walked back out of my room I took his hand in mine and began to massage in the cream. His fingers were strong; the tendons tight. Under my touch, and with the lotions help, I soon got his hand to relax.

Lost in the moment, I moved up onto his arm. Softly running my fingers across the intricate webs and tiny spiders. They were so very lifelike they almost seemed to move under my fingers. As if they were trying to get out the way. It was beautiful and creepy as hell all at the same time.

His biceps muscle was at first tense and hard to make move. The dark tribal tattooing was less eerie than the other parts of his arm but it felt oddly raised up off his skin. I feel my fingers ride over ridges of ink.

As I started to work on his shoulder I noticed my breast was only inches from his face. His eyes were closed, but the deep pleasure moans coming from him were starting to have an effect. Looking down at his face, my eyes went to my nipples poking hard up through two thin layers of cloth. My bra was old and didn't conceal hard flesh. The tank top shirt was, if anything, even thinner.

I stood up and walked around behind the couch. Using both hands, I dug my fingers into his muscular shoulders. The mixture of Celtic and tribal tattooing moved under my hands, making beautiful patterns on his skin.

He gave a low throaty growl as I pushed my thumbs into either side of the tight muscles by his neck. I remembered then how Alex used to love when I did this to her. Sam had enjoyed it as well.

I don't know if it's those memories of my past lovers or the masculine moans from Kevin, but when I shift a little I noticed a slick wet feeling between my lower lips.

Trying to ignore that, I pushed my thumbs into either side of his spine near the base of his neck. A long low growling moan made his muscles vibrate under my hands. My breathing quickened.

My god it was him!

I gasped in surprise but turned it into a yawning sound as I felt a near flood of moisture start to leak out of me.

I walked away and into the kitchen. My fingers were almost too numb to turn on the sink. It took quite a bit of time to scrub the lotion off my hands.

My brother?

I stopped washing my hands when I realized I was not trying to get lotion off my hands but the contact with him. I turned off the scalding water with hands that would be burning if they weren't numb.

I turned and looked back at him. His eyes were on me, as I dried my puffy fingers.

The idea that I have gotten wet enough for sex from the sounds of Kevin's moaning sat on me like an elephant. Had I gotten turned on by my kid brother?

"Go ... goodnight, sleep tight," I told him. I could hear my voice tremble. I hardly heard his response as I walked past him. I could feel his eyes following me. The eyes of a man on me had always been the cause of fear or disgust, but this time it was more....

At that moment I couldn't believe what I was feeling. The desire to have a man inside me was the strongest it's ever been in my life. That's it was Kevin I want was ... too disturbing.

I turned at the door to my room. My large soft bed was only feet away. I looked at his wonderfully sculpted body in the dim light of the living room.

Kevin, I want to fuck.

I could hear the words trying to form even as I shook my head.

But then I smiled at his puzzled look.

"Night, night Kevin," I told him softly.

"Good night Sara. Sweet dreams," He answered.

I closed the door with hands that trembled.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Kevin was so busy he didn't even seem to notice that I was avoiding being near him for the rest of the week. He ate, showered, and all but passed out on the couch night after night. I could see him rubbing his back a few times and the desire to help was terribly strong. But I also knew where that desire was coming from, so I kept my hands to myself. For the next few nights.

I couldn't get my thoughts to straighten out in my own head. Too much had happened too quickly, and they were things that I wasn't expecting.

That night, as I crushed mint leaves for my last pitcher of Mojito, I felt eyes on me. Looking up, I saw Madison up on the stage. She blew me a kiss and then shook her bare breasts at me while grinning.

She and I have had more than a few wild nights together. She licked her lips and winked at me offering another such.

I gave a smile back, but it was halfhearted at best. A quick look of surprise crossed her face, and then she had back to her stripper smile. I watched the men stuffing her G-string with bills. Some of them had that look on their faces. As if they believed giving her enough she might sleep with them. Ha! Madison wouldn't touch a cock that doesn't have batteries.

I counted up my register and then turned it over to Paul. He was the third shift bartender who would be mixing drinks till the club closes. When that is ... well, it varies.

Grabbing my tips, I walked into the back to get my raincoat and purse.

Madison was waiting.

"What's the matter Hun?" she asked me concerned.

I shrugged.

She gave me an exasperated look but then a hug.

"Sara you can tell me anything, you know that. Good Christ girl, I know you have freckles on your coochy! What do you think I can't handle knowing?"

I looked her in the eyes and decided.

"I'm ... I'm kind of falling for Kevin." I told her softly.

Her eyebrows raised so fast her tits bounced!

"Kevin? Your brother Kevin?" she asked.

I nodded.

She took a deep breath then whistled softly.

"Well, that's a new one. Okay ... well, what are you going to do about it?" She looked around to see if anyone was close by.

"I don't know. That's the problem." I half sat on a table and clutched my purse to my chest. "I don't know what to do."

Madison sighed.

"Sara, you kind of caught me off guard with this one. I don't really know what to tell you." She reached over and moved a lock of my blonde hair out my face. "Normally I wouldn't advise any woman to get any closer to a man that his credit card. You do know their penises shoot battery acid out when they cum?"

I chuckled.

She leaned her head in against mine.

"Follow your heart, not your head. That's the best advice I can give till I've had time to think about this some." She gave me a shrug and a quirky smile.

I hugged Madison and thanked her. I watched her rush to the back to get changed for her next dance set.

My stomach felt full of butterflies as I drove to the tattoo shop.

The bright red, old-fashioned, neon sign "Hot Needle Hell" was dark and the sign on the glass door was turned to 'closed'. The shop lights, however, were still on.

Walking up to the door, I lifted my hand to knock but then paused.

Mesmerized, I watched my brother as he moved around inside the shop. I felt like a voyeur since he never once looked my way.

His body seemed to glide with a rugged grace. I had by then noticed that was how he always moves. Like a stalking wolf, every step placed firm before the next is taken. His muscles rippled under his shirt and pants. My eyes drifted to his jeans pockets as he bent down to pick a rubber band up from the floor.

My god what an ass!

My breath quickened, as I felt an overpowering flood of desire wash through me.

Shivering, I tapped on the glass.

He looked up at me quickly. The wolf analogy still applied. Seeing me he relaxed a bit and smiled.

My heart melted at that smile.

He came over and unlocked the door.

"Won't be long," He told me. "Just got to finish cleaning up. I've got a few things to stick in the autoclave then I'm done."

I nodded.

Autoclave? No clue.

"Take your time. So long as I can sit down my tired feet I'm in no rush." I dropped onto the couch hard enough that it felt like a hand on my ass. I had to hide the shiver of lust that ran through me, so I leaned forwards and grabbed up one of the books from the table.

Kevin went back to whatever it was he was doing. I pretend to be looking through the book. I was really watching him reflected in the front windows.

Finally, with a shake of my head, I looked down at the book.

"Ouch."

Oh my god. The picture before me was a woman with large breasts. She had zippers tattooed around her nipples. Enraptured, I didn't hear Kevin when he walked over by me.

"Yeah, that wouldn't be a fun spot to get a tat," he told me after a glance.

A tattooer would have to be holding the woman's breast to do a tattoo like that. That thought came to mind as I looked up at him and grinned.

"Be fun for you, though," I teased him.

He shrugged, grinned a little, and went back to work.

Intrigued now, I flipped back to the front of the book and really paid attention to the pages. Photo, after photo, of gorgeous, beautifully done tattoos. I had seen ink on the bodies of the strippers at the club for years. Some of it up close. And none of those had been anywhere near this good.

Then I turned the page and I saw it.

Oh, my god. It was beautiful!

I couldn't see the girl's face, but I felt an instant surge of a far more familiar to me lesbian-driven lust. Her body was nothing special, but with that tattoo running across her I felt an instant desire for her. To have her. To possess her

No ... I wanted to be her! Inked like her.

I slipped the picture from out the protective sleeve and held it up to the light. Then, when I looked up from the photo, it was to discover that Kevin was nowhere to be seen. I could hear him moving around in the back.

"Hey, I want this," I said, loudly.

He stuck his head around the corner and I held up the photo. He walked over and looked at it for a few seconds, and then he grimaced.

"You have no idea how badly that would hurt," he told me as he ran a finger over the photo.

I listened to his dire warnings of pain and torture but shrugged them off. This picture was by far the sexiest thing I had ever seen in my life.

I took back the photo, looked at it even closer and I wished it was bigger. I only half heard him but then something of what he was saying registered.

Ink, do it? Ink's hands on me! Touching me! Maybe even touching my bare breast!

I shivered in fear at the very idea.

"Could you do it?" I asked without even thinking.

He seemed to freeze in place. Ever so slowly he turned to face me. I saw his eyes leave my face, traveling down my body. Now I have had guys checking me out my whole life, but for once I got a thrill at knowing a man was looking at me. I had to hide a shiver when I knew his eyes were on my cloth-covered crotch.