She said her name was Kaylee, and she was pretty, rebellious, and freshly-turned-18. She came into Ian’s tattoo parlour in a storm of bratty teenage energy and said she wanted to get a tattoo that would shock her father, and she wasn’t picky about what it was.

It was a request that Ian couldn’t resist. So he invited her in and asked her a few questions. He learned she’d just that very day been kicked out of home by her parents for smoking weed. He learned that in a fit of pique she’d declared she was running away to a completely different city – although she’d barely come a couple of suburbs to reach Ian’s business. And he learned that her parents had no idea where she was right now, and neither did any of her friends.

That was enough. He slapped a gag over her mouth and dragged her down into the basement beneath his tattoo parlour.

He kept her there for a month, naked, helpless. He raped her, in all of her holes. He let some of his friends rape her – always masked, anonymous. He beat her tits and her cunt. He pissed on her, and into her mouth, and made her wet herself in front of him. He taught her to beg for rape, and to make it sound convincing. He made her recite her most degrading sexual fantasies – both her real ones, and ones that he told her to pretend she was into. She talked about wanting to fuck animals, fuck her friends, fuck her own family, and he had her practice until she sounded both desperate and honest. He made her masturbate as she spoke, and eventually with a combination of conditioning and drugs he was able to make her cum from pain and degradation.

He recorded all of it on film. He uploaded the film to a website called “”.

And then he gave her a tattoo.

It was a QR code, just above her pussy. Anyone who ever saw her nude – and certainly anyone who fucked her – would see it. He used special techniques that would make it resistant to removal. It would stay with her her entire life – and anyone who scanned it would be taken straight to “The Real Kaylee” – and invited to upload photos, images, or text descriptions of any sexual activity they had undertaken with her, or any other demeaning or humiliating information about her, for her next sexual partner to enjoy.

Any lover she ever took would be able to access the footage of her rape, and masturbate to it. Any person she was ever intimate with would be able to watch her rubbing her pussy to disgusting fantasies, and see her drinking piss and cumming from pain. 

And they would, in theory, be able to make her do anything they wanted, because she would be desperate to convince them not to share her website, or images of her tattoo. They could get her to perform even more degrading acts, and then upload those, too, to her site.

She freaked out when she saw the tattoo, and the site that it led to, and begged him to remove it. She offered to suck his cock, to let him impregnate her, even to marry him, if only he would remove the tattoo.

“Sorry, Kaylee,” he told her. “You’ve got that tattoo for life.”

And her desperation told him that she would behave exactly as he wanted her to. But still, he had one last test for her.

“I’m going to let you go tomorrow, Kaylee,” he told her. “But first I want you to do something. Just a little something. I want you to send a photo of your cunt – and your tattoo – to your father, with a flirty message that suggests you enjoy him seeing it.”

Her eyes were wide with horror.

“After all,” said Ian. “That was what you asked for, wasn’t it? A tattoo that would shock your father – and you weren’t picky about what it was?” He smiled sweetly. “If you don’t want to send it to your father, that’s fine – I’ll just pick fifteen contacts from your phone and send it to them instead.”

She had to think about it – but she didn’t think about it for long. Her father, at least, would keep her secret, wouldn’t he? 

“Hi daddy,” she said, after using the phone to take a photo of her spread pussy, “Missing you! I was thinking of you when I got this tattoo…”


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