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Barbie had an instant to see the blazing hot irons that Gary, Pat and Dave held in their hands before she flipped over and stuck her ass up high. Barbie plowed her face into the muck and screamed as Gary and Pat's irons seared their way in to her ass checks. She could smell the burning of her own flesh and hear the sizzling as the brand burned into her flesh. The pain was awful, but the nerve-wracking orgasm hit her with nearly an equal amount of pleasure.

On one ass cheek were the words, "Fuck me hard" and on the other cheek were the words, "Beat me hard".

"On your back, Barbie-slut!" roared Dave.

Barbie flopped on to her back. The cool piss muck felt soothing to her branded ass. Her relief didn't last long. She went through another powerful orgasm, as Dave pressed his iron across Barbie's hairless pussy mound. It seared the words, "I am a slut" into it.

"In your box," Dave said when he was finished branding her.

Barbie struggled to her feet and climb into a four-foot by four-foot steel box at the back of the van.

Once inside it Dave barked out proudly, "Congratulations General on a very successful campaign."

"Thank you Dave. Like any good commander," Gary said, "I'm only as good, as the men in my command. In this case the men in and slut under my command."

"You look good slut, just the way you ought to," giggled Pat as he secured the lid to the small box, trapping Barbie inside it. It was the same box that she was brought to Eastport's parking lot in. Only this time she was covered with smelly piss, stinky shit, gooey jism and slimy pussy cream muck, instead of being dressed in sexy clothes. As she lay in the dark box, picturing the reaction her parents would have when they saw the video tape of her begging for her school football team to rape and torture her, Barbie began to sob bitterly.

As the step van bounced along, Barbie ran her finger across her skin tracing the brands.

Now there was no turning back for her. For as long as she lived, she would be a sex toy for the men around her, a pretty, mindless animal to be fucked and hurt and ridiculed.

To the daze, beautiful sex slave, the three brands were a natural extension to her status. Now she wouldn't need to remember what she was, what she liked or what she was to be used for. All any man would need to know about her, could be read off her body.

Barbie wept in the pitch-dark confines of her transport box as the van headed back to Rener's Military Academy.