"Please, Linc?"

Lincoln sat with his elbow propped on the arm of the couch and the side of his face resting in his upturned palm. Lana was next to him, on her hands and knees and staring at him with big, pleading eyes like a puppy begging for a treat.

He ignored her.

On TV, a rapper danced around like a dumbass while topless women gyrated on either side of him. Their breasts were pixelated, though.

"Please, Linc" Lana repeated and crawled closer, her bottom lip sticking out and her eyes shimmering. He spared her a disinterested glance, then looked pointedly away. She'd been pestering since yesterday, and, God help him, he was close to caving - a man can only take so much before his snaps. Please? Please? Please? Huh, huh, huh? Please? PLEEEEEEEEEEASEEEEEEE? If it kept up much longer, he'd wind up hugging himself in a padded room.

Then again, what she wanted...shiver.

He couldn't, okay? He just couldn't - it was gross on so many levels, and...honestly, he was still blown away that she asked him that. He knew she was nasty, but that was beyond the pale.

She got closer and rubbed her cheek against his arm like a persistent cat.

"Lana," he said as evenly as he could, "I'm gonna tell Mom and Dad if you keep it up. No."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she hung her head.

Then she started to cry.

Nope. He would not be persuaded by tears.

Shaking his head, he got up, climbed the stairs, and went to his room, shutting and locking the door behind him. He flopped onto his bed with a weary sigh and stared up at the ceiling. His mind went back to what Lana wanted, and a shiver dropped down his spine like a chunk of black ice. He was right here, playing his DS yesterday afternoon, when she knocked on the door. Actually knocked. That alone told him something was off - no one ever knocks in his house, they just barge right in like Kramer into Jerry's apartment. When he called out, she entered with a sheepish smile, her nervousness evident in her posture and her tentative steps. She climbed up onto the bed and asked him how his day was. Odd, but okay. They started to talk, then - bam - she asked him something that almost literally blew him away, her words hitting him like buckshot to the chest.

"Ew, no!" he cried in horror. He couldn't see his own face, but he imagined it was twisted and green.

She got to her knees, rocked back, and balled her hands in front of her as though she were a God-fearing woman and he Christ in all His Majesty. "Pleeeeease, Linc? I know it's weird, but I can't stop thinking about it. You're the only boy I know and I couldn't ask anyone else even so. Please?"

"No! You're disgusting! Get out of my room!"

She begged harder, and he simply jabbed his finger toward the door. "Go away. Seriously."

Bowing her head, she slipped off the bed and dragged herself away, shoulders slumped. She stopped and cast a hopeful glance over her shoulder, her face crashing down like a dark, apocalyptic sky when he shook his finger for emphasis. "Go."

She sighed and disappeared, leaving Lincoln next-to-traumatized. H-How could she ask that? Why would she ask that? She was only six! When he was calm, he could kind of see her logic, as flawed as it may be, but...ugh! Didn't she realize how freaking messed up that was?

He tried for to put it out of his mind, but it kept coming back like a nasty infection. At dinner, he couldn't even bring himself to look at her - all he could see when he did was a vision of what she wanted, and it disturbed him so much he had to leave the table.

Later, the pestering started. He came out of his room to use the toilet, and she was there, hands clutched in front of her. "Please, Linc?"

"No!"

When he was in the shower, she came into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet lid. "Please, Linc? I know it's nasty, but -"

"Lana, leave me alone!"

On and on and on like a perverted merry-go-round.

Presently, he reached for the comic on the nightstand, resolved to lose himself in a world where little sisters never asked their brothers to -

"Please, Linc."

Lincoln's eyelid twitched. He looked up, and Lana's face was pressed against the grate over his bed..she was.in the air duct and staring down at him with those puppy dog eyes. Lincoln started to snap, but stopped himself. "No," he said, low but firm.

"Please?"

"No, Lana."

She hooked her fingers through the slats and held on. "Please?"

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

She flinched, then sighed and crawled away with a series of metallic thumps.

Alone, he sighed.

This was getting ridiculous.

He'd just have to take it; it couldn't get much worse, right?

Cue montage.

Lincoln opened the fridge and jumped back with a scream when Lana's head popped out. "Please, Linc?"

Flashing, he slammed the door, then winced when he realized what he'd done. "I'm okay," Lana called, her voice dazed and muffled. Lincoln blew a frustrated puff of air and walked away.

Next scene.

Lincoln dropped onto the sofa next to Leni, who was busy knitting a fashionable pink scarf and humming to herself. He snatched the remote off the coffee table, aimed it at the TV, and hit the POWER button.

Lana's face filled the screen. She balled her hands and held them up. "Please, Linc?"

Growling, Lincoln stabbed the button again, and the picture went dark. Now she was recording videos. What's next, a -

Luna appeared in front him as if by magic, and he cried out, his arms going up. "Hey, dude," she said, then furrowed one eyebrow in confusion. "Lana wanted me to sing you a song. I dunno why. I think she wants something."

Coughing, she whipped out her guitar and ripped a melodic chord. Lincoln's face settled into a scowl when she began to sing.

"Linc, please

I need you to help me out

Please, Lincoln

And do what we talked about."

Lincoln held up his hand. "I'm just gonna stop you right there. The answer is no."

"Aw, man."

He turned; Lana knelt on one of the stair treads, her hands wrapped around two spindles and her face wedged into the gap between them. Lincoln tensed, but took a deep, calming breath instead of yelling.

Lana tried to pull back, but couldn't.

"Uh...I'm stuck."

Scene three.

Lincoln tipped toed out of his bedroom, his gaze jerking left and right; his hair was a mess and dark bags hung under his eyes. One lid quivered and he jumped when the AC kicked on with a rattle. Crazy, he was going crazy; she could be anywhere, hiding in a crack, or a vase, nestled between the floorboards, watching, waiting to pounce. He had to be careful.

He made it to the bathroom unmolested, and closed the door with a sigh of relief, then leaned his back against it. Whew. When you have one sister who really wants something from you - regardless of what it is - getting through your day is like navigating a minefield. One wrong move and KABLEWY! He tittered madly to himself and crossed to the toilet. He lifted the lid, and Lana's face jumped out at him, her soaking hair plastered to her face. He wailed and stumbled back, his feet tangling and spilling him to the floor.

"Please, Linc?"

"NOOOOOO!"

Scene the fourth

Lincoln sat in the middle of his bed in a red football helmet, shoulder pads, and a vest made of tin foil. His window was boarded over and his dresser sat in front of the door, a schizophrenic jumble of junk on top of it. The vent grate was blocked too. There was no way she could -

Lana crawled out from under the bed and got to her feet. "Please, Linc?"

The room spun and insane laughter bubbled up in Lincoln's throat. He held it down and closed his eyes; ripping off the helmet, he threw it aside and jammed his index fingers into his ears.

At least I'm safe inside my mind.

Lana's voice. Please, Linc?

Lincoln snapped then, his resolve breaking in half like the Titanic. "Fine!" he screamed. "I'll do it."

Happy light filled Lana's eyes and she beamed bright as the sun. "Eeeee, thanks, Lincoln!"

Before he had a chance to reply, she undid the straps of her overalls and let them drop to the floor. She stepped out, jammed her thumbs into the waistband of her white panties, and brushed them down her legs. Lincoln looked away and puckered his lips in disgust - God, I can't believe I'm doing this.

She crawled onto the bed on her hands and knees and swung around, her butt inches from his face, her cheeks spread and her soft, glistening pink center laid bare. Her sharp, musky scent pinched his nostrils and his nose crinkled. Gag. She arched her back and wiggled her hips, then looked over her shoulder. "Ready."

Lincoln swallowed hard and forced himself to look at...her; he'd never seen a girl's privates before, and he couldn't help a rush of horrified curiosity. That's a pussy? Ugh, looks like a Predator. His eyes went to her wrinkled, puckered little butthole, and he shuddered.

Turning his head, he extended his index finger and prodded her anus - it was weird and kind of springy. Lana let out a low, throaty hum.

He did not want to do this...but the quicker it was over, the quicker he could go back to not having her up his ass.

No pun intended.

Closing his eyes, he pressed, and his finger sank into her rectum, her muscles clenching and her walls forming tight around him. Ew, ew, ew, ew. God, my finger's in my sister's butt - Jesus, why?

Lana grunted and gripped the blanket in her hands, her head hanging and her blonde bangs falling in her face. Lincoln bit his lower lip against a rush of bile, and her body slipped around his knuckle. "Like that," she panted. She reached between her legs, pressed her middle finger to her clit, and started rubbing in slow, wide circles. The smell of her arousal intensified, and Lincoln's stomach turned. He pulled back and rammed his finger forward; Lana gasped and rubbed faster, her body rocking back against him. "Faster," she breathed.

Laying a steadying hand on her butt cheek (and grimacing), Lincoln increased his speed, his finger flying back and forth, her walls gripping it tightly as if to keep it from pulling out. Lana's arm swirled in a blinding clockwise motion, producing a disgusting and meaty thwack thwack thwack sound. Lincoln shuddered in revulsion but went gamely on, his nails digging into her soft flesh and his teeth gritting. Come on, come on, hurry up.

Anger at what she was making him do, at her being so selfish and repulsive, detonated in his chest like a bomb, and he jammed his finger as deep into her as he could, hoping his nail ripped her - she jumped forward with a sharp yelp and clutched the blanket tighter. "D-Damn, Linc." It sounded like she enjoyed it.

Sigh.

She slammed herself back into his working digit, her eyes squeezed closed, cheeks red, teeth clamping her bottom lip. "I-I'm gonna...I'm gonna…"

Her muscles contracted and spasms wracked her body; a trembling groan fell from her lips and she thrusted roughly forward, grinding her pussy against her hand.

Lincoln figured that meant she was done, so he ripped his finger out of her ass and instinctively blotted it on his pants, not daring to look at it, imagining it coated in shit and god knows what else. Lana pulled her hand from between her legs, grabbed the blanket, and slid her hips slowly forward, then back, riding her orgasm with a look of bliss upon her face. Lincoln watched with contempt, and when she opened her muddled eyes and looked back at him, he sneered. "There. Happy?"

She nodded and propped herself on one elbow. Raking her fingers through her tangled hair, she grinned slyly. "That was awesome."

"Good, I'm glad you had fun," Lincoln said sarcastically.

She missed it entirely. "Thanks, Linc, you're the best." Her grin widened and her eyes lidded. "Maybe next time you can use your tongue."

Lincoln's face dropped.