The Flaying
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Summary
To save the fake daughter's scar, my brother forced me to switch skin with her.
He tied me to the operating table with his own hands, ordering them to flay me alive. To ensure the skin graft was successful, they didn't even give me anesthetic, letting me constantly fade in and out of consciousness from the unbearable pain.
When the surgery finally ended, the operating room floor was saturated with my blood, leaving only a blood-soaked, barely breathing version of me, stripped of most of my skin.
