#ouchhhh

Brian is not used to women wanting him, absolutely not in that devoted way. And so when it happens, it disgusts him because he knows he doesn't deserve it. So when she tries to kiss him while she’s riding him, he slaps her. Hard. Holds her head away like she’s diseased. Because that’s not what this is, he won’t let her pretend. There’s no affection here. Not when she just got done taking another man’s dick. Not when Toby’s still watching.

But of course he notices everything. He sees the way she looked when they walked in, all dolled up, eyes shining, like she wanted something more from them. Like tonight might be different. Like maybe if she’s soft enough, obedient enough, pretty enough, she might actually reach them. Connect.

And he hates that. Because it's stupid and it's delusional. It’s the kind of fragile, naive hope that doesn’t belong in a place like this. A girl like her shouldn’t be looking at men like them with eyes full of possibility. But it’s also a little… hot. The way she still believes there’s something human underneath it all. Like she’s trying to uncover something buried. Like she thinks there’s still a person left to reach.

And then she has the audacity to ask them to remove their masks, and then their shirts. Like if she saw their faces, their skin, they’d somehow become real to her. Less monster and more man. But it only confirms what Brian already suspects: She wants intimacy in the middle of this. She wants a connection in the wreckage.

Brian doesn’t love. But he does feel. And underneath all the emotional ice, there’s a flicker of something when he sees her crawl toward him on all fours, because she’s ruined. Because despite everything, she chooses him. And that kind of blind desperation, that craving for approval from someone so cold and cruel, it awakes something in him.

He thinks: She's sick. She's pathetic. She's exactly like me.

And that makes him want to destroy her even more.

So he does. He fucks her like she’s a thing. Spits on her. Holds her down on the table and treats her like the object she’s allowed herself to become. With the exact kind of mechanical cruelty that Brian is known for. He wants her to feel like nothing. Because if she means nothing to herself, she definitely means nothing to him.

But then, the gun.

When she brings it up, his gun, the one they used on her, the one Tim had pressed inside her while she begged for more - it stops him cold.

Because that gun is something Brian loves. It’s part of who he is. And the fact that she remembers it, fixates on it, wants it again? That tells him she’s not just addicted to the act, she’s addicted to him.

And that breaks the spell, just for a second.

So... he kisses her.

It’s pure instinct. Animal-brained and heat-drunk and high on power. And the second he does it? He wants to take it back. He hates himself for it. Because now it’s real, now it’s close. And she was just with Tim and Toby. And now she’s under him, soft and warm and willing, and it’s just all too much.

He wants to shoot her.

He actually considers it. Not just out of rage, but to restore the balance. To undo whatever emotional glitch just occurred. But he doesn’t. Instead, he tells her to go to Tim. Like nothing happened.

And as he watches Tim use her on the couch, Toby jerking off next to them like some background freakshow, Brian just... stares.

That post-nut clarity hits him like a brick wall.

He thinks: What the fuck are we doing? What is she? What the fuck am I?

He feels everything at once: disgust, confusion, possessiveness, resentment, and a hollow little ache that feels too much like want.

He doesn’t know whether he wants to keep her in a cage… or burn her alive just to feel nothing again.

And this is why Brian is a very dangerous man - someone you do not want to let you guard down around. Because the closer you get, the more likely he is to destroy you, simply because you made him feel something.