Brothers

June 2012. It had been a full month since Gaby handed me Jessica’s diary.

I had taken the white notebook, shoved it into the darkest corner of my closet, and buried it under a pile of heavy winter coats. I hadn't read a single word of it. I wasn't ready to face the truth, and I was desperately trying to convince myself that I could build a real life with Gaby instead.

"Baby! What do you think?" Gaby beamed, pulling me into the kitchen.

I looked around. The counters were completely bare. The space was pristine, spotless, and deeply sanitized.

"Where are the utensils, babe?" I asked, a slight frown tugging at my lips.

Her smile widened, vibrating with nervous, eager energy. She opened one of the large overhead cabinets. "Ta-da!!"

My eyes widened. "Wow." I was genuinely impressed. Every spatula, whisk, and spoon was meticulously organized by size and color. " I love how you arranged it. You really made the place look perfect"

She giggled, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist and clinging to me.

"Thank you, babe," I murmured, leaning down to press a hollow kiss to her forehead. "Since you've been working so hard, I think you deserve some ice cream today."

"Yes!!! Let me go change my clothes! Five minutes, baby!" She dashed enthusiastically toward the bedroom.

I leaned heavily against the cold marble of the kitchen island, letting out a long, ragged exhale. Fuck. I looked around the spotless kitchen. I should be happy. She was the perfect girlfriend. But all I could see was that she was methodically scrubbing away every last lingering trace of Jessica's chaotic, messy ghost.

I felt absolutely nothing.

*

After taking a long, picturesque stroll through the city park, we stopped at a local ice cream parlor. I bought her a large scoop of bright pink strawberry, and I ordered my usual: a simple scoop of vanilla.

We found a secluded bench under the shade of an oak tree. For some reason, Gaby was absolutely obsessed with strawberry. It was almost funny how silent and hyper-focused she became whenever she was eating it.

"Gaby, why do you look so damn serious when you eat ice cream?" I chuckled, watching her tongue dart out to catch a drip.

She just glanced up at me, her brown eyes dark and calculating, and went back to licking her cone.

"See?" I giggled.

"It’s tasty, you know! Strawberry is the absolute best flavor!" she pouted, suddenly pointing her finger at my hand. "Why do you always order plain vanilla?"

"Heh. Well, I just like the taste of—"

Before I could finish my sentence, she lunged sideways, ramming her shoulder hard against my bicep. My hand jerked, and the scoop of vanilla ice cream popped out of the cone, splattering violently onto the hot pavement.

"Hey! Babe! You made my ice cream fall!" I protested, staring at the melting white puddle.

She didn't apologize. Instead, she climbed directly into my lap, straddling my thighs on the park bench, and smashed her mouth against mine. Her lips were freezing cold, flooding my mouth with the overpowering, artificial sweetness of strawberry.

She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. "It tastes good, right?" she whispered fiercely. "Strawberry is so much tastier than plain vanilla, baby."

It wasn't about the ice cream. She was trying to overwrite my senses. She knew vanilla was Jessica's scent.

She crashed her lips back against mine, grinding her hips down against my lap. We made out wildly, entirely uncaring of the families walking on the path nearby. I could feel her heavy, wet heat pressing directly against my growing bulge.

"Baby, I’m horny. Let’s fuck again. Somewhere unusual," she whispered, her breath hot against my neck.

She grabbed my hand and dragged me off the path, pulling me into a heavily wooded, secluded patch of the park. It was hidden by the brush, but anyone walking closely by would easily hear us. That was the point.

I fucked her ruthlessly against the trunk of a tree. My hands wrapped tightly around her throat, choking off her air, while my other hand clamped violently over her mouth to muffle her loud, feral moans. I bent her spine back, drilling into her with brutal, punishing force. It didn’t take long for her legs to completely give out. She trembled violently, squirting hot fluid down my thighs. Afterward, she dropped to her scraped knees in the dirt and took my entire load deep down her throat.

She clung to my arm the entire walk home, looking blissfully high. My lust was satisfied, but the bleeding void in my chest hadn't shrunk a single inch.

And the terrifying part was, this was becoming our normal. We had already desecrated a cafe restroom, the back row of a movie theater, and a private booth at an expensive restaurant. Even the upholstery of my car permanently smelled like sex and desperation.

*

We had formalized our domestic routine. Gaby sternly commanded the morning chores and breakfast, while I took over the afternoon cooking and dishwashing. I played my role perfectly, rewarding her obsessive tidiness with my attention.

"Baby... are you done?" a soft, highly seductive voice purred from the hallway.

I turned around from the sink, drying my hands on a towel. "Oh my God."

Gaby was standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but an intricate harness of black lace straps that barely covered her modesty. She had let her dark hair fall loose over her shoulders, and her eyes burned with dark, submissive lust. "You’re killing me, babe."

She giggled softly. "Look." She turned around, proudly showing off her massive curves. She had inserted a butt plug with a dark, furry tail attached to the base, resting perfectly between her cheeks.

"Fuck, babe."

She reached out, grabbing the collar of my t-shirt. "Let’s go back to our nest, baby."

The violent public sex in the park clearly hadn't been enough to numb either of us. We fucked again that night. This time, it was endlessly harder. I yanked the butt plug out and drilled both of her holes back and forth, pushing her physical limits until she was screaming in pure, agonizing ecstasy. We completely ruined the fresh, clean bedsheets she had just put on that morning, turning the mattress into a slick battlefield. After forcing her through multiple, exhausting orgasms, I finally finished deep inside her.

We didn't even bother cleaning up. We stayed tangled in the messy sheets, cuddling in the dark until the morning light broke, just like we always did.

For a normal man, this was the ultimate fantasy. She was gorgeous, fiercely loyal, intelligent, and actively prioritized my darkest sexual desires over her own comfort.

But as I lay awake, staring blankly at the high ceiling of the loft, I felt absolutely... nothing. There was no spark in my chest. I felt like a dead man trapped in a walking corpse. I felt like my soul had already been stolen and dragged away by a ghost.

And as I closed my eyes, desperately trying to sleep, the artificial scent of strawberry faded away. The only thing my sensory memory could process was the faint, lingering scent of vanilla.

**

Bzzt. Bzzt.

My phone vibrated violently against the kitchen counter while I was busy restocking the fridge with beer the next morning. When I saw the screen, a massive, genuine hit of adrenaline spiked in my veins. Nikolay. I had never felt this happy to receive a phone call. For an entire month, the Russian crew had been buried in their summer jobs, leaving me stranded in this domestic prison.

"Derro!!! My Brotha!!" Nikolay's loud, booming voice shattered the quiet loft.

I chuckled, a real, authentic sound. "Hello! It seems your shift is finally over, eh?"

"Derro! We will never speak of this corporate slavery again! I deeply regret accompanying Boris to this job! Bah! It is physically exhausting!"

I laughed loudly. "You have the endless energy to party all night long, but you have no energy to work a simple job for just a few hours?"

"Blyad! You do not even work, Derro! You can’t lecture me!"

"Alright, alright," I smiled. "So, what’s up, Broda?"

"Well, Derro. Since you have been constantly asking me to find a party for a whole month... this time, your greatest party-finder brings you incredible news!"

My heart hammered. I desperately needed a distraction from the loft. "Oh?? When?"

"Tomorrow night!! 8:00 PM sharp!"

"Perfect. I’ll absolutely be there tomorrow."

"So.. Derro." Nikolay paused. His chaotic energy vanished, replaced instantly by a cold, serious tone. "Are you still with that Latina girl?"

"Yeah," I answered defensively. "What’s wrong?"

" Is she coming to the club, too?"

"Of course! She’ll come wherever I go. Why? Do you miss her?" I joked, trying to deflect the sudden tension.

"No, Broda. But I want you to ask her first, yeah? Do not force her to join the party."

My jaw tightened. "Don’t worry, Broda! She’ll come."

"Heh. I see," Nikolay muttered darkly. "Well, do not forget. Tomorrow, 8:00 PM sharp! And ask her first, Derro! I’m serious."

"Chill out, Broda! See you tomorrow."

I hung up the phone, chuckling under my breath. It was hilarious that Nikolay still thought Gaby was some fragile, shy girl who needed protecting. He had no idea what kind of wild, submissive monster she had become. The news of the party completely hyped me up. I couldn't wait for tomorrow night.

The alcohol, the deafening music, the chaotic exhibitionism... this was exactly the fix I needed.

**

"Babe, I’m back."

Silence. The loft was completely still. I set the heavy paper grocery bags down on the marble kitchen island, my eyes automatically scanning the pristine, tidy corners of the living room.

"Gaby?"

I walked down the hall and pushed the bedroom door open. Gaby wasn't there. But my eyes immediately locked onto something lying perfectly flat across the center of the freshly made duvet.

It was a dress. A sleek, navy-blue, backless cocktail dress made of heavy silk.

I frowned, stepping closer. It was highly unusual for Gaby to go shopping without me. Since moving in, she had practically glued herself to my side. I reached out and flipped over the small cardboard price tag still dangling from the strap.

$580.00.

My jaw tightened. Gaby was a freshman living off a basic meal plan. She didn't have nearly six hundred dollars to blow on a single piece of silk. Where the hell did she get the money for this? Who bought this for her?

I carefully set the tag down, leaving the dress in its exact position, and backed out of the room.

I grabbed a cold beer from the fridge, unlocked the heavy glass doors, and stepped out onto the balcony. I collapsed onto the floor cushions and sparked a cigarette. It had been weeks since I had sat out here alone. I pulled my phone from my pocket and shot Gaby a quick text, reminding her that we had to leave for the underground club by 8:00 PM.

I stared out at the Chicago skyline, a hollow chuckle escaping my lips. "What a fucking weird feeling."

I reached over and picked up my acoustic guitar from its stand. I rested it on my knee and blindly began strumming the old, melancholic chords I used to play last winter. I let the music blend with the distant sirens of the city and the thick gray smoke from my cigarette. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath of the cold air, letting the faint, sweet scent of vanilla fill my lungs...

My fingers froze on the guitar strings.

Wait. The music died. I inhaled sharply. The subtle, unmistakable scent of vanilla perfume was lingering heavily in the air right in front of my face.

Wait! I dropped the guitar onto the cushions and violently scrambled to my feet. I threw the glass doors open and rushed back inside the loft. I tore through the living room, the kitchen, and the mini-library, my heart hammering a frantic, desperate rhythm against my ribs. I was searching every shadow, desperately praying it wasn't just an illusion.

But the loft was completely, utterly empty.

I grabbed my own hair, pulling hard. Fuck. My broken brain was just playing sick psychological tricks on me. The grief was making me hallucinate smells now.

I walked slowly back out to the balcony. The vanilla scent had already been swallowed by the city wind.

Beep-click!

The heavy deadbolt of the front door turned. I stepped back inside, waiting for the usual, cheerful "Baby, I'm home!" There was no greeting. Just the quiet thud of the door shutting.

I walked out of the kitchen and into the entryway. "Gaby?"

She was standing with her back pressed flat against the metal door. Her face was pale and drawn tight with anxiety. Her fingers were trembling, fidgeting violently with the strap of her purse. She looked like she had just seen a ghost.

"Hey," I said, my voice dropping into a low, cautious register. "What happened, babe? Where are you coming from?"

She flinched at my voice. Suddenly, she lunged forward, throwing her arms around my neck and burying her face into my chest. "I love you, baby," she whispered, her voice cracking with raw, desperate panic.

"Hey, what’s wrong?" I grabbed her shoulders, trying to push her back gently to read her face.

She resisted, hugging me incredibly tight, hiding her eyes against my shirt. I sighed, my eyes narrowing in suspicion as my hand slowly stroked her dark hair. "What happened to you, babe? Is something wrong?"

"No, baby!" she lied, her voice muffled against my chest. "I just... I just really wanted to hold you."

"Where have you been all afternoon?"

"… I just went for a walk outside... to meet a friend," she stammered.

"Okay?" I asked, my tone flattening. A friend who buys you $600 dresses?

"… Yeah."

Her body language was screaming at me. She was terrified. Was she trying to play some pathetic game to make me jealous? Or did something genuinely dangerous just happen to her out there?

"Fine, babe," I said coldly. I gripped her arms and firmly pushed her back, forcing her to look at me. Her brown eyes were wide and evasive. "But if something actually happened, you know you can talk to me, right?"

She nodded quickly, refusing to hold my gaze.

I let go of her arms and seamlessly slid the charming mask back over my face. "Alright. Let’s get ready. You didn't forget we have Nikolay's party tonight, right?"

Her bright, warm smile instantly returned, though it looked brittle and entirely manufactured. "Of course not!"

"Alright, go get ready, babe. We can’t be late, or the Russians will lock us out."

"Don’t worry! And I bought something really nice to wear for you, baby!" she said, her voice pitching up with fake cheerfulness as she practically ran past me toward the safety of the bedroom.

I stood perfectly still in the hallway, my jaw clenched tight. What the fuck is she hiding?

I opened the front door and stepped out into the quiet corridor. I looked down the hall toward the elevators. There was nothing. No unusual sounds, no lingering footsteps, no trace of anyone following her home.

I stepped back inside and locked the deadbolt. She had mysteriously acquired an incredibly expensive dress, she was acting completely terrified, and her timeline made absolutely zero sense. My mind raced, coldly dissecting her every move. The paranoia was setting in.

But as I walked back toward the kitchen, a darker realization stopped me in my tracks.

Why do I even care? I stared at my reflection in the dark oven glass. Am I actually worried about her safety… or am I just terrified someone might steal her from me, too? Fuck.

**

Thirty minutes later, the bedroom door opened.

Gaby stepped out into the living room, smoothing her hands down her thighs. The navy-blue, backless silk dress fit her flawlessly, hugging every single curve of her body.

"Baby! Do you like it?" she asked, a nervous, hopeful smile on her face.

I smiled, completely burying the cold paranoia gnawing at my brain. "You’re absolutely stunning, babe." I closed the distance between us, pulling her in by the waist to give her a deep, appreciative kiss. "When did you buy this?"

She smiled innocently, her brown eyes bright. "Not too long ago!"

Liar. "It feels like real silk," I murmured, pretending to casually analyze the fabric between my fingers. "Must have been pretty expensive."

"Not really!" she deflected quickly, turning away to grab her purse.

My jaw tightened. I know it was five hundred and eighty dollars, Gaby. If she had drained her own meager savings to buy it, she was hiding it. If someone else had bought it for her, she was hiding them. I wasn't going to play games.

I pulled my phone out, opened my banking app, and swiftly transferred $1,000 directly into her checking account.

"Alright, let’s head out to the party," I said, slipping the phone back into my pocket.

"Wait!" She froze as her phone buzzed in her purse. She pulled it out, the screen illuminating her sudden, panicked expression. "Did you just transfer a thousand dollars to me?"

I nodded smoothly, walking toward the front door. "It’s to reimburse you for the dress." I turned back and gave her a warm, protective smile.

"But… I bought it to impress you, baby. Not to trick you into giving me money." She looked down at her heels, visibly distressed and ashamed. "You already spoil me so much. I can't take this."

"Babe." I walked back over, gently placing a finger under her chin and lifting her face until she was forced to look into my eyes. "You live under my roof now. Anything you need, I will provide it. Besides, you do a lot of housekeeping to keep this place nice. Consider it an allowance. Don’t ever hesitate to tell me if you need anything, okay?"

She melted completely. She threw her arms around my neck, burying her face in my chest. "All I need is you, baby."

"Alright. Let’s go, we’re going to be late."

We pulled into the dark, gravel parking lot of the underground bar a few minutes early. Nikolay, Boris, and Andrew were already leaning against the brick wall, smoking cigarettes and waiting for us.

"Derro! At last!" Nikolay called out, tossing his cigarette.

"Hi everyone," Gaby greeted them politely. She immediately stepped behind me, clinging tightly to my arm and hiding from their intense presence.

Nikolay, Boris, and Andrew didn't say hello back to her. Instead, the three of them exchanged a very long, heavy, silent look with each other. Then, they slowly turned their eyes back to me.

Just as I thought, my ego preened. They’re completely shocked by how hot she looks! "What?" I smirked at them, "Are we going to party, or are we just going to stare each other down in an alleyway?"

Nikolay let out a hollow chuckle. "Derro… Derro.. Derro! Impatient as always. Let’s go inside."

As we pushed our way through the loud, crowded bar, I could feel the heavy stares of the other guys tracking Gaby's every move. The open-backed dress was a massive head-turner. Heh. Keep looking, dogs. She’s strictly mine.

We reached our reserved VIP booth in the back. I sat down right in the center of the leather sofa, spreading my legs and resting my arms across the backrest like a king holding court. Without me having to utter a single command, Gaby obediently climbed right onto my lap, wrapping her arms securely around my neck.

The Russian crew took their seats across the table. They just stared at us. They looked completely uneasy, the usual chaotic party energy entirely drained from their faces.

I smirked. "It’s been a whole month since we hit the bar," I said loudly over the pounding bass, trying to break the ice. "Why so tense, boys? Did you forget how to party while you were trapped in your corporate jobs?"

Nikolay forced a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Derro! Since when did you become this fucking crazy, eh?"

"Crazy, you say?" I chuckled, "I’ll show you what crazy actually looks like."

I looked down at the beautiful girl sitting on my lap. "Suck me, babe."

"Yes, baby!" she agreed instantly. She didn't hesitate. She didn't care that my friends were sitting two feet away. She immediately started to slide off my lap, her knees already brushing the sticky floor of the club.

"Brotha."

A heavy, incredibly strong hand suddenly clamped down on my wrist.

I flinched, looking up. Andrew was leaning entirely across the table, gripping my arm with iron force. His polite, quiet demeanor was completely gone. His face was stone-cold and fiercely stern.

"We drink first," Andrew commanded, his voice slicing cleanly through the loud electronic music. "Do not forget the tradition."

It wasn't a suggestion. It was a physical boundary. Andrew was looking at me with pure disgust.

I stared into Andrew's deadpan eyes for a tense, heavy second

I laughed, shaking off his grip. "Come back up here, babe," I said, grabbing Gaby by the waist and hoisting her back onto my lap. I looked across the table. "Alright then, boys. Pour the shots. Let’s get to drinking."

*

As usual, Nikolay was playing bartender for the booth. But my hyper-vigilant brain quickly noticed a massive shift in his routine. He was deliberately skipping Gaby, pouring her half-shots or casually handing her water instead of vodka. He was actively pacing her.

I observed the crew closely. Their behavior was entirely unnatural. They didn’t immediately jump up and disappear into the chaotic dance floor like they usually did. They just stayed anchored to the leather sofas, sipping their drinks and watching us.

I glanced across the small table. Andrew hadn't touched his glass in twenty minutes. Nikolay was just quietly exchanging pleasant banter with Boris and Gaby.

What the fuck? Why are they acting so painfully boring?

Gaby, on the other hand, seemed to be genuinely enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. Whenever Nikolay or Boris threw a joke her way, she replied with her natural, witty attitude. They weren't treating her like my sexual prop; they were treating her like a little sister.

What is wrong with everyone tonight?! "Guys, do you seriously not want to go dance?" I asked, forcefully injecting my voice into their conversation.

"Derro! Hanging out like this is fun!" Nikolay answered smoothly, though his usual booming energy felt entirely forced.

Are they just tired from playing corporate dress-up all month? I stared at them, my mind spinning into a dark spiral. Or are they staring because they're interested in Gaby? I grinned, "Babe, wanna dance?" I asked her loudly.

"Sure, baby!" she answered cheerfully, completely oblivious to the tension in the booth.

I glanced at the crew. They had stopped talking entirely. All three of them had their gazes locked heavily onto us.

Let’s give them a fucking show, then. "Dance for me right here, babe," I commanded. I leaned forward, pressing an aggressive, marking kiss into her neckline. "Show me how you move."

She obediently stood up from my lap, positioning herself between my spread knees. Her dark eyes locked onto mine, swimming with blind, submissive arousal. She began to roll her hips, moving sensually to the heavy, pulsing bass of the club.

I reached out, grabbing the hem of her expensive silk dress. I began to slide the fabric up her thighs, exposing her bare hips to the entire table.

"Enough, Broda."

Andrew reached entirely across the table. His hand clamped down over mine with a brutal, iron grip, physically halting my movement.

I stared him down, my eyes flashing with cold, violent defiance. I ignored his command, trying to rip my hand free to pull her dress higher.

"I said, enough!" Andrew stood up abruptly. He reached past me, grabbing Gaby gently by the arm and trying to pull her safely away from my toxic orbit.

My martial arts instincts and my manic paranoia violently collided. I lashed out.

I drove my boot hard into Andrew's stomach. The forceful kick sent him stumbling backward until he crashed heavily onto the sticky floor of the booth.

I immediately snapped my head toward Nikolay and Boris, my fists raised, waiting for the retaliation. But they didn't move. They just sat perfectly still in the booth. They didn't yell. They didn't reach for their bottles. They just watched me.

Andrew slowly got back to his feet. He didn't raise his hands to defend himself. He just stared at me with cold, deadpan eyes.

I shoved Gaby behind my back, stepping up until I was inches from Andrew's face. I glared him down, my chest heaving, desperately trying to reassert my dominance. He had touched my territory.

"You want to punch me, Broda?" Andrew asked, his voice eerily calm over the club's deafening music. "Go ahead."

I planted my feet and swung, driving a brutal, textbook punch directly into his gut.

He flinched for a split second, the air rushing out of his lungs, but he didn't fold. He immediately straightened back up, returning to his cold, stoic expression. He didn't fight back. He took my absolute best shot, and he looked at me with nothing but pity.

He made my violence look incredibly, pathetically weak.

"I will not let you treat her like a cheap whore, Broda," Andrew rasped, catching his breath.

What? My brain violently misfired.

Why does he care so much about her?! Suddenly, the invisible dots connected. The $580 price tag. Her terrified face this afternoon. Is Andrew the one who bought her the dress?! Is she fucking my brother behind my back?!

I lost it. I grabbed Andrew's collar with both hands, shoving him backward and pressing my forearm crushing against his throat. "How fucking dare you?!" I roared.

"What you are doing to Gaby crosses the line, Derro," Nikolay intervened. his voice cutting through my rage. It was low, steady, and completely heartbroken. He and Boris were still sitting calmly on the sofa. "We came here tonight to have fun together. Not to watch you use another person like a disposable tool."

Fuck!

I slowly released Andrew's collar, taking a step back. Andrew didn't retaliate; he just calmly smoothed out his shirt.

"I understand that you are still mourning Jessica," Andrew said quietly, his tone softening into genuine, devastating warmth. "But you should not take your pain out on someone who genuinely cares about you, Broda."

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

"We are deeply sorry we could not be present when you were down, Broda," Boris spoke up, his massive frame shifting awkwardly. "We failed you. But if you still cannot move on... it is a coward's move to exploit someone like this."

Fuuuuuuck!

Nikolay finally stood up. He walked over, gently placing a heavy, grounding hand on my trembling shoulder. He looked directly into my cracked, manic eyes, cutting through all my bullshit.

"Do you really like her, Derro?" Nikolay asked softly. "Do you really love Gaby?"

"No! No! No!"

Gaby suddenly lunged past me, grabbing my arm with a terrifying, frantic grip. She positioned herself between me and the Russians, shielding me.

"Stay away from him!" she screamed at them, her voice shrill and entirely unhinged. "Don’t disturb our life!"

She turned back to me. Her face was pale and slick with sweat, but she forced a massive, plastic smile onto her lips. She looked exactly like an addict terrified of losing her supply. "Let’s just get out of here, baby! We’ll go home! We’ll continue the fun at home, okay?!"

My body and mind went entirely, terrifyingly numb. The manic adrenaline in my veins completely flatlined, leaving behind nothing but a cold, crushing exhaustion. I didn't say another word to the brothers. I just surrendered, letting Gaby drag my hollow shell out of the club, leaving the only people who actually wanted to save me behind.

*

Gaby took the wheel. She drove us back to the loft in complete silence.

My mind was completely shattered. My sanity had been violently forced awake by the brothers. I mindlessly followed Gaby out of the parking garage and up into the loft, stepping back into my own tomb.

"Let’s have fun tonight, baby!" she said, her voice entirely too loud and manic. She grabbed my hand, desperately dragging me toward the bedroom. She started stripping off her expensive dress bit by bit, trying to seduce me.

But I felt absolutely nothing. It was like my brain had completely stopped working. The manic, predatory persona was aggressively fighting with the cold, sobering reality of what I had done to her.

"Baby!" Her desperate voice echoed in my ears. She stood in front of me, completely bare, looking deeply into my eyes.

"Let’s not do this tonight, Gaby," I said, gently pushing her hands away. "I just want to rest."

I turned away from her, threw myself face-up onto the mattress, and rested my forearm over my eyes. I just wanted to fall asleep instantly and escape the guilt.

"Baby…"

She climbed onto the bed, completely ignoring my request.

She already knew all of my biological weak spots, and she ruthlessly exploited them to force a physical reaction. She slowly stripped away the rest of my clothes. She forced her mouth down onto mine in a deep, aggressive kiss, while her hands busily stroked me until my body betrayed me and became fully erect.

She didn't ask for permission. She just positioned her hips and sank down, taking my entire length inside her.

She began to ride me with a fierce, punishing rhythm. I didn't touch her. I didn't hold her hips. I just lay flat on my back, my arms resting limply at my sides, staring dead-eyed at the dark ceiling.

She leaned forward, aggressively biting every inch of skin from my ear down to my collarbone. The sharp pain barely registered; it just felt like a dull tingle. She kept riding me hard, one of her small hands wrapping around my throat to choke me.

As her climax rapidly approached, she grabbed my shoulders with a frantic, desperate grip. Her body began to tremble violently. Her fingernails dug brutally into my chest, slicing open my skin and drawing blood. I didn't even flinch.

She moved down, her hands gripping the base of my shaft tightly as she took me into her mouth. She devoured me fiercely. The overwhelming sensation finally forced my body's tension to build up. She could clearly feel the throb in her grip. She shoved me as deep as she could, sucking hard until my body completely surrendered, shooting a heavy load deep down her throat.

It was completely, terrifyingly hollow. My body was covered in sweat and bleeding scratches, but my soul was entirely dead. I had just been used as a literal sex doll to soothe a terrified girl's ego.

She crawled up and laid her head heavily against my chest. I could feel her hot tears dripping down onto my skin.

I just closed my eyes. I needed to rest.