All-In.

You can feel his breath on your back. Two more steps and you'll be in reach of your brother's pistol that sits on the shelf, partially hidden from sight by a spare coat that hangs in front.

He's raving to himself, clearly excited beyond measure by the sight before him. With one hand still on your pants, you use it's thumb to peel down your panties, revealing the last thing you have hidden. It's imperative that he doesn't see what your other hand is doing. He makes a grunting sound as the crack of your ass is exposed, and you feel one of his hands reach forward, rough fingers snaking underneath and between your thighs. You grimace at the sensation but feel a moment of triumph, because you're now able to quickly snatch the compact pistol from the shelf and clutch it to your tummy while he's distracted by his prize.

"I gotta take my boots off mister, if you want me to take my pants off."

"Awright girlie, real slow remember."

You bend double and slowly turn to face him. One hand reaches for a boot lace while the other keeps the weapon hidden from view under your naked torso. You're trying to get a fix on where exactly you need to point the pistol, even though at this range missing would be almost impossible. You also need to know where his gun is pointing.

You look up at him. "Gotta sit down mister, is that ok?"

"Whatever, jes' hurry up." His eyes are wide and you have a moment of elation when you see that the revolver is hanging by his thigh while the other hand is undoing his belt. Now or never.

You allow you knees to bend and lower your butt to the floor. As soon as your weight rests on the wooden boards, you kick out one foot to the ankle of the leg that's on his gun side and bring the pistol up, firing once into his stomach before you have your other hand joining the grip. His body barely responds to the bullet, he's looking at you in surprise. You fire twice more, directly into his chest from just a couple of feet away. He staggers, and you see his hand bringing the pistol up. You fire again, hitting him under the chin and sending a spray of blood and brains up to the low wooden ceiling.

He stands still, moving arm stopped where it was. He's rocking slightly, and you kick him again to send him sprawling out the front door and onto the porch. You keep your pistol trained on him even though your pretty sure he's no longer any danger.

The body twitches hideously. The smell of his brain matter and blood assaults your nose. As silence returns you realise that you are hyperventilating, shaking, mostly naked and splattered with blood. You **** your hands to loosen your grip on the pistol and it clunks to the floor.

All you can do is stare at the ruin you've made of this man.