Page 12 of Delivered to the Devil

“To check for STDs.” He takes two more vials of my blood, then pushes me down to lie on the bed, spreads my legs open, and swabs the inside of my pussy.

When he finally lets me move up to lie with my head on the pillow and pull the comforter over me, I feel empty and lost. Tired to the bone. I just want to close my eyes and drift away. So I do that. I close my eyes, shutting everything out as I feel sleep creep in to claim me.

But this nightmare has no end. I’m yanked out of the empty darkness by a massive hand that wraps around my upper arm. My eyes fly open and widen at the sight of a needle coming straight for my arm.

I try to jerk free, but the needle is already stuck in my arm, and a tightening sensation aches in my muscle as he shoots the contents of the syringe into me. Tears pool in my eyes as I stare up at him, shaking my head as I plead with him silently.

He doesn’t say a word, just takes out the needle, packs up the blood and the swab, and clears everything away. I keep staring at him with round eyes, expecting the drug to kick in any minute.

“Are you selling me?” I ask, biting down on my lips to hide the quivering.

“No.” He turns my crimson wingback chair to face the bed and sits in it.

“Why the drugs, then?”

“So you won’t get pregnant.”

I close my eyes tight. There’s no relief in those words. He might not sell me, but that shot means the abuse has only justbegun. This night was just the beginning, and next time, fingers won’t be the only thing Gabor forces inside me.

“Go to sleep,” he says, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I open my eyes and stare into sharp gray ones, uncaring and cold. He’s watching me with blunt directness, and I allow myself to do the same with him, studying this gigantic man who comes at night and seems to have no qualms about the horrible things he does. But despite the apparent cruelty, there’s something powerful and worthy about him that incites respect. He looks like a king on a throne. A mighty man who people would bow down to in deference.

An unwelcome inclination to do just that pops into my mind. I blink with the urge to break eye contact—pull myself out of the disconcerting thought—but he gives a slow shake of his head. My throat bobs as I swallow hard. If I met this man at a BDSM club, I would fall to my knees and submit from that sheer look alone. There’d be no protecting myself. Thereisno protecting myself under those eyes.

His eyes narrow slightly. I think he knows exactly what I’m thinking, and he seems to revel in it as he keeps watching me with brazen directness, spearing straight through my broken barriers, into the place where my submission resides. It hurts—God it hurts. Yet I let him insert himself there and ensnare me into his silent will, and I relish the pain, feeling more alive than I have for a long time.

I want to give in and let him have it all because I know without a doubt that this man is strong enough to carry it. But I also know it will break me. This man is sent by the devil to do his dirty deeds. What little care he seems to hold for me is false—maybe even an order from above to make sure the new toy doesn’t break.

Still, I can’t stop watching. Even knowing how dangerous it is, I also know this man is the only thing I can cling to in this storm that’s about to wreak havoc on my life.

I should have listened to my family—sought help instead of insisting nothing’s wrong with my needs. Because they were right. Iamsick. No healthy person would orgasm at the hands of their perpetrator, and no healthy person would be drawn to the man who has brought on the violation.

I should have listened when I could. Now I’m paying dearly for that mistake.

CHAPTER 6

“Windowpane”

by Opeth

Janos

I stay at Rebecca’s side until dawn breaks, casting a soft light through the curtains and making her chestnut hair glow. Usually, I’d leave the moment I had finished the job—washed the girl, collected the samples needed for the STD tests, and administered the contraceptive shot—but something about this girl compels me to remain in place. A strange urge to look after her has been nagging at me since that first night when our eyes locked.

I’ve seen a plethora of different reactions in the many girls I’ve processed for Gabor over the years. Hatred, fury, panic, despair, and grief. They always look at me like I’m the monster under their bed, and I usually enjoy it, relishing the surge of power as I force them into submission. But this one is different. Sure, she fought and cried, but when I caught her watching me, she went still. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable, and where most girls’ brows would be knitted in fear, hers were soft with a plea for protection.

Holding her down while we waited hadn’t been part of the order. My instructions had been to tie her up on the bed andcover her head. On any other night, I’d step aside once I had carried out the order, only stepping back in if the girl was about to hurl herself over the edge of the bed in a fit of blind panic. But I couldn’t resist the plea in her eyes—I couldn’t resist the urge to watch her soak up the comfort of my hand even as she fell deeper into helplessness beneath my weight. So I stayed with her as we waited for Gabor to show up.

Gabor doesn’t mind me improvising from time to time as long as he gets what he wants and I don’t use the girls for my own pleasure—unless invited. He looked outright pleased when he found me on top of her, and I think that’s why he asked me to not tie her, but just hold her down myself tonight.

I glance at my phone and see that it’s time to leave. We have a shipment coming in this morning that I need to oversee.

Getting up, I take a final look at the sleeping girl. If it wasn’t for the slight puffiness of her eyelids, there’d be no telling what kind of night she has had. Come to think of it, she has been calm since she drifted off—no tossing and turning, as if troubled by nightmares.

I take a step closer and run my knuckles over her cheek, then flatten my palm over the rosy skin. Her lips part, and the softest of moans slips past them as she leans into my touch.

I make a silent huff. Curious girl, this one. Even in her sleep, she reacts to me.

---