Page 27 of Delivered to the Devil

Tie me up?Why the hell would I want that? It would render me even more helpless.

But maybe it would be easier—less devastating—with the ropes. I know it would have been last night. Having my hands free and still not managing any significant resistance was devastating. With the ropes, I won’t feel the helplessness as acutely.

Suddenly, I badly want him to tie me up. But I can’t bring myself to admit it—I can’t make myself ask my perpetrator to throw me even deeper at his mercy.

Janos must sense my answer because he pulls the glove off and jumps off the bed. “I’ll tie you up,” he says like it’s supposed to be a reassurance.

And it is.

Being tied up has always made me calm when I’ve played at clubs. Despite everything, the ropes have the same effect today as Janos moves about, tying each of my four limbs to a corner of the bed.

Last night, I struggled when he did the same, but I think the difference is that I’m somehow convinced Gabor won’t be here today. It’s just Janos and me. That knowledge allows me to give in for a while.

But when he settles between my legs again and squirts new lube between my ass cheeks, whatever little calm I had achieved vanishes into thin air. I start struggling, tugging at the ropes and begging.

“Nooo, pleeease,” I cry when he circles a gloved finger in the moisture and starts massagingthathole.“Don’t do this!”

“Shh, I’ll go slow,” he says, like it’s supposed to help.

But nothing helps. This is even more humiliating than Gabor invading my body and making it turn against me. It doesn’t matter that it’s only Janos. Nothing matters. The violation is horrible, no matter how much I twist and turn it in my mind.

I cry out when he breaches the opening. It’s only the tip of his finger, but it doesn’t matter how much it is. The intrusion tears through my soul with painful defeat.

I fist the sheets and clamp my eyes shut as he starts massaging. I want to draw in on myself and forget everything, but the sensation is too obtrusive and so is the softness of the sheets. They’re like a cruel joke, just like Janos’s reassurance.

My world spins like a carousel out of control, threatening to hurl me off and shatter me at any moment.

“Relax, or it will just hurt,” Janos urges. But it doesn’t work, and when I tighten my muscles around the intruding finger, a large hand comes up to rest on my lower back. “Let go,” he coaxes.

I can’t. Panic flares through my whole body, constricting my lungs until it’s like breathing through a straw. Nothing will override this horrible feeling of having a stranger’s finger pushing into my ass.

“Breathe,” Janos says as he stops massaging. “It will be much easier if you just focus on taking deep breaths.”

“No!” I wail.

Lowering his voice to a scary command, he repeats, “Breathe.”

The deep resonance of his voice is like a slap to the face. My world stops spinning, and I drag in a sharp breath that finally reaches my lungs.

Janos moves his hand in circles on my back. The tenderness is cruel. It’s only there to bend me to his will, but I’m so starved I’ll take any kind of comfort. So I give in. I soak up the soothing feeling of his hand and release the strain in my muscles, one fiber at a time.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Keep going just like that. I promise this won’t hurt.”

His words hit into some fundamental part of me, spreading heat throughout my cold body. When the finger moves another notch in, I let it.

Janos takes up the slow massage again, gradually working his way in. Every time he pushes deeper, I let out an anguished whimper and tense up. But then I feel the warm caresses on my back and go slack, sinking deeper into that submissive mindset where I crave his praise. And I get it every time. Thegood girlsare like honey to my ears, melting my insides along with my resistance.

Finally, his finger is all the way in, seated deep inside me.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulls out, and I’m shocked to hear the plaintive moan that slips past my lips. I’m no longer in control. Just like last night, my body betrays me. It takes all I have not to beg him to continue.

But when a piece of smooth metal prods at my ass, a new surge of panic drowns out my need. It’s too big. Much bigger than Janos’s finger. I cry out, clenching my muscles in protest. And then the whole process starts over until the butt plug slides into place, a constant reminder of my helplessness.

When he’s done and leaves me on the bed, I lie completely still. I’m not sure if it’s defeat or some strange kind of submission that has left me dull and heavy, but I can’t seem to move a finger or conjure a thought.

Janos disappears into the kitchen and returns five minutes later, placing something on the nightstand. I don’t turn my head to see what it is. I can’t face him like this, spread out and humiliated. And I’m not sure I could even if I wanted.

But it doesn’t matter what I want. Janos simply lifts my head and turns it to face him. My only consolation is that he doesn’t force me to look him in the eyes. Instead, I stare at a huge plate of breakfast on the nightstand. There’s bread, croissants, sausages, cheese, and fresh fruit.

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