Page 51 of Delivered to the Devil

I flicker my eyes back and forth between his, trying to find something to banish the insanity from this conversation. But I find no reassurance. No sign of remorse. I have to accept there’s nothing rational or normal about any of this. “What else are you here for?”

“To make sure things run smoothly. That you live up to his expectations—that he can use you in whatever hole he wants. Repair whatever he breaks, so he can use you again.” His tone remains casual. No hint of regret or apology. This is a job to him. But at the same time, I know he doesn’t see me as the worthless object he describes me as. So I press on.

“Is that why you’re here now?” I’ve asked the same question before and gotten the answer I hoped for. But it’s still hard to believe it’s true. Especially after those cold words.

“No.” He offers no explanation. But the answer is firm and sure. This time, it’s not because Gabor wants him here. And that’s good enough for now. So I burrow my head into the crook of his shoulder and inhale his scent with deep breaths until I fall asleep.

CHAPTER 24

“Death of Peace of Mind”

by Bad Omens

Janos

It’s a daily struggle to keep my hands off Rebecca—or rather, my dick out of her. Especially now that she’s doing better and life has returned to her bright green eyes and her cheeks have regained a rosy hue.

I want to see more of this side of her. See her grow and find new purpose and strength. So I stay with her as much as I can, like I promised her. Though, it’s not just because I sense how my presence calms her and lights up those green orbs. It’s as much because I can’t stay away. This girl sucks me in, in a way no one ever has. Even though I can’t fuck her, I find that I want to be around her, take care of her, and control her.

But no matter how much I want to protect her, I also want her pain. I feed on it—her screams, her fight, and her desperation. But what gets me off the most is the combination. The violence and the protection blending together in a potent symbiosis.

She wants it too. Maybe not in the way she gets it, at the hands of Gabor, but I sense how she craves the dichotomy as much as I do. When Gabor doesn’t go overboard and I’m therewith her, caressing her and whispering soothing words in her ear, she comes apart in the most intense orgasms I’ve ever seen.

With Gabor having a lot on his plate and doing a lot of traveling these days, he doesn’t have much time to use Rebecca, and his sadism is at a low level since he’s preoccupied with other things. But I know it’s only a matter of time before he’ll escalate. I’ve seen the same pattern many times before. He won’t stop until he breaks her, and for the first time, I dread the escalation. With all the other girls I’ve processed for Gabor, I don’t care about their agony. If anything, their shrill screams and endless begging make me want to hurt them myself. But with Rebecca, I can’t stand the idea of her going through the kind of torture Gabor likes to inflict before he discards a toy.

But sparing her that pain would mean betraying Gabor. And that’s not an option. So I’m determined to build her up and grant her the resilience to withstand whatever horror is coming until I can find a solution to this fucked-up situation. Until then, all I can do is build Rebecca up, so she can withstand whatever is coming and make sure she doesn’t break for good.

So I find her a new job. Working at the Tesco store doesn’t do her any good. Her posture always bears a hint of defeat whenever she comes home from that place, and I’ve seen the dead look in her eyes when I’ve passed the store to check on her. I’ve considered simply making her quit, but she’d fade even more if she sat at home all day with nothing to do, and she needs a sense of autonomy to help build her strength. So I browse job postings online for a week until I find the perfect job for her. It’s as a waitress on one of the cruise boats that sails along the Danube, serving food on board. They need someone to cater to the customers, help in the kitchen, serve food, and clean. With most of the customers being tourists, Rebecca’s lacking Hungarian might not even be a problem, and if so, her fluency in both English and German can make up for it.

It's perfect, really. She has all the right qualifications, and she’ll love being that close to the water.

I do some research on the place, the owner, and the manager to make sure she’ll be in a safe environment, then print out the job-posting and leave it on the dining table, hoping she’ll have the strength to grab this opportunity herself.

And she does. Late in the afternoon, my phone pings with a notification saying she’s making a call. I smile when I open the app I use to track her phone activity and recognize the phone number from the job posting. My smile only widens when I listen to recording of the conversation and find that she has already landed a job interview two days later.

I’m so proud of the way she handles herself on the phone call that I want to go home and praise her for being such a good girl. But I have to restrain the urge, not wanting her to know how I’m keeping track of her.

My pride only grows when I find out that she has used her credit card at a clothing store the next day and bought herself a coat, a scarf, and even a dress. With her barely having used any money for weeks, much less to spoil herself, I take this as a huge step forward.

I make sure to be in the apartment when it’s time for her to leave for her job interview, knowing my presence will lend her some much-needed support. And because I’m curious to see how she’ll go about this.

She’s nervous from the moment she leaves bed, fidgeting and pacing, going through her clothes in the wardrobe several times, and checking the time every few minutes.

When it’s time for her to leave, she comes to the living room. I glance up from my laptop to find her dressed in a dark green, elegant dress that makes her eyes shine particularly bright, and her face adorned with a little makeup. I haven’t seen her in adress before, and she hasn’t worn makeup since I picked her up at the airport and she realized how hopeless her situation was.

“What?” I say when she just stands there, fingers fidgeting in front of her and her mouth moving with uncertainty as if she wants to say something.

“Um, I have a job interview,” she says, glancing up at me, then down at the floor. “Is it okay if I go?”

My dick hardens, and I’m not sure if it’s her outfit or her asking for permission. She looks so goddamn innocent as she stands there in that dress, all shy and fidgety, and now she’s asking for permission like the good girl she is… I want to grab her and throw her to the floor, rip those pristine pantyhose and shove her dress up. I want to watch those big eyes go all round and vulnerable, full of fearful surrender as I shove my cock inside her and squeeze her throat. I clench my fist beneath the table as I fight the pounding urge.

“You can go,” I say, forcing my voice to remain steady and emotionless.

“Thank you,” Rebecca says, seeming all flustered like she often does when submitting willingly.

I rake my eyes up and down her slender figure. She looks like a prey as she stands there, all pretty and innocent, just waiting out in the open for someone to jump her. “I shouldn’t let you go anywhere like that.”

Her brows furrow with confusion as she gives a slow shake of her head, not following what I mean.

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