Page 57 of Delivered to the Devil

It’s freeing talking to someone who isn’t part of the dark world that has swallowed me. We talk about everything from TV shows and books to family and exes. I don’t say anything about my current situation, of course, and avoiding the topic gets me into some awkward situations. I’m convinced András senses I’m hiding something, but to my relief, he doesn’t try to pry it out.

What I do talk about is my past and my oppressive family back home—their fanatic religion and my callous parents. In turn, he tells me how he lost his mother when he was eight and grew up with a strict father that was impossible to satisfy.

“On the bright side, it has made me a hardworking man, and I’ve done quite well for myself.” He holds out his hands as his eyes light up with a humor that makes me smile.

He’s always good at finding brightness in the darkness like that, and I almost wish I could tell him about my predicament. But for both his and my sister’s sake, I keep my mouth shut.

CHAPTER 27

“The Flood”

by Leprous

Rebecca

Gabor gradually grows more sadistic in his ways of using me. For a while, it’s almost innocent compared to everything he’s done. Even simple breast torture is enough to get his rocks off.

I’m not unfamiliar with erotic pain. I’ve experienced it many times in the BDSM clubs I frequented back home. It would always be a major turn-on, and my body hasn’t forgotten. As long as I hold on to Janos and he holds on to me, I’ll get through it. Sometimes, I’ll even get wet as Gabor twists and turns my nipples until I scream. He finds great joy in taunting me with my warped need. I want to combust under the weight of shame as he tells me what a disgusting whore I am for liking it, but when I gaze into Janos’s eyes, I don’t feel dirty. His eyes might hold the same sadistic pleasure as Gabor’s, but where Gabor’s eyes are cold and dead deep within, Janos’s gaze has a spark of warmth that lights me up and makes me want to cast myself at his feet and beg him for the same pain.

Slowly, things worsen. Gabor’s breast torture turns into punching my ass and thighs, kicking me like he’s done before, and slapping my face. The latter is even worse than the kicking. Humiliation is like hot coals burning me from within as he forcesme to face him while raining pain and degradation down over me.

Tears are streaking down my cheeks, and my chest is coiling tight with onsetting panic as Janos says, “Wouldn’t you enjoy watching instead?”

Gabor looks up, and his eyes brighten with cruel glee. He wipes the side of his mouth with his thumb and takes a step back. “Sure, Janos, have at it.”

I look up to find Janos’s eyes glimmering with sadistic lust, and Gabor’s features pull up into a wide smile as he notices the same. I think Gabor holds a certain respect for Janos and his sadism since he sometimes lets Janos participate as more than just a helping hand holding me in place and muffling my screams.

Janos doesn’t hold back. He puts in the same strength as Gabor, and the size of his hand makes it hurt even more. It’s brutal, degrading, and painful, and I cry the whole way through. But having Janos do it—seeing the warm flicker in his eyes—makes the whole difference. The devastation morphs into this sort of erotic, intimate experience, and when Gabor says he wants to see me come, I combust in an earth-shattering orgasm as Janos slams his cock inside while slapping my face.

For a while, I almost look forward to Gabor’s visits because they allow me a sort of intimacy with Janos I can’t have when we’re alone. Janos’s potent combination of brutality and care awakens a buzzing fire inside me that I want to experience over and over again until it consumes me so much I don’t exist beyond him.

But the slapping and punching isn’t enough for Gabor. There’s a dangerous urge within him that keeps driving him to more extreme brutalities. One night when Janos comes into the apartment, wearing his suit, the scrawny henchman on his heel, and drags me into the bathroom, alarm bells go off in my head.They become deafening when he starts filling the bathtub and turns the temperature way down low.Janos never does that.

When the tub is full, Janos fires off a quick text on his phone, then joins the other man at the side, taking a passive stance—the guard on duty I so often forget that he is.

Only ten minutes later, Gabor comes in, and worry has my eyes darting back and forth as Gabor undresses—which he never does. Stark naked, he crosses the room and dips a hand in the water that must be ice cold. A cruel smile spreads over his face as he turns to me and says, “Just the right temperature.”

I hope he “only” plans on throwing me into the water and fucking me while I’m shaking from the cold, but part of me knows it’s going to get so much worse. The foreboding feeling only grows when Janos strips down too and steps into the water as Gabor drags me across the floor to make me kneel in front of the tub. Shudders spread through my body, churning my stomach and racking up my pulse to a deadly speed.

I stare up at Janos, who is now crouching in the water, placing towels over the edge of the tub in front of me. I don’t see the point. The terry cloth dips into the water and gets soaked all the way up to the edge within seconds, and it only drives my worries higher.

When Janos finally looks at me, his gaze is cold and closed off. Professional. And I know there’s no help. He won’t get me out of this—whatever this may be.

Gabor shoves my upper body forward, bending me over the edge and sending my head and chest straight toward the cold water. But Janos catches me, right above the surface, and I manage to grab onto him just in time before my arms fall in. But I know all too well I’m only delaying the inevitable.

The irony of the situation strikes me as I stare into the water, clinging to Janos’s arms for dear life. So many times, I’ve tried to let go and plunge into water—the river, the tub—but never haveI succeeded, and now someone else will do it for me. And I’m terrified.

I try to push against Janos to get up, but Gabor shoves me back down with a flat hand on my back, and my hands fall into the freezing water as I lose my grip on Janos. I gasp as I fling my arms back up to grab onto Janos, who tightens his grip on me in return. But I know it’s only for now. In a moment, he’ll be the one holding me down.

Tears gather in my eyes, and small drops fall into the water like a leaking faucet.Drip, drip, drip.Ripples form around the drops, and I watch them with terror, digging my fingers into Janos’s muscular arms.

Please don’t let me go,I beg inwardly. But I know it’s wishful thinking.

“Let’s begin,” Gabor says.

I tense, trying to hold my breath but hyperventilating instead. I can’t stop it, and my breathing only grows more frantic as I think about how water will flood my nostrils and mouth in a moment when Janos dunks me in.

“Let me try to calm her first. Then you’ll be able to go on for longer.” Janos’s voice is cold and detached, but I know he’s trying to help me. Otherwise, he might as well have spoken Hungarian. This is his way of telling me he’s got me—as much as he can.

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