The toy slid deeper. Two inches left. One. Then it was fully seated, the flared base pressing against her labia, the full nine inches of silicone buried in her cunt. She couldn't speak anymore. Couldn't think. Her entire existence was the toy—the weight of it, the stretch of it, the impossible fullness of it pressing against her cervix and her vaginal walls and someplace deeper that she didn't have words for.

"Now the bulb," Victor said.