Page 63 of Letters From Victor

Victor’s footsteps were slow and deliberate as he moved around me. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears. I bit my lip, every nerve pulled taut, buzzing with anticipation.

“I want you to have something to remind you of me when we’re apart,” he said.

His fingers parted me, probing.

“Something to make you feel good when I can’t be there with you.” He nudged the inside of my knee with his elbow. “Wider, angel.”

I opened my legs as far as my hips allowed. My groin ached from the stretch. Something cool, hard, and smooth replaced Victor’s fingers. I gasped as a chill rippled through me.

“What is?—”

He pressed a silencing finger to my lips as he moved the object in slow swipes, increasingly slippery as he glided it back and forth. I gasped when he ran it over my sweet spot in slow, deliberate circles.

“Don’t make a sound,” Victor commanded. “No matter how much you want to scream. You know I love to hear you cry out, but we mustn’t scandalize our poor hostess downstairs.” His breath was hot, his voice a low, dangerous purr in my ear as he leaned in close. “And don’t you dare pull back.”

I bit down on my lower lip and slowly nodded. Every nerve was alert, and I trembled with anticipation and fear of the unknown.

There was a soft click, and the object in his hand shot to life with a low, rumbling hum. A jolt shot through me as the vibrations sent shockwaves to my nerves. I sucked in a breath, my chest tight as the sensation radiated outward, setting everyinch of me alight. I bit down hard on my lip to stifle the cry that surged in my throat.

The realization hit me—a vibrator. I’d heard whispers, even seen less-than-discreet ads for “massagers.” My sister, Edith, apparently had one in her dressing table that she affectionately called her “electrician,” but I had never imagined using one myself.

Victor moved the vibrator in slow, teasing strokes, never lingering long enough for me to find release. I gripped the sofa’s edge, knuckles straining as I fought to stay silent. Each pass over my sweet spot sent a current through me, like lightning striking a taut wire.

“You’ve never used one of these, have you?” His voice was a velvet caress, smug yet tender.

I shook my head, words failing me. The blindfold heightened every sensation—the cool air against my skin, the warm leather beneath me, the relentless buzz of the vibrator—as if my body were a tightly wound instrument, every nerve a plucked string.

Victor’s free hand slid up my thigh, caressing the tender skin with the lightest of touches. My hips bucked involuntarily away from the vibrator, my nerves utterly overwhelmed.

“You pulled back,” Victor chided, his tone a mix of disappointment and stern control. “I told you not to.”

“I’m sor—“ I started, but he cut me off.

“Keep those legs open for me,” he commanded, nudging at my knees with his elbows.

I forced my trembling thighs wider, submitting to his will.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well, angel,” he whispered. “I know you can take it.”

The vibrator slowed to a torturous crawl, and I breathed a momentary sigh of relief—until I heard another soft click. The hum instantly turned louder, the pitch higher.

A strangled gasp escaped my lips as the new level of sensation crashed over me like a tidal wave. The vibrations were no longer teasing; they were an onslaught, a relentless barrage that left me no time to catch my breath. My hands flew to Victor’s wrists, not to push him away but to anchor myself against the storm raging in my body. Unable to hold it in, my breaths turned to whimpers.

“Not a sound,” Victor reminded me, his voice the only calm thing in the room. “And don’t you dare close your legs.”

I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted copper. The blindfold was wet where my tears had soaked through. Victor had forbidden me to cry out, so all I could do was cry—not from pain or sadness, but from rapture so intense without any other recourse for release.

I writhed against the unyielding force of the vibrator, desperate for relief yet unable to escape its torment. Each vibration sent ripples of pleasure and pain coursing through me, mingling in a dizzying cocktail that left me breathless.

My entire body tensed, every muscle a drawn bowstring ready to snap. I bucked and writhed, my hands clutching Victor’s wrists with desperate need.

“Please,” I whispered, my voice cracked and fragile. “Victor, please.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed the vibrator harder, its furious vibrations sending me over the edge with a violent, uncontrollable force.

My back arched, I dug my fingers into Victor’s wrists, and a white-hot explosion tore through me. The first pulse rocked me to my core, a shockwave of ecstasy that left me momentarily paralyzed. It was followed by another, and another, each one building on the last in a relentless cascade of pleasure. Hot fluid gushed from me, running between my legs and pooling on the sofa.

My mouth opened in a silent scream, every muscle in my body contracting with unbearable intensity.

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