For a long, blissful moment, Abbie lay in bed without any memory of what she'd done the night before. Her baby blue eyes slowly opened, taking in sight of the morning sun crawling imperceptibly down her bedroom wall, and she drifted in that languid peace that only truly happened in those moments before the world caught up with her sense of self. She didn't have any cares, any worries--Abbie didn't even know what day it was, and it felt exhilarating instead of terrifying. It was the most glorious absence of care and worry, a free and easy relaxation that existed in those transient instants before her brain finished booting up and all she knew was that she was well-rested and content.
Naturally, it couldn't last. Abbie's leg brushed against the wet spot on her mattress, now cold after a long night's sleep, and it was enough to make the memories of the previous evening crash down on her with their own malicious gravity. "Oh shit," she whispered to herself, flinging back the sheets and realizing just how badly she'd lost her resolve the night before.
The damp patch on the sheets spread perhaps two feet in diameter, give or take a few inches, and even from here Abbie could smell the heady scent of sex saturating the fabric. She was suddenly aware of a sandpapery dryness in her mouth and throat, the legacy of collapsing into sleep without taking even a moment to replenish the fluids she lost from.... Abbie didn't like to finish that sentence, not even in the privacy of her head. She'd been doing so good, too. It had been almost a whole week since she looked at her phone before bed, and three weeks since she'd allowed her webscrolling to turn into something more--
Her phone. Abbie looked around wildly, wondering where she'd managed to put it last night. She couldn't remember much about the end of the evening's events; by the time she finally fell asleep, her brain had long ago given up recording things with any kind of clarity. It wasn't on her charger, it wasn't even on her bedside table, and she didn't even know what time it was without it. Abbie yanked up her pillows and rummaged through her bedding, her pale slender fingers searching wildly for the rough plastic casing that among the soft sheets and blankets. Finally, she brushed against something that wasn't fabric... but it wasn't her phone either.
It was her toy. Her special toy, the one Abbie thought she didn't keep charged anymore. Finding it in her bedclothes suggested a whole host of things about the previous evening, none of them good. Abbie held it gingerly by the dangling antenna that allowed the vibrator to connect to the Internet while still inserted into her cunt, and experimentally squeezed the concealed power button beneath the silicone sheath. It buzzed intensely between her fingers, still full of vigor. Abbie wanted to believe that meant she hadn't used it, but the slick, sore feeling between her legs whenever she moved told her otherwise. With a grimace, she set it on the bedside table and kept looking for her phone.
After a full minute of searching, Abbie found the slim device wedged between her headboard and mattress, its battery completely drained. She plugged it in, then grabbed an oversized nightshirt and tugged it on over her naked body and went to get a drink of water while she waited for the phone to boot up and show her just exactly what the fuck she was looking at when she passed out. Not that Abbie didn't already have a pretty good idea, but she at least wanted her suspicions confirmed before she decided how badly to berate herself for her total lack of willpower the previous evening.
No. That was unfair. Unfair and unhelpful at that--if Abbie constantly treated her relapses as some kind of moral failing on her part, she was never going to escape the insidious grip that BrainBreak.com had on her psyche. She'd learned the hard way already that the hypnosis files and 'brain training' games on the site had a real effect on her; what started as a fun hobby to improve her concentration and memory had turned into long, languorous sessions of teasing her slick cunt over and over again as the mesmerizing voice of the site admin slowed down time and kept her blissfully poised on the edge of climax. Every game seemed to flow so smoothly into the next, every video she unlocked fascinated her more and more... it wasn't just her weakness that lulled her into compliance. It was the Brain Breaker's clever, methodical use of the mind's own system of rewards against it.
Abbie shivered, remembering how she got better at the simple games that the site started her on, little realizing that every subsequent challenge she unlocked trained her thoughts in ever-more specific ways. And the guided meditation videos that she opened up with her in-game currency had slowly given way to potent, sexual trances that made her cum all over her rubbing fingers, then from there to longer and longer sessions of pleasure that ended with climax as a reward. And orgasm drifted ever more tantalizingly out of reach with every file until she found herself forgetting why she even wanted it when the Brain Breaker's trances felt so fucking good....
Thankfully, spilling cold water all over her trembling hands snapped Abbie out of the spell of nostalgia that threatened to enfold her. She refilled the pitcher and put it back in the fridge, then took a long gulp from her glass. Then she grabbed the pitcher out of the refrigerator again and refilled her cup. It must have been a longer night than she realized if she was that thirsty. Abbie filled up the pitcher a second time and went back to her bedroom, cursing her treacherous subconscious for lulling her into yet another damn night lost to the website.
