There has to be a way out of this, I know it. Somewhere in the loop, there's got to be a point where I can look away from the screen. Once I look away from the screen, I know I can stop playing with my nipples. Once I stop playing with my nipples, I know I can turn off the device between my legs that keeps tickling my clit with that slow, maddening swirl of stimulation. Once the device isn't teasing my clit, keeping me trapped right on the edge of orgasm, I know I can get myself off. Once I cum, I know I can think about the endless mantras repeating through the headphones. And once my head is clear of those mantras, I know I can look away from the screen.
But I can't look away from the screen. My eyes are drawn helplessly to the tiny dot of light as it traces its way around and around, changing colors in a pattern I can't quite figure out as it trails a circle of shimmering light behind it that slowly fades from view. It continually seems like it's on the verge of crossing its own trail, but the light fades just that tiny fraction of an inch ahead of the dot as they loop around each other perpetually in an endless chase. Every time I think it's about to catch up with itself, the trail of light fades away and the dot shifts to a new color, so the circle is constantly shifting from one beautiful hue to the next. I keep thinking I see words flashing in front of my eyes, but they flash so briefly and the swirl of colors is so beautiful that I can't really read them. They're just pleasant after-images on my retinas, so brief I almost think I'm imagining them saying things like, "RELAX", or "LISTEN", or "WATCH THE SCREEN", or "PLAY WITH YOUR TITS". Sometimes I try to focus on the words, but it's so hard to stop watching the shifting colors and the mesmerizing motion of the dot as it chases itself. Every time I think I'm about to break free of it, I feel my fingers caressing my nipples all over again and I lose my resistance in a swell of drifting pleasure.
Because I can't stop playing with my nipples. My fingers have been moving on their own for what seems like hours, teasing my sensitive skin until my nipples are gathered into stiff buds and every sensation feels like the edge of orgasm. I feel them under my fingertips, tight and pebbly and tingling with arousal as I caress each tiny goose pimple like my breasts are covered in Braille. I draw a slow, sensuous circle around each nipple, sometimes moving my in time, sometimes circling in opposite directions. Occasionally my hands roam wider, to caress the expanse of soft, warm flesh around the nipples and stimulate all the nerves there until I whimper with need, but they always return to the stiff nubs of flesh sticking straight out like they're being pulled by magnets. I can't pull my hands away. I know I should be able to; they're my hands, it's my body. But something in the back of my head knows that the pleasure will end if I stop rubbing my nipples, and that part of me is so much stronger than the part that wants to be free. So I continue playing with my breasts, tracing an intricate circular pattern that seems like it never moves over the same spot twice. I know that's not true, but I can't keep track of what my fingers are doing because I'm too distracted by the thrumming on my clit.
I can't get away from that buzzing tickle on my clit. It's not like the vibrator I usually use to get myself off; I don't feel anything inside my pussy at all. Instead, the little device rests up against my pussy, tucked gently between my labia, and I can feel something under its surface moving in a relentless circle right on my stiff and swollen clitoris. I feel it pulsing and throbbing and humming and fluttering, changing speed and direction from time to time so I can never quite tune out the sensation. It feels like a tongue, only better because it never stops. The pleasure never ends, the arousal never ceases. It feels so good that I want to grind myself against it until I cum, but my hips are no more under my control than any other part of me. My body is lost in a slow, drifting, endless bliss that feels somehow better than any single burst of orgasm possibly could. All I can do is sit there, unable to cum, trapped in a state of helpless passivity as a slow trickle of arousal leaks out of my slit to soak the chair underneath me.
The arousal is driving me insane. All I want to do now is cum. It's all I can think about as I sit in the chair and watch the circle trace itself over and over onto the screen. I imagine my fingers plunging into my snatch and pumping away, over and over until my cunt clenches down hard around my hand and my world dissolves into perfect bliss. I picture spreading my legs as far as I can and jamming the biggest vibrator I can find into my pussy, turning it up as far as it will go and letting the vibrations jackhammer my quim into one orgasm after another until I'm finally sated. I need to cum so bad now. I would do anything to cum, absolutely anything. The ache in my cunt is so bad now that I can't pay attention to anything else except the screen. Even the voice in my ears fades in and out of my consciousness as my body constantly distracts itself with pleasure. I'm too desperate for orgasm to concentrate on anything for more than a few seconds at a time.
