Inescapable Pleasure

For once, the machine found some degree of mercy for me. All the settings seemed to settle to a safer mid-range, enough to torture my sensitive nerve endings but not so much that I couldn't breathe or think. Shaking with the intense release, and with the continued sensations on my inflamed clit, I straightened up enough to begin weakly fumbling with the combination lock. The act of sitting up settled my clit onto the sybian at a new angle, and I felt yet another aftershock jolt up my spine despite the overstimulation. I found I couldn't actually stop moaning as I began to attempt opening the lock. One more glance at the clock: 9:21. Not my best, but entirely respectable.

As always, I absolutely fouled up the combination the first time. Turning a dial to an exact number while you entire body shakes is extremely difficult, not to mention while you try and ignore your most sensitive parts crying out for mercy. With a deep, shuddering breath, I attempted to focus as hard as I could. Pressing the dial hard into the lock for stability, I began to turn it slowly and firmly from number to number. The first digit of the combination, then right twice fully. Second digit, then left once...

Tink.

At first, I didn't even understand what had happened. My left hand still held the back of the lock, and my right still firmly grasped the dial. What I couldn't comprehend was why there was suddenly about an inch of space between the two.

I had pressed hard enough to shear the dial completely off the cheap piece of garbage lock. All I could see sticking out from the lock was a tiny, flat piece of metal where the dial should have been attached.

Not since the first incident with the tub had I felt this sudden surge of deep, genuine panic. But unlike that first time, there was no following realization that my panic was undeserved. This time, as I stared at the ruined lock, the only conclusion was that I truly was trapped atop this cruel machine with a will of its own. And I had absolutely no idea how the hell I was going to escape.

And to punctuate the point, the sybian changed patterns once again. It began to repeatedly ramp up from 0 to 100% over the course of a few seconds, over and over.

The change in sensations, combined with the explosive rush of adrenaline that the broken lock had provoked, sent me spiralling into another massive orgasm that I was entirely unprepared for. I cried out, in a strange mix of surprise, terror, and absolute pleasure as my body clenched so hard around the dildo that I could feel its rotation slow. With my head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, my mind raced trying to figure out how to escape this trap I had designed so perfectly for myself. But my thoughts were like wet tissue paper in a storm, and I couldn't hold onto them long enough to form plans. Because at my core, this situation was exactly what I had always hoped for. Here I was, actually trapped against this machine like I had always fantasized about. I had no prepared avenue of escape, no guarantees that this would ever end. If I wanted to survive this, I would have to struggle against my own body to do it.

The idea set me on fire. Part of me was genuinely terrified, that I wouldn't be able to free myself. How long would I be here until someone found me? Nobody visited me, nobody called me. Would I even be able to survive? If I did... would I even still be sane by the time I was rescued? Even if I could free myself, how long would it take? Could I handle it? But somehow, every worry just sent a shock straight to my pussy. The idea of struggling for my life and sanity, the prospect of it being more than my mind could handle, leaving me a moaning ruin... even the fact that this was the dark consequences of my own desires somehow turned me on even more. This is what I had always wanted, and it turned me on so badly to get it.

Reality came back to me in the form of a powerful blast of vibration against my clit. As turned on as I was by my predicament, it didn't make my nerve endings any less sensitive. Gasping desperately, I tilted my hips back as far as I could to give my poor clit some degree of relief. Fortunately, the machine had lowered the intensity of the dildo's rotation for the moment which made this the easiest position on my body for now. While it still did insistently stir up my insides and hum against my clit, I found I could at least focus my thoughts somewhat now. Before I lost the opportunity, I needed to come up with some sort of a plan.

Looking around, I had apparently dropped the dial to the lock and it had rolled out of reach, so it wasn't worth thinking about any further. Reaching gingerly for the lock without leaning forward onto my inflamed clit, I tried to carefully grasp the tiny broken shaft with my fingernails. It became quickly clear that this was a dead end: not only could I not get any grip, I also would have no clue where to turn it to without the dial. Defeated, I dropped the lock against the steel rod. Refusing to give up, I began pulling against all of the cuffs with my full strength; while I had intended for them to be impossible to escape from, I had never been quite as motivated as I was now. Unfortunately, I had met my goals with too much success; the chains were thick, the floor brackets were insanely secure, and the cuffs themselves were too well made to be broken open. I had no leverage to wiggle out of even the ankle cuffs, let alone the thigh cuffs and the belt pinning my hips down.

If escape was impossible, then rescue would have to be the next angle. While anyone walking in on this would be incredibly embarrassing, it would still be better than the alternatives. Unfortunately, my phone was most certainly not accessible, and I had made a habit of disabling the voice assistants because I found them "creepy and intrusive". I scowled up at my phone, sitting smugly across the room recording my plight.

As hard as I was trying to focus, the machine had never truly stopped buzzing away between my legs. In fact, it had slowly lowered itself to the barest of activity, which had the dangerous effect of becoming slowly pleasurable again. So as I looked up at my useless phone, I felt a rush of warmth radiating from my pussy as I considered the video it would contain. All the genuine anguish and raw erotic pleasure I was experiencing, and it would all be there for me to experience again and again. How many times would I watch it, fucking myself to the display of my own helpless suffering? Maybe I'd even set up a screen down here, and watch it while riding the sybian. An endless feedback loop of helplessness and pleasure.

Delicately, I slowly shifted my hips forward. I couldn't help but wince slightly at the feeling of direct contact, even with the soft silicone, but the feeling of need was overcoming my ability to think and I couldn't keep my hips tilted away forever anyway. I'd just let myself enjoy the sensations for a bit, enough to satisfy my growing cravings until the machine ramped up again, and then I'd get back to work looking for an escape. Just a bit would be okay.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the clock. 9:33, a new record. I had also spent twelve minutes on the sybian after cumming, which was a definite record of its own. Despite the electricity that began moving up my spine, I focused my gaze directly on the camera of my phone. The sybian was behaving awfully well, gently pulsing and caressing my tender pussy inside and out. I found my hands beginning to roam my own body again, as pleasure overcame any other sensations of discomfort. Soft moans spilled out of me, teased out despite my situation. My mind began to wander into fantasy once more, tainted by the genuine danger I was in.

In my mind, I never escaped. In fantasy, free from mortal concerns, I was trapped here for the rest of my life. Day by day passed, week by week, year by year, and nobody ever came and found me. I spent hour after hour riding the waves and valleys of pleasure and suffering, losing all ability to think like a human. All I could do was endure as pleasure was wrung from my tortured body, until the only thing I could focus on was the anticipation of my next orgasm.

As my mind wandered, I stared straight at the phone. But not at the phone, past it. I stared at myself, the "me" that would one day be watching this video. She and I, we would lock eyes and share in this fantasy. Every time she watched this, she would remember how much we enjoyed this, enjoyed the rush and the fear and the helplessness. And in my heart, I knew even then, that I would be chasing this feeling for the rest of my life. That her and I, that the "future me" and the "me" trapped on this infernal toy, would only take this further once this was all over. That even if I did get myself free of this situation, I truly was trapped, by my own desires driving me back into riskier and more dangerous situations. I had been trapped ever I began exploring my own pleasure, and I loved it.

Unlike my earlier explosive orgasms, this one built with a powerful inevitability. As I embraced how dangerously addicted I was to all of this, and how much I loved the risk I had put myself in, my body simply unfolded. It started with my legs shaking violently, and I almost looked down to see what was going on but found myself unable to look away from the camera. I was locked in eye contact with the degenerate "me" of the future, the "me" that I was creating right now, and I couldn't tear my gaze away from who I was corrupting. The shaking rose up to my hips, forcing me to grind desperately against the vibrating base. I cried out as I aggressively rubbed my clit (which I had been trying so hard to protect) against the softly humming machine, blinking tears from my eyes at the intensity of the sensation. My hands flew to my breasts without my consent, rolling my nipples between my fingers as my entire body became ravenous for any pleasurable sensation it could experience. A storm of erotic energy played between my breasts and my clit, building up throughout my body. From my toes to my fingers, I had never felt more aware of my skin. The cool air of the basement whispered against my sweat-soaked skin, highlighting every drop as it rolled down my back and stomach.

And then the machine roared into high gear, and I screamed.

I wasn't prepared, and I don't think I could have been prepared. It ripped the orgasm from me, without mercy, from the very bottom of my soul. My entire body locked up, every muscle tensing, which only served to seal my pussy as firmly down onto the sybian as I possibly could. For what felt like an eternity, I screamed as my entire body flooded with aggressive release. I actually seemed to completely disconnect from my body; for a moment, it felt like I was merely witnessing this as something just happening to my body, rather than actually experiencing it. And in that moment, "observing" myself... I felt beautiful. The pleasure pulled me taut, laid me bare and exposed, and I felt like the best version of myself that had ever existed. As if I lived only to reach this state. Tears flowed freely from my eyes, slammed shut as it all became incredibly overwhelming, and my awareness seemed to be sucked back into my body with immense force.

I couldn't breathe. The machine wasn't slowing down, but I couldn't handle anymore. Screams gave way to weak moans and feeble hyperventilation, struggling to draw any air into my lungs that I could. The orgasm wasn't ending, even as my nerves cried out for mercy. I couldn't pull back, couldn't soften the effects, as my legs had locked up entirely around the sybian. All I could do was wait, either for the machine to slow or for my muscles to fail.

Time seemed to lose all meaning. All those days in the gym had given my legs dangerous resilience, and the machine seemed fixated only on the highest settings. Any slight dip in intensity only heralded another long spike, redoubling the tension in my thighs. Leaning backwards pressed the dildo insistently against my g-spot, sending me into uncontrollable full body spasms. Leaning forward ground my tortured clit into the madly buzzing machine, causing my body to tighten even more than it already was. All I could do to withstand it was to try and hold myself perfectly upright, gripping the chains on either side of me to stay steady despite feeling increasingly lightheaded. I had to will myself to breathe, forcing myself between long involuntary moans. Holding myself rigidly, I actually passed out for a few seconds, only for the swirling combinations of rolling orgasms and intense torment to snap me back into focus.

And then, peace. Abruptly, the machine dropped to a low purr, the dildo barely moving. All at once, my legs unlocked and I slumped forward in a heap. My clit protested weakly at the contact, pulling a groan from me, but I was too exhausted to do much about it. I lay there for a while, just taking the opportunity to catch my breath and clear my mind while I could. I wasn't sure how long I had before the assault continued, but I knew I wouldn't survive if I didn't take this chance to recover.

When I finally sat up, shaking the hair dripping with sweat from my eyes, I looked to the clock once more: 10:04. I had been on this machine for almost an hour and a half, half of that time being against my intentions. My body felt exhausted, and my mind was sluggish. If I didn't figure something out soon, I genuinely didn't know if I would ever have the coherency to.

A warning sounded, from the back of my mind. Beneath my legs, the machine had taken on a particular rhythm to its pulsing, even at the lowest intensity. Brr-brr-brrr, brr-brr-brrr, over and over. A shiver ran down my spine, realizing what that meant.

I didn't recognize every pattern the control box had, but I absolutely recognized this one. It was the only one I had a name for: the Big Bang. Over ten minutes, it would slowly build from 0% to about 80% intensity, then silence for 1 minute. And then it would blast full power, for ten straight minutes.

I recognized it because I considered it the "final boss" of the machine, and had never come close to enduring it. The slow ten minute build was a delicious edge, which would always send me over as soon as it went into full power. I would try and hold out, but would inevitably be left scrambling to open the lock in under a minute, and had never withstood the full pattern. Except now, I had no escape. If I didn't get free soon, I would be forced to experience the entire thing. And I knew that there was no way I could withstand ten minutes on full power in my current state.

Real panic set in. 10:06, two minutes gone just spent contemplating the future. I frantically pulled at the chains again, but the last onslaught left me even weaker than I was the first time I tried and failed. 10:08. I grabbed the lock with both hands, shaking it with whatever might I could muster. It did nothing. 10:09, the sensation began to become truly distracting. Holding the lock for leverage, I tried to pull myself up as far off the machine as I could, but my legs provided no meaningful assistance. They gave loose, dropping me back into the sybian with force. I cry out. 10:10, 4 minutes left.

Looking up at the phone, I lose my cool. "You did this! You did this to me!" I'm screaming at myself, a future "me" that I'm not even sure will exist at this point. Maybe I'll never get free, never have the chance to watch the video. So who am I yelling at? In my heart, I still have hope that I'll make it out of this. 10:12, my clit is on fire but I lack the strength to do anything about it. I try to sob, but only moans come out: even as brutalized as I am, the dark part of me still finds pleasure in all this. It's the most resilient part of me, the only part that won't break.

The only part that won't break.

An idea forms, the last chance I'll have. If this doesn't work, there won't be enough left of me to try anything else. I look up at the clock, 10:13. Now or never. I take deep breaths while I can, trying to ignore the protestations between my legs. They're about to suffer a lot worse, so there's no sense in babying them now.

10:14. The machine goes completely quiet.

With one last breath, I reach down to spread my pussy lips apart and lean forward, mashing my clit directly against the machine. Even just touching it causes me to scream, but there's no time to suffer. Bending forward with all my weight, I grab the lock in both hands with the tightest grip I can manage, and close my eyes.

10:15. The machine attacks.

It's not even pleasure at this point, just raw sensation. My body jerks hard as the vibrations begins, but I muster all my will and keep my pussy pressed down against the machine. The screams flow freely, and I don't try and stop them.

My entire body begins to shake, sliding my exposed clit back and forth across the slick ridges of the machine. I lose the ability to even scream, as my body perversely embraces the sensation. My exhausted legs begin to tense, and I try to brace for what comes next.

As before, my legs lock up around the machine. I moan weakly as my body betrays all good sense, forcing me to withstand the maximum intensity. Every instinct in me tries to force me upright, to take the pressure off my clit, but I ignore it. Good sense didn't get me into this situation, and it wasn't going to get me out of it. I clutch the lock as if it were a lifeline, feeling my body respond to the brutality in the only way it seemed to know how.

This orgasm was different than any I had experienced before, more primal and powerful. It felt less like pleasure, and more like an explosion of light behind my eyes. The intensity of it scared me, but there was no other option but to ride the wave. Moans gave way to silent screams, as my body turned itself entirely over to this one release.

The dildo hammering my G-spot seemed to obliterate some barrier in my mind, and my pussy began slowly gushing all over the sybian. I could feel a thick cream lathering up between my body and the machine, sliding down my thighs and up around my clit. As tightly as I held myself down, it still worked its way between me and the machine, and I felt my clit sliding wetly against the endlessly vibrating surface. And despite everything, amidst the torture of my raw nerves, something truly pleasurable began to stir in my mind.

I redoubled my grip around the lock, fighting to stay conscious. What came next came last, one way or another. If I passed out now, I'd lose my opportunity and I wouldn't get another. I looked up one last time at the camera, tears and sweat dripping down my face, and dug deep into the darkest parts of my mind.

I imagined myself watching myself, watching myself literally come apart. I imagined my horror at finding it erotic, even as I touched myself to it. At first I'd resist, I'd tell myself that I should never do this again and that I should be ashamed for watching... but my fingers would still be dancing across my clit. I'd tell myself I had to delete the video, to remove the temptation... but my fingers would find their way into my dripping pussy, slamming in and out. And as my shame at being a slave to my own sexual needs would rise to a peak, I'd look at the video and see my face as it was right this moment, pushed far past the brink of sanity and decency. And I would envy myself for being so dominated by my own needs, and I would cum hard dreaming of how to reach those destructive lows once again.

It was as if I could feel my mind snapping. The physical sensation of orgasm hadn't stopped since the machine had kicked into high gear, but this was a full body embrace of it. My body ceased to obey me, and my back arched in a full body spasm, head whipping back as I screamed in the most self destructive pleasure I had ever experienced.