A short bit of erotica about a CRT girl.
Content warning: sex, dissociation, some soft D/s, magnets
~ ~ ~ ~
“Are you ready?”
The scanlines over my cheeks glow red, cold CRT light diffusing softly into the acrylic panels on her bedroom ceiling.
“If we need to stop, just tell me, okay? Is this what you want?” In her rubber hand she holds a yellow wand, the front few inches of hard plastic wrapped around a black, rectangular ferroprism. The magnet hovers just far enough over my head to prevent any reaction, but even at that distance, I can feel it even with my eyes closed, dulling, warping my thoughts.
I’m laying on her bed, too small for both of us, naked from the shoulders down. There’s a pink collar with two straps securing me to the bed, just tight enough to lower the contrast of my screen. I’m not hard, but a spot about an inch above my cock feels like it’s being pumped full of sticky, electric anticipation.
“I want it…” I admit demurely, refresh rate jittering. “…please?”
“Then… take it~”
Her smile is the last undistorted thing I see before she lowers the rod.
My face flows along the lines of the vector field, pressure deforming and irradiating my thoughts. A ring of multicolored light bursts across my vision, hot spectra before my glass.
“Nnh… w… wh…mm…” Words try and fail to form, gaping holes in their center.
“Empty… that’s all you have to be… it’s so hard to even keep your face still, isn’t it? Just let it bend. Doesn’t it feel better to see all these lovely colors erasing everything else?” More encouragement, muffled like through a low-pass filter.
Can’t move, can only be moved. Sliding up along to the top edge of the glass, its curve near the plastic warping my vision even more until all I see are high-voltage rainbows.
And then black.
Empty but for a prismatic moonlike sliver, rippling with a spectrograph of words no longer audible.
Losing a body feels incredible, hypoxia or transformed circuits radiating numbness. Somewhere far beyond my senses, my body starts to cum. My cock and my breasts still dutifully responding to stimuli like they were trained to, a pair of perfect, anhedonic automata. I was probably being called a good girl, somewhere. None of that was here, though. Here was the twisting, RGB blackness that stretched off forever, tearing my mind open and letting it leak out. Nothing hurts that doesn’t exist. Please stay like this forever. please stay empty forever; please;;
The shaking finally stops.
“…did so well…proud…”
Once I’m back to somewhere around 45 Hz, the grainy fog of the room starts to settle.
“How was that, did you enjoy that?”
Firm, solid ground. The surreal physicality of space. I give a silent nod and stare up at the ceiling until she finally falls asleep curled up around me.