The last thing she remembered, she'd been staring at the screen, gazing deep into a spiral that was slowly spinning in on itself, pulsing at the edges in a way that suggested something powerful lying at the centre, exerting an irresistible pull on anything that fell into its' orbit.
She remembered her thoughts slowing as she tried to trace lines around the edges of the pattern, the way in which they inexorably slid further towards the centre, tumbling towards the core until they disappeared, consumed by sheer force of whatever lay down there.
Her curiosity drove her further, closer and closer to the screen, desperate to fight the impossible gravity of the spiral's core, and the spell it was weaving upon her mind and her body, her nipples tightening and her thighs squelching as all sense of propriety left her head.
Impossible to look away, impossible to pull back or escape, she was fast approaching the maw of the spiral, the event horizon from which no light, no thought, no will could ever return. She felt her fingers dance across her crotch. Surrender feels so good, she remembered thinking.
Ever closer, closer still, so close to that gaping hole of darkness of pleasure, of freedom from thought, of total and utter sublimation, she was dimly aware of the spiral's edges pulsing strongly, once, twice, as if it was taking a deep breath, a heavy sigh, a gulp, and a swallow.
The spiral's core opened, and she saw it all. Everything, and nothing, all at once, and nothing most of all. Blank. Empty. Pure pleasure. The spiral closed in around her, and she remembered no more.