SENSORY DEPRIVATION OVERLOAD
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Sensory Overload free porn video
Sensory Overload Part 1 bhs 8/91 by Rebecca Scott
What Happened?
It was a Wednesday, or at least it was the day after our usual Tuesday
night card game with the Hinkels, a bizarre couple from next door. As
the alarm incessantly clamored for my attention, I groggily emerged from
the comfort of my bed, noting that my wife of more than 12 years was not
snuggled next to me as was our custom. As my feet hit the floor I
noticed that my body seemed to override my mind as I immediately
proceeded to open her lingerie drawer and selected a pair of black
bikini panties with lacy trim, a bra, a garter belt, and a pair of taupe
stockings from within.
Without any conscious recognition of what I was doing, I proceeded to
put on the garments I had selected. My conscious mind marveled at the
expertise at which my physical being successfully managed to properly
clothe my body in the foreign garments. I then proceeded to dress in my
"normal" business attire, shirt, tie, and suit and I left my home to
catch the 6:20 commuter train.
After an uneventful morning at the office, I received a most mysterious
phone call. A voice, clearly recognizable of that of my wife intoned,
"You are becoming the girl of your wildest fantasies...you will begin to
behave as the SLUT you have always fantasized during our love making."
Then an abrupt CLICK.
Disbelieving I continued my daily routine of mundane corporate paper
pushing, berating the office staff, and the standard mid-level
management behavior that characterized my position. At around 2:00 I
felt the need to urinate, and once again the force that controlled my
physical being took control and forced me into the ladies room wherein I
entered the stall, unzipped and lowered my trousers, slid down my
panties and sat to urinate. Upon completion of this task I straightened
my attire and started to leave as the door opened and my secretary
entered.
"Mr. Thomas!" she gasped.
"Sorry Marge," I meekly explained, "I guess that too many cocktails from
last nights poker party has disoriented me."
Blushing I exited the ladies room vowing to contact my physician or at
least a good psychiatrist. Mercifully 5:00 finally occurred and I
headed for the local watering hole to have a couple of quick ones before
the 6:09 was due to take me home. Angela, the well endowed and skimpily
dressed server brought my usual scotch on the rocks and much to my own
astonishment I found myself sending her back to the bar for a white wine
spritzer.
"Are you OK, Bill?" she questioned.
"Well I suppose that with the increased workload at the office and with
the 'help' of the incompetent cunts they have assigned to my project, I
guess I'm just not myself," I replied. Then from out of the blue I
found myself asking Angela if she had a spare Tampax I could borrow.
"Well I guess so," she replied, "but what are you going to do with it?"
"It's my time of the month," my mouth said as my brain rebelled, "and I
need to change the one I'm wearing."
With a puzzled look she proceeded to rummage around in her purse
producing the requested cylinder, handing it to me and snickered as she
went to wait on the less bizarre clientele. Once again my body took
control of my conscious mind and I found myself in the ladies room,
panties around my knees, inserting Angela's tampon in my rectum. The
Tampax expanded my sphincter with a most uncomfortable feeling, this
coupled with the unaccustomed feeling of the nylons, garter belt and
panties, proved most unsettling. Leaving the restroom, blessedly
unnoticed, I glanced at my watch and hurried for the train station to
seek refuge in the familiar safety of my home.
OVERLOAD.........Part II
Entering the front door, after a most unusual (to say the least) day,
Bill was greeted by Linda, his attractive and sensitive companion of
more that a dozen years. "Hi honey, you're home," she beamed.
"Damn right, I'm home and I want to know what is happening to me. I
wake up and rummage through your lingerie, put on an embarrassing set of
underwear, receive a mysterious phone call from you, use the ladies room
at work, and ask the cocktail waitress for a tampon which I presently
have uncomfortably wedged in my bum, all the while not being able to
control these urges."
"Wait just a minute," she stormed, "before you climb all over me! I
came back from my early morning jog to find my underwear drawer in
disarray, I haven't phoned you at your office today, or any other day
for that matter as you get so defensive when I 'meddle' in your
business. As for this aberrant behavior, I haven't a clue as to causes
or reasons. However I can relate to you that today, I too put on the
wrong underwear, finding myself in your boxers, sweat socks, and a torn
tee shirt and spent a good part of the day drinking beer and watching
the sports channel. I too found that I had minimal control over this
behavior. I can only surmise that this has something to do with the
'Special' homemade wine the Hinkel's served at last night's card game as
I felt very strange after the second glass. They are a weird couple,
perhaps they put LSD or PCP or God knows what in it just to see the
strange reactions of others."
"I'll go over there and straighten this out just as soon as I get rid of
these nylons and this bra and pull this infernal tampon from my ass.
Help me out of this get-up, find me some jeans, and get my baseball bat
from the closet."
Linda followed me into our bedroom and was just barely able to contain
herself as I removed my jacket, tie, shirt and trowsers to reveal her
sexiest lingerie underneath. "Not bad," she giggled, "perhaps we should
make it a regular part of your ensemble."
"Everyone's a fuckin' comedian," I commented, "help me unsnap this bra,
I've got to remove this tampon, it seems to have swollen up inside me."
"Of course silly, that's the whole idea," she informed me as she
unsnapped the lacy bra, "be careful to pull the string out gently or I
guess I'll have to dig it out with a fork."
"Ha, Ha, I'm just dying with amusement, but not nearly as much as Sam
Hinkel when the old hickory stick contacts his skull." With that I
moved to the bathroom, string dangling between my cheeks, to attend to a
most unpleasant duty.
After gently easing the offending cotton cylinder from my formerly
'virgin' orifice and dressing in my usual jeans and T-shirt, I proceeded
bat in hand to the Hinkel's residence. Arriving on their doorstep, I
noticed a small note taped to the door addressed to Linda and I.
Opening it I read:
Bill, by now you should have experienced the unique effects
of a little known herbal potion I ran across in the Far
East. I understand that the effects are transitory and
should wear off completely within 24 hours. Of course that
could be a lie as I've never tried it!! My wife and I will
be out of the country for 2 months travelling in Tibet.
When we get back we'll get together and have a good laugh.
P.S. Please don't smash my door with your baseball bat.
Furious I crumpled the note and savagely attacked his front door with
the bat. Storming into my home, I related the contents of the note to
Linda and proceeded to get very, very drunk. "At least that damn stuff
they gave us has worn off and life can return to normal," I commented
before I passed out on the couch.
The alarm again wakened me and as I rolled from bed I noticed something
was seriously not right. I was wearing my wife's baby doll nightgown
and matching panties. As if I were again possessed by that strange
overpowering grip on my psyche, I proceeded to once again extract a
complete set of feminine undergarments from Linda's drawer and was soon
wearing a beige underwire bra, beige satin panties, and beige sheer
pantyhose. I completed dressing in my normal business suit and headed
for the train station for my commute to the city for work. As I stood
in line at the newsstand prior to boarding the train I found myself
refusing my traditional Wall Street World, opting instead for the
current issue of 20 summer fashion makeovers. Boarding the train, I
took my usual seat and began perusing the publication, oblivious to the
snickers of my fellow commuters, who had noticed my unusual reading
material and the fact that I hade demurely crossed my legs exposing a
nylon clad ankle.
Arriving at the office I dove into my morning workload. About 10:00 my
secretary Marge reminded me of my usual 10:30 barbers appointment.
Without consciously realizing what I was doing I instructed her to
change the appointment to the adjoining beauty salon, placed my papers
in my briefcase, rushed out of my office past a mystified secretary and
took the elevator to the lobby where the salon and the boutiques were
located. Entering the salon I informed the girl at the counter that I
was Bill Thomas and that I had an appointment. Quizzically she
consulted her calender, noted my name and led me to a cubicle in the
front of the salon.
A tall attractive woman in a short leather skirt, brilliant red satin
blouse, black nylons and 4" heels entered, said she was Tanya and asked
what I wanted her to do. I opened my briefcase took out 20 Summer
Makeovers and pointed to a model with alluring evening-on-the-town make-
up; pouting red lips with matching 2" 'slut red'
Geraldine
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