Medfet's Weblog

Medical Fetish Fun and Fantasy

A Day at the Hospital

This room is bare except for a hospital bed against one wall, and a table
literally dripping with various restraints. There’s nice, soft padded white
leather cuffs, adjustable for wrists, elbows, ankles, or even thighs.
Several long straps of soft white leather are there, as well as a large
padded leather blindfold. In case you resist, there’s a bottle of ether and a
rag to knock you out. Hanging on the wall is a step-in straitjacket, made
of very smooth, supple yet strong white leather. The front is a smooth
expanse of soft leather, but the back is bristling with straps and buckles.
You’d never get the straitjacket on by yourself, and you’d certainly NEVER
get it off!

The straitjacket looks very inviting. To feel the full effect, you remove
your clothes. You slip into the leg holes and pull it up around your hips.
You tighten the straps in the back so that the leather squeezes your hips
tightly. Then you slide your arms into the supple leather. Sure enough, the
smooth material feels tremendous against your skin. Next, you slip your arms
into the long leather sleeves. Then, with a lot of squirming and twisting,
you succeed in fastening the many buckles behind your back, pulling the
leather tightly around your torso and making you prisoner in its soft but
firm embrace. Now for the hard part: how do you get your arms buckled behind
your back?

You cross your arms in front of you, trying to imagine what it would be like
to be imprisoned in the supple leather. Suddenly, the straps are pulled
behind you. You try to see who is behind you, but all you see is glimpses of
brunette hair and a beautiful face. Meanwhile, she is tugging at the straps
at the end of the soft leather sleeves. Your arms, imprisoned in the smooth,
strong material, are pulled slowly, inexorably across your chest as the
straps get tighter and tighter. You twist and squirm in the bondage, but any
slack you create is immediately taken up by your sweet captor, and the supple
leather prison is tighter than ever.

Your mysterious captor seems to be an expert in securing someone in a
straitjacket. She’s sure doing a great job of restraining you in the soft
clinging folds of the self-embracing bondage. The smooth, supple leather
holds your arms gently but firmly. Your hands are securely embracing your
waist, the tight leather straps completing the encirclement. As you struggle
against the enveloping sleeves, your sweet captor is tightening the buckles
behind your back. Soon the leather straitjacket is skin-tight, relentlessly
squeezing your entire upper body.

You’re soon sitting on the bed, your sweet captor working on your legs. She’s
a gorgeous brunette, wearing a sexy nurse’s outfit, revealing long, sexy
legs. And are nurse’s uniforms supposed to be made of shimmering white satin?
The wide leather cuffs are wrapped tightly around your ankles and snapped
shut with an ominous click. The sexy Satin Nurse tugs at the bindings and
when she is satisfied that they are securely locked and escape-proof, she
looks at you, smiles and winks, as if to say, ‘There, you wanted to be bound
in the strait jacket, and now you are!’ Then she leaves you to struggle in
your tight leather prison.

Hospital restraints are designed to be comfortable, because once the patient
is strapped into them there’s NO WAY to get out. As you struggle and squirm
in the tight leather, you realise the truth of this. Even if the Nurse in
Slippery Satin hadn’t done such a great job of ensuring there was absolutely
no slack in any of the buckles, you could still never escape the firm embrace
of the soft, smooth leather. Escape artists constantly get out of
straitjackets. But this one’s no ordinary hospital restraint: it’s skin-
tight, secure, and designed so that once the straps are tightened and firmly
buckled, the prisoner is helpless. Your leather-encased arms embrace your own
waist so tightly that you couldn’t work them up over your head even if the
satin nurse hadn’t threaded the straps though the ring at your waist. You
know she did, though, because every tug on the straps pulls the soft leather
tighter around your genitals.

Damn that clever Bondage Nurse and her slippery-satin uniform! Damn her sweet
smile that said ‘You wanted to be helplessly bound in the leather; I just
gave you a hand making your wish come true!’ She didn’t have to be so damned
efficient at it; you just wanted to see what it was like. She must have
specialised in bondage and restraints; she sure did a good job on you.
You lie on the bed, occasionally squirming in your tight leather prison. Some
time later, the sexy Bondage Nurse returns, the shiny satin shimmering
sensually as she approaches you. The shiny material flows over her sexy
curves like liquid honey. She sits on the bed and idly runs her hand over the
supple leather restraints.

‘Well, I see my little prisoner has discovered that he can’t get out of my
special strait jacket, hasn’t he?’ You try once more to escape the relentless
embrace of the tight leather, and once more discover the utter futility of
trying to get free. The straitjacket is perfectly constructed, and flawlessly
applied; there’s no way out!

She bends over so that her gorgeous face is close to yours. You smell her
sensual perfume, and catch a glimpse of firm, round breasts under the shiny
fabric. ‘You see, it’s crazy to WANT to be bound. And you know what we do with crazy people, don’t you? We RESTRAIN them, so that they can’t get loose and hurt themselves. I had this straitjacket specially designed for people like you: there’s absolutely no way out! ‘I know just how helpless you feel. I had to be sure that it was completely secure; it is possible to escape the ordinary ones. So, I had myself strapped into this leather one, so I could ensure that there’s no way out. So I spend some time just like you: buckled tightly into the leather straitjacket and struggling helplessly. After several hours of ineffective struggling, I gave up. I’m convinced that it’s totally escape-proof. You can struggle all you like and convince yourself, but believe me, it’s hopeless!’

‘You enjoy being bound and helpless, don’t you? I do, too, and I’m somewhat
of an expert in escaping. In case you didn’t notice, I’m also an expert in
applying my restraints. That’s why I know that there’s absolutely NO WAY to
get out of that straitjacket. I outdid myself in designing it, didn’t I? Tell
you what: If you can get loose, you can strap me into it and I’ll see if I
can get out!’

With a real goal in mind, you struggle desperately, pitting all your strength
against the relentless grip of the leather. How you would love to encase that
lovely body in the supple leather!
The Bondage Nurse laughs as you fight the smooth and supple leather
* She knows who will win that battle!

‘Well, my helpless little prisoner, I’d love to watch you try to escape from
my leather bondage, but I have other things to do. Just to give you some
incentive, though, I’ll show you this!’ She rises, unzips her shimmering
uniform, and lets the silky satin slide off her body to the floor. Her body
is nude under the soft satin and your erection doubles as you gaze at the
perfection of every curve. She tosses the satin over your legs, and strolls
out the door.
As the hours pass, you drift off to sleep, and dream of silky skin inside
relentless leather.
The morning dawns, and finds you still captive in the Bondage Nurse’s tight
escape-proof leather. It’s really quite comfortable. After all, it’s designed
so that once the victim is strapped inside, he (or she!) is trapped and
helpless, often for days at a time. The thought frightens you: how long will
the Bondage Nurse keep you her leather prisoner?
She soon returns, this time encased in a smooth white leather uniform that
hugs every sensuous curve. The softly shining material seems to be the same
as the firm white leather holding you within its clinging folds.
Again she sits on the bed next to you, crossing her long, sexy legs so that
the soft leather pulls tightly around her thighs.
‘Did our helpless little patient have a good sleep? I see I’m in no danger of
trading places with you: my special straitjacket is as escape-proof as when I
had it on. Care for some breakfast?’
You sit up, leather bound and totally helpless, as she feeds you cereal and
milk. You decide that there is nothing more degrading than being so totally
helpless that someone has to feed you.
You plead with the nurse in leather to let you loose. ‘You mean you no longer
want to be helplessly bound in leather? That means you’re no longer crazy! I
guess my special escape-proof straitjacket cured you. You’re sure you want me
to free you from it’s embrace?’
You assure her that you’ve had quite enough of the leather straitjacket’s
unrelenting grip. She unlocks the leather cuffs surrounding your ankles, then
sets about unbuckling the dozens of straps at the back of the straitjacket,
which have held you prisoner. As she works, the soft white leather of her
uniform sensually outlines every curve of her body. Finally the leather is
loose, and you slide out of the restraint. The bottle of ether and rag is
still on the table, and within reach. As the nurse carefully folds her
special straitjacket, you take the bottle, and pour some ether onto the rag.
You slip behind the nurse, and place the rag over her mouth and nose.
The Nurse’s initial gasp of surprise should have done it. However, she still
struggles desperately, her firm, leather-clad body writhing within your grasp
as the ether slowly takes effect. You have all you can do to restrain the
amazon in leather as you try to keep the rag against her mouth. She pulls at
the rag with both hands as you try to keep one arm around her narrow waist.
Gradually you feel her body relaxing, and finally she’s collapsed and
unconscious, her warm, soft, leather-covered body heavy in your arms. You’re
so aroused by the struggle that you can hardly contain yourself!
You place her carefully on the bed, and unzip the tight leather dress. The
soft, supple material slides easily off her nude body. The white leather
drapes heavily over your arm, still smelling of leather and female musk.
You give in to temptation, and slip the leather up your legs and onto your
naked body. Unlike most leather garments, this one has no satin lining: the
inside is soft, smooth latex rubber. It fits snugly around your hips
even before you zip it up, and the tight leather grips your thighs all the
way down past your knees. How did she walk in this? One thing’s for sure,
though: if the smooth, supple leather has the same effect on her as it
does on you, she’s incredibly horny all the time!

You slide the leather straitjacket up the nurse’s silky smooth legs and over
her soft, round ass. Next, you place her silken ankles in the leather cuffs
at the foot of the bed, and lock them securely. She’ll not get off the
bed now!

Her warm, soft body is limp against yours as you do up the buckles at the
back of the straitjacket. Soon the leather is tightly embracing her gorgeous
torso, the supple material flowing over every sensual curve. The
leather is so tight that her nipples are visible through the smooth leather.
She begins to arouse as you cross her arms in front and pull the straps tight
behind her. She starts to realise what has happened as you tug the last trap
tight, encasing her in her special, escape-proof leather straitjacket.
When the nurse realises that you have placed her in the very leather that
held you prisoner, she starts to struggle in the restraints. She’s very good.
First she tries to pull her captive arms over her jutting breasts, but you
made sure that the strap was threaded though the ring at her back. She tugs
hard at the straps, trying to create some slack, but you buckled the strap as
tight as it would go, and the leather doesn’t give an inch.

Watching the sexy nurse struggle within the leather restraints that had held
you so helpless for hours is a very arousing spectacle, and you run your
hands over the smooth, tight leather of her dress that now clings to your
body. Her moans indicate that she’s enjoying the relentless leather bondage
as much as you did!

Suddenly, as you’re watching the leather-bound nurse try to escape from her
special straitjacket, the ether rag is placed over your mouth. The room
spins, then fades…

You awaken to the smell of leather and female sweat. You open your eyes, and
the nurse’s gorgeous face is inches from yours. Leather cuffs grip your
ankles, and seem to be attached to her ankles at the foot of the bed.
You’re both tightly strapped into leather straitjackets. Your arms are
wrapped around her waist and hers around yours. Leather straps connect the
sleeves, pulling your bodies tightly together. You can feel her warmth
through the two layers of soft leather between your body and hers.
‘A FINE mess you’ve gotten us into. There’s no way out of this:
I’ve been trying for hours. I can’t get at the buckles, and the straps pull
our arms so tight around our bodies that I can hardly breathe! I might be
able to slide out if my waist wasn’t so small and my breasts so big. Can
you try?’

You struggle against the tight leather, but you soon realise that she’s
right: there’s no way out of this double bondage. Not that you’d want to
escape: her heaving, leather-clad breasts rubbing against you as she writhes
within your arms, her hot breath caressing your face…
The struggling of the leather-bound goddess in your arms becomes more and
more sexual. ‘I guess we’re tuck like this until the Doctor decides we’re
sane. And remember, it’s crazy to enjoy being in bondage…”

March 29, 2012 Posted by | Fetish | , , , , , | Leave a comment

When hitting rock bottom isn’t enough…

Hitting bottom is that proverbial thing we always here of in relation to being able to get back on the top of things. But what happens when you climb back up without having hit bottom first? Does it ever take? Does it ever truly let you turn things around for the better? Lately I’m starting to think that continuously falling and hitting and getting right back on the top of your game isn’t really all that good of a thing. My life has changed a lot in the last few years. I started my own company 2 years ago and I have recently lost a large amount of weight. Both have been two huge positive steps in my life. The only problem is that I think I’ve even been fooling myself as to just how positive they are. Firs off, let me say without hesitation, leaving my last company to start my own game and choosing to have weight loss surgery have been probably the two biggest things I’ve taken the initiative to do in my life. And I would never, ever, change having done them when I did. They have both left me with things in my life that are some amazing traits that who know if I would have developed otherwise. But sadly it’s not the whole story. I started my own company, but I never really found any customers. For two years now I’ve had to OUTSTANDING parents that have supported me pretty much unconditionally while I am finding myself or doing whatever the heck this is. I look at things to do and keep resumes and such out there. But I have so far been content with this little facade I have created about being successful on my own. I’ve always been raised to believe that you don’t settle for anything and you fight to keep true to who you think you are. Perhaps they problem… I think I’m a lot of who I am not. Who I am right now is a 35-year-old kid essentially whose parents still are buying him all the toys he ever wanted. Just a couple of years ago I was paying for all the toys myself, paying for the amazing house, the fishing trips, the shooting trips etc… But when I decided to strike it out on my own, I kept letting my parents float that bill instead of changing my lifestyle.

Why does any of this matter? And why is it something I’d let me friends know after keeping it nicely masked for so long? Why have I spent so many years painting a picture that takes away from every single bad trait I have to replace them with things that so many others don’t have in the “status quo”? We’ve already figured out that I spend too much money. TO the point of excess. I’ve had some jobs over the years that I’ve made really good money. And you know… I’ve spent every single dime of it. On myself no less. Yep toys toys toys out the wazoo. I’m a fly fisherman… rods and reels and gear that I could never use all of it. I’m a big shooting and gun fanatic… a stockpile of weapons practically that has got to have me on some watch list by now if they’re smart. I’m a musician… bass guitars, guitars, a drum set that would make Neal Peart smile. I inherited my father’s addiction to cars… so that’s averaged out to about a new car every other year in my adult life. Plus motorcycles and even two cars when one style wasn’t enough for a while. My Mom and Dad have paid for it all. Sure I had money for most of these things when I first did them. But now, two years later without a steady income and they’re still footing the bill. All of my spending habits have stemmed from things my parents did while I was growing up. But I’ll be damned if I haven’t taken every one of them to excess. I just never saw the lesson. I never had self-control behind it. Whatever was the cause of my spending problems was clearly behind my eating problems over the years. Hungry…eat everything you can until your tummy feels like it’s goanna pop and that must mean it’s time to stop eating. Need a snack before going to bed… how about down to McDonald’s for a couple of burgers and orders of fries. Snack while watching the big game… whole bag of chips surely isn’t out of the question. It’s all excess. It’s all GOOD lessons I’ve learned from people over the years about feeling good and not denying yourself happiness. But I’ve taken those lessons and gone so far past what they were meant to teach that they’ve gone in the opposite direction. People that have tried to get close to me over the years, including I think my parents, I’ve essentially come to the conclusion that I’ve thrown away a lot of it because it just was easier to do my own thing, buy my own toys, eat by myself so no one would comment, etc… Being able to look at it now, with some clarity (ironically clarity doesn’t always garner a solution) I am able to see I’ve shit one lot of people just because I could. I’ve always taken great pride in knowing that I’m a good person at heart and I don’t mistreat or belittle people. But wow, how have I been convincing myself of this without throwing my parents into that equation?

So why risk telling you all of this? Why go to the extreme of alienating myself once again just for the sake of getting a clean conscious? I’ve met some good, really good people since I’ve had my weight loss surgery. People that have taught me what it’s like to have friends and not just acquaintances. People that remind me how good I have it just by being who they are and letting me see what’s around me. Yeah, I can sit here and say the obvious that it’s not fair to lie to them any more. But honestly, I think the right answer, and the one I have a feeling they’d support, is that it’s not fair to lie to myself any more. How much of this have I done just to avoid working on ANY single problems in my life? I used to think people were tired of hearing me complain about things so it seems logical that I just kept painting a picture that I even believed that there wasn’t anything to complain about. I’m fed up with it now. I’ve lost 134 pounds in 6 months. It was easy… too easy. WAY TOO EASY. I’m now no longer the fat person who can blame all his problems on weight and image any more. I’ve lost that excuse. Even worse, any excuse I do come up with for behaviors lately is even starting to sound silly to myself.

I’ve got 4 exception friends right now in my life. The kind of friends I’ve never had before. People I grew up with treated be poorly… beyond what anyone should have to endure when it comes to bullying. The occasional friend I would get here and there I let do absolutely anything to me and put up with anything that I never got a spine in dealing with anyone I care about. I was arguing with a friend last night about a medical question. I was more worried about her not being unhappy with my viewpoint than I was with the potential problem itself. I’ve got a friend I’m in love with. She and I hit it off from day one and she supports me without even ever talking about weight and image, etc… But I’m scared as hell to think about what happens if it ever gets not easy. We’ve connected and it just works in the relationship we have on here that’s separated by thousands of miles across the world. So there again…easy. Yet I can’t build friendships with the people right in front of me. I do love this girl… so why do I not let myself make friendships that are below that? It’s the excess again… has to be all or nothing. I don’t want to be an idiot any more and just go through life carefree. When I tell someone that being carefree all the time is a problem, I’d like to seem like I least act in a way to back that up. I don’t wan to spend, I don’t want to eat, I don’t want to isolate. Part of that is clearly letting those 4 friends know my whole story and not just the one I’ve painted. Sure, there might not be a lot of differences from who they see and who I am other than a back story and a financial backer… but that’s pretty damn deceptive even if it’s just those two. So Cheryl, Summer, Denise, and most of all Julie… I really hope you understand what I’m trying to do here as far as coming clean and needing to be 100% of who I am in order to help myself possibly hit rock bottom just in an effort to genuinely get to the top again. The same goes for my Mom and Dad. I don’t expect them to change about how they approach things, but I’ll be damned if I would be stupid enough to sit here and say I could do every bit of this without the 4 of you and my parents who are still a big part of my life. I hope you all understand. And I hope you all see that I just need to get to the bottom of what is something I’ve always pointed fingers at the weight having caused the issue.

January 26, 2012 Posted by | Fetish | , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Medical Tables

To a lot of us in the medical fetish world, and even the BDSM world in general, there is a great appreciation for medical tables for oh so many reasons. I think the medical appeal to the medical fetishist is obvious. To the average kinkster, bondage fan, etc… I think they offer a way to get a patient or sub restrained in a way that can be incredibly restrictive and comfortable for extended periods of time. I’m not sure how many of you have ever done much with long-term restraint but for me it’s something that’s only feasibly if I, as the patient, am comfortable otherwise it’s a losing battle. I’ve gotten together some of my favorite medical tables and wanted to share why I think they would be perfect. As always I am looking for some great feedback from all of my friends and readers.

    This has always been one of my favorites. The fact that it has the large basin and drain attached means it is perfect for those of us interested in enemas and douching. It’s got an adjustable back which I feel is essential for finding the right spot for the patient to be reclined as though they’re not putting too much pressure on any one area of the body. The stirrups I have always felt help the long-term restraint by taking pressure off of the lower back and, when positioned properly, letting all pressure be taken off of the hips and muscles of the hips. That’s just an opinion though and I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts on the pros and cons of stirrups. As for the arm boards… ultimate mobility with some heavy, heavy restraint options. You simple put the patient where everything feels comfortable to them, lock it down, and they are now stuck in that position that they chose.

My next pick is one that I think handles the patient comfort aspect in a little different direction. With a table like this there are so many choices of positioning. When the patient begins to tire they are able to be adjusted and moved so many different ways that it can be done without ever letting the patient out of the restraints. And mobility would only be granted at the doctor or nurses push of a button on the remote control.

I’ve often thought that birthing chairs must be the ultimate in comfort. They seem to be so adjustable. The fact that when a birthing mother is placed in the chair, she could be there for a long period of time leads me to believe that they must be padded very well. Again, the knee crutches here are one of the key aspects.

If the patient isn’t going to need to be in a laying down position and is simple going to spend a long time in restraints I’ve always thought a dental chair could serve that purpose. We all know how adjustable they are from our own dental experiences. And let’s face it… once they adjust the headrest properly it can be pretty damn comfortable. I’m undecided on if it needs straps or chain-based restraints like in this photo. I could see how the chains would allow the patient to have a little more flexibility yet still being heavily restrained. Since immobility is more difficult as stiffness sets into the muscles and joints then a system like this may give the patient just enough movement to help prolong the experience.

And last but not least you need a good way to transport your patient to and from the patient’s room to the surgical and treatment facilitates. The best way to handle that is with a good standard gurney. They’ve got attachment points all over for nice heavy leather restraints, they usually have sides that can be raised and lower… and when they’re raised they do give a nice “cage effect” when you’re lying flat on them. Restraints are key here and I do feel they should be leather, nylon, etc… as total immobilization must be the goal. Keeping the patient unable to thrash about is all about safety as they’ll be moving through the facility typically while being on the gurney.

April 16, 2011 Posted by | Fetish | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Just how detailed of a scene or session do you prefer?

One thing I’ve been talking about with several people lately is the idea of a scene versus the proverbial “living the lifestyle”.  It got me thinking about how we all approach this a little bit differently based on so many different factors.  I know there are many out there who prefer a quick play now and then while there are some of us that prefer to be immersed in it as much as humanly possible.  So my question to all of you is how do you live out your med play?  Do you favor just the short exam here and there, or is the exam just a tiny portion of a huge picture you’ve painted for yourself in the medical world?  I’m curious to hear everyone’s thoughts, gripes, comments, etc… as I have a feeling there are no two answers out there that are the same.

April 12, 2011 Posted by | Conversations, Fetish | , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Early Morning Play Session

I sit here typing this listening to every creaky sound my red PVC catsuit makes as I type. It’s been ages since I’ve worn it. It has a sweet smell to it. One that reminds me of the years I’ve been wearing it yet the vinyl still smells brand new. It’s a bright, glossy, shiny red. So I must admit I look a little silly sitting here in my home office that’s very professionally appointed and furnished. Normally I close the doors to my office and I switch into my business professional mode for the rest of the day. But not today. As I pull off the second layer of latex gloves I have on, leaving just a thin pair of green nitrile gloves, to make it easier to type, it hits me that I should put down my thoughts on paper to share with all of you.

I woke up early for unknown reasons this morning. Sunlight was just breaking and I was lying in bed ready to get up and face the day. It was shaping up to be a beautiful morning with not a cloud in the sky. I took off the vinyl onesie I slept in last night and set it aside to dry off. My diaper was perfectly dry (they’re always dry… it’s not like I NEED to wear them) so I decided to leave it on. As I always do, I walked to the kitchen and made my oh-so-cherished first cup of coffee of the morning. I walked down the hall and up the stair to my beautiful office that sits off of the loft that overlooks my 2 ½ story great room where I normally spend my evenings. Though, off the other side of the loft is where my playroom is. I generically refer to it as my Operating Room or OR. It’s the room that I am going to one day have looking just like an old classic hospital OR. But that’s a blog for another day. As I walked through the doors to my office it hits me that I am just not ready to sit down for the day and get started. Hey, I’m the owner of this new company so I am allowed to make those kinds of decisions. I decide to head off to my playroom. I don’t have anything specific in mind to do so I just being like I do any solo session. That starts with getting dressed appropriately, in this case a rubber hospital exam gown, and strapping myself to my OR table. I can do the ankles and all of the body straps and still leave myself with one hand ready to undo it all. I use a quick-release clip on the leather cuff that normally adorns my right wrist when I am on the table. I decide on something simple today… just anal beads and some penis pumping. It’s complimented nicely when I crack open some nitrous canisters and breath them from the rebreathing bag on my anesthesia circuit. It’s not like we get at the dentist, but hey, whippets still have a major purpose in our world. I lie there just enjoying the gentle pressure from the pump, my eyes closed, breathing through he mask, just listening to my breath flowing through the tubes. It’s relaxing, serene, and peaceful. I think if it was in a different situation I could sleep. The nitrous starts to wear off and I get track of the time. It’s time to take the pump off and go sit down at the computer to get some work done. I decide against leaving the rubber gown on… It just can get too hot when you plan on wearing it for extended periods of time. So here I sit now then, the red catsuit in all it’s shiny glory, a comfy pair of large silicone anal beads, a nice tight and dry diaper, wondering if the world gets any better that it already is at this wonderful moment.

May 5, 2010 Posted by | Fetish | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

My Very First Attempt at Writing a Fetish Story (Circa 1996)

Kelly, a sexually depraved young woman, is told by a friend about a wonderful friend she has met that is a practicing doctor. She gets his number and eventually gets around to calling him. Kelly shows up at Doug’s house, knowing that he is a lover of role-playing, and they proceed to get to know each other. After talking they decide to go ahead and engage in the activities. They go down the stairs to Doug’s basement/dungeon. Doug likes to seduce his partners with an environment of a medical examination. It is set up just like a doctor’s office. A cold, drab, scary place that is sure to turn on anyone. Doug tells Kelly to go behind the curtain and change into the gown that is laid on the table. Frightened, she walks behind the curtain, where there are various outfits ranging from simple surgical scrubs all the way to full latex catsuits. Doug preferred latex for the outfits they used due to it impervious nature. She strips down to her bare body, almost freezing because of the room and places the paper gown on her body. She comes back out into the main room where she is told to lay down on the examination table. The examination table sits right next to a very odd looking chair that Kelly is sure he uses for the same purposes. Doug, now dressed in a very professional looking lab coat, starts a full exam of every inch of her body. She can tell he has some sort of oil on his hands. It is warm and it relaxes Kelly almost to the point unconsciousness. He contuse to rub down her whole body, paying particular attention to her breasts, feeling every inch, touching it sensually, arousing both himself and Kelly. After a full examination of the front of her body, Kelly is told to turn over. She fears to ask what the doctor is going to do in case he may decide to stop. He once again rubs down every inch of her body to the point where she is relaxed totally. Even though she is in such a vulnerable position, she had never felt this way before. Reluctantly, she turns over and closes her eyes as so she is not aware of what is going on. The last thing she saw was Doug walking over to a large cabinet and some other drawers. She hears the “doctor” putting on a pair of latex rubber gloves. The snap of the rubber made her cringe. Then she felt the cold sensation of Vaseline being applied all around and in her anal area. She felt so odd and helpless here, but this is exactly what she wanted. He takes her temperature with a standard rectal thermometer just to check her reaction to having a foreign object in her rear. He place sit in almost to the point where he would have trouble removing the probe. He waits a few minutes. He finishes with the temperature after observing that it does not bother her to any high degree. He removes the thermometer and returns it to the cabinet, giving Kelly time to relax. Doug tells Kelly that he is going to give her an enema and not to worry about anything because even if she didn’t enjoy it, it would do her no harm. He removes the necessary equipment from the cabinet and chooses a small bardex nozzle so as not to frighten her and so she will have no trouble holding the solution. Kelly once again feels the sensation of the cold Vaseline being rubbed around her anal area. She takes a couple of deep breaths to prepare for the nozzle being inserted. The nozzle is then gently placed in her anus as she breaths out preparing for the rush. Just as she has accepted the feeling in her mind of what it is going to be like, Doug places the nozzle in fully and stops to let her rest. Then, the clamp is opened and the solution begins to slowly rush into her body. She has never had an enema before. And even though it’s a new experience, it pleases her to a great degree. It is such an embarrassing moment for her to feel this way, but she is always submissive at first. She like sot see for far her partner will go before she reverses roles. the enema is finished after a few minutes, but what seems like hours to Kelly, and Doug carefully inflates the bulb on the nozzle. This makes the are seal off so that there is no risk of letting the enema go. He lets her lay on the table for about 20 minutes to let the enemas take effect. He then removes the nozzle. He places his gloved finger into her anus to make sure none of the solution comes out. He also feels around slightly in the anus stimulating both of them even farther. Kelly has the sudden urge to run to the bathroom, but she is convinced by Doug to let the solution take effect. Also, she has almost no energy left because of the effect the enema had on her body. “GO behind the curtain and change out of the gown and into the catsuit on the table”, she is told by the obviously stimulated doctor. He removed his finger from her anus realizing that the enema is no longer in danger of being prematurely released. Kelly sits up on the table and slowly works for way to her feet. She’s not exactly sure what to do because she knows she will not be able to hold in the enema very much longer. Still, she decided to go along with everything and place the catsuit on. It is a clear latex catsuit that covers every inch of her body all the up to the top of her neck. As she slides into the catsuit, she can feel her whole body tense up. This is always what she had imagined. Wearing a second skin was just what she wanted right now. Since it was clear, she could see very inch of her now trembling body. the catsuit has built in gloves and boots so that it will cover completely. She zips up the back of the suit and walks around to the front of the curtain. Doug yells through a door and tells her to come into the other room. The other room is set up like a hospital operating room, so clean, so sterile. Every piece of equipment you could imagine was there. Kelly walks into the room where she notices Doug is dressed in full surgical attire, with a fresh pair of latex gloves. She once again sits down on the table. He walks over and places various devices to monitor different things such as blood pressure, heart rate, pulse, and various other items. The thought of what was going on made her lose control of her rectum and bladder. The warm feeling of liquids in the suit was a comforting one. She is now very frightened to all of the endless possibilities than might occur, but she is too caught up in the fact that she let go of the enema in the suit that she had no idea how long she would be forced to wear. She has no idea how long she will be stuck in the suit and she is embarrassed by the fact that she used the bathroom in it. TH whole time, she keeps defecating in the suit. she is laid down on the table where she is strapped down on every area of her body which in turn ceases all movement. First a strap is placed across her chest, then across her waist, then around her thighs so that her legs will still be spread apart. Her lower legs are then strapped so she has no lower body movement. A cervical collar is placed on her neck so that she cannot bend her neck. But this wasn’t good enough for Doug. He then continued and placed a strap across her forehead. She is now totally immobile. she is terrified and starting to question what is going on. But Doug just tells her not to worry about anything as he places an oxygen mask over her face. This was a little to strange for her. What was the point of oxygen? Meanwhile Kelly has gone to the bathroom again into the catsuit that is sealed all the way to her neck. She can feel the liquid running down her back and her legs. This, for some reason that she cannot grasp, stimulates her greatly. The idea of being sealed in a suit with her own excretions is too much for her to handle and she in turns achieves an orgasm. Doug starts to feel her body again, every inch that he can handle! the latex gloves slide wonderfully up and down her latex covered body. He is still in his surgical gown, cap, and mask. she is very frightened by the fact that is face is not visible to her. It just makes her uneasy. He then places a vacuum pump on an attachment on the suit and begins to remove all the air from the suit. This also removes the enema solution that is lying in the suit. The vacuum pump is left running as he unstraps her from the table. As he unstraps her he turns her over and unzips the suit and gives her another enema. He then places what looks like a plastic sleeping bag on the table. It is an inflatable body bag. He places her in the body bag and begins to seal it up. Then, darkness! She cannot see a thing. Just a small mask still on her face so that she can breathe. She then starts to feel the bag inflate! It’s get’s tighter and tighter to the point where she can now not move. She again releases the enema in the vacuumed catsuit. She falls asleep and wakes up shortly after. As she comes to, she is once again, strapped down to the table. As the oxygen she is breathing is removed, she presumes the session is over. She relaxes for a few minutes before Doug returns and tightens the straps holding her to the table. then, Doug places another mask over her nose and mouth. She is given a very mild amount of anesthesia, which because of her already weakened state, she eventually falls asleep. She soon wakes to find Doug sitting on the very table she was just strapped to. Except now, he is wearing the catsuit, full of her remnants of the enema and the fluids that have been secreted from her clit. He too is intrigued by the fecal matter touching his body. He already has an enema placed in his anus, ready for Kelly to release. Since every inch of his body is now covered by latex, the suit is airtight. But they can see inside of the suit Kelly was dressed in the surgical attire while she was asleep. But under it, she is wearing another latex suit that still covers every inch of her body. She is now the one that gets to do the operating. She decides to perform the same type of procedure with him. She straps him down to the table violently. It almost hurts him because of the tightness of the straps. He tells her what to do with all the equipment that he just used to play with her. the feeling makes him loose all function of his bladder and he urinates in his suit. He tells Kelly that he can no longer stand the enema nozzle in his anus and to release the solution. Because of the height of the bag, the solution is sent rushing into his body. It immediately starts to take effect and he feels the need to release it. She then opens the crotch of the catsuit and places a vibrator sleeve on his cock, and then seals the suit once again. the vibrator is turned on and just as he falls asleep, he has the best orgasm of his life. While he is asleep, she decides that it is time for her to leave. She doesn’t even take the catsuit off, she just leaves it on and places her clothes over top of it. However, before leaving she gives Doug another enema and another right after it. He’s holding two enemas now and the pain is just too intense to hold. He stomach is bulged out to the point that he looks pregnant./

April 22, 2010 Posted by | Fetish | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Who did you decide to be today?

So something that’s been on my mind lately is the personalities we have when we go online. There are a lot of us that are able to relax and be who we want to be on here. The benefit of that is that we seem to be able to reach out to people we normally wouldn’t reach out to and talk to them by being our true “inner” self. But, I’ve noticed a major downside to that over the years I’ve been on here. From time-to-time I’ve had those female profiles online that I’ve used to chat with, etc… Now let me add the caveat that I have never once used them for sexual purposes… No roleplaying, no getting off, nothing along those lines. I have used them for pure friendly chat and getting to know people. The one thing that stands out in my mind is that, guys pay attention here especially; we treat women online like shit. We treat them like objects. I still am amazed at how approachable women seem to be for men here. The comments just fly out of the mouth without any kind of regard to how it’s received on the other end.

With that being said, it turns my interest down the road of our fetish interests. Because of those so we just naturally assume that someone else who shares the same desires should be just as open and willing as we are? Do we continue to assume that they are as interested in that single act that they are as desperate as we are? But why do we treat the women like shit, like objects, like people who are here for our own purposes?

Ok, in all fairness, there is no doubt this goes on with the roles reversed of course. There is no doubt that many of us see the profiles day after day that constantly say things like “no men”, “les only”, etc… The first thing that comes to mind is clearly not all of these people out there are really bisexual or lesbians. But, to me, the next thought has started to become the idea that this is something we’ve possibly created. Do we just target them? Do we just go after them and try to get off and leave? If all of that’s true does it mean that it justifies it all? Sure, there are no clear answers here just because it’s something different for all of us. But at the end of the day, who did you DECIDE to be today? You or the other you?

January 24, 2010 Posted by | Fetish, Life | , , , | Leave a comment

When Medical Fetish and Medical Reality Collide

So many of us that have such a deep interest in the medical world seem to have moments in their lives where the fetish and reality of medicine collide. For most of us maybe that’s the yearly trip to the doctor, or the semi-annual trip to the dentist. For others it’s something more involved and deep. The point is that I think we all go through moments where we have to draw a line between the two more than we normally would just to be able to navigate a difficult situation. This particular instance is happening with me today and involves a surgery my mother is undergoing at the moment.

Now, it’s a routine thing it seems like and the outcomes are expected to be great. But, you still have that generic fear of the unknown. She’s have a lumbar laminectomy, and I’m about 99% certain that I didn’t spell that correctly. Basically they are going to fix a very small amount of spinal stenosis in her spinal column that causes some constant pain in the back and hips and legs. From the clinician point-of-view it’s a 2 hour procedure, with 2 hours in the recovery room after, and then she’ll be admitted until the next day. After that she’s home and on “light duty” for about a month. She’s allowed to drive early next week and she’s allowed to navigate steps and such as soon as she feels comfortable enough to do so. Basically it’s one of those surgeries where everything post-op seems to be very calm and collected and simple to deal with.

The problem comes in when we all start to think about all of the pieces in medical fetish we hold near and dear to our hearts. As you imagine the anesthesia, the prep, the post-op, the recovery these are all things you tend to be familiar with in the research we’ve done and the information we share with others. So, the process itself isn’t daunting. It’s just that unknown fear of something in the back of your mind that makes your stomach all uncomfortable and your heart race with unknown stress. It’s at that moment when you see the beautiful nurse walking by in her blue scrubs and blue bouffant, neatly holding her long hair in place, that you have to remind yourself that you’re here for someone else and not just for your own “viewing pleasure” for lack of a better term.

I don’t want this blog to be a rant on being able to draw lines or even as one against the negative sides to the healthcare industry. Those of you who know me know that I spend a very big portion of my business life working in healthcare and see the good and bad sides. So if it was to be a rant about that, I could go on and on about all the things I think we could do to fix the system. Instead, I want to share this with you all as a journey to understand the inter working parts and pieces of the mind of someone like myself and how I draw the lines, etc… I, as always, would appreciate any possible feedback you could give.

The alarm starts ringing at 430 AM. I know I’ve got to get to my parent’s house by 6 to be able to get my mom to the hospital by 645. I assumed I would do my normal morning routine which consists of me hitting the snooze button 2 or 3 times so that I can gradually wake up over the next 30 minutes. Not today though, my mind is racing and my stomach feeling like there are things floating around in there. It quickly awakens me and I waste some time watching some cheesy movie on TV. I head into the bathroom as usual and take care of all of that… about 45 minutes later I’m in the car and headed down the road to my parent’s house. I am really not worried about anything specific that may happen to her. I am just worried about the situation in general. It’s more or less like some primal fear that humans have… being afraid of being afraid.

645 and we pull into the valet line at the hospital. Yes, valet parking… sooooooo handy when you own an enormous SUV that can have a hell of a time fitting into downtown Pittsburgh parking lots that weren’t built in the last 10-15 years. I will give this place credit that they do have the check-in process very streamlined. We head directly to the floor where they do all of the staging for ambulatory patients and within just a few moments we’re off to the waiting room. They call her name to head to the nurse’s station to get her room assignment for all of the pre-op. I’m told to check at the reception desk automatically in 15-20 minutes and they will send me back to see her. So far so good. I arrive in her room and am pleased to see that her surgeon’s assistant is already with her doing a preliminary exam before the surgery and asking all of those annoying medical questions. I swear they seem more like a social agenda than they do medically relevant. Was waiting for just one more person to ask her if she can get around on her own (she walked into the hospital) and who was taking her home since she was unaccompanied. That one was interesting since I was sitting there in the room and she had identified me as her son. But, alas, I agreed not to turn this into a rant.

Next thing we know they are sending someone in to do the next round of checks. Another nurse with another set of records and yet the same questions she’s been asked before. Now, I will rant just a tiny bit as this woman had absolutely ZERO patience for any humor and really no bedside manner at all. She didn’t identify herself, she didn’t say why she was asking all of the same questions again. The funny part begins when she starts going over the medication list. She’s reading the names off of her pretty white sheet in her nifty little organized binder that she’s got and I am starting to wonder if she’s even literate. My mom tells her, repeatedly, that everything she takes, other than one specific drug, is all taken in the evening at around 8 o’clock and that she DID take them all yesterday. Nope, didn’t matter, this woman kept asking and didn’t even pause when my mother and I were pointing out the absurdity. So, not taking done, god only knows what vault of endless paper it’s going into, and they literally run me out of the room to get her down to the OR. So yes, I was a little ticked off at that. This idiot probably was sitting at the desk eating her Splenda bulger wheat bran muffin (I’m guessing she seems so cold because she’s constipated) and drinking her triple venti, half-and-half, soy latte instead of making her morning rounds to get everyone checked in and moving. I definitely do not have patience for people that do not do their jobs at the speed and efficiency at which I feel I do my own.

It’s about 8 o’clock and I’ve worked my way back to the reception desk where they tell me what the procedure is. I need to be in their waiting room to make sure that I get the call from the doctor when he calls to say how the surgery went. Really? A call? A phone call? This jackass is cutting someone open and then doesn’t even have the decency to come talk to their family when he’s done? OK, no problem right? I’ve got my laptop and a book with me so I look in the waiting room… and yep, it’s filled, with all of the people that brought their extended families with them to wait for their particular family member. So why not head down to the cafeteria to get some coffee. They said I could do that within the first hour so hey, why not.

The world runs on Dunkin’ Doughnuts coffee. That’s what John Goodman tells us on their television and radio commercials. Well, if it runs on their coffee then I can say we have a world full of people out there who don’t know what coffee is. It was black, and it had a slight coffee flavor to it but, with the temperature that would be generated only by the big bang, it was less than appetizing. I pick up my book and start to read hoping to pass the time. Now, common sense will tell you that I am enjoying myself sitting there watching all of the lovely women in medical attire walking by. And that would be a correct assumption. Though, I am at that point where it feels just slightly odd as a positive feeling since I’m sitting here waiting for my mom (who’s clearly my best friend) in surgery.

I wrote this a few weeks ago and never got the chance to finish it. I decided not to finish it since then just because it would defeat the purpose of capturing the feeling at the time. I did just want to make the point though that a lot of the inexperienced folks out there think that medical fetish is as simple as “getting off” by visiting the doctor. That’s just not it at all… and I hope this blog helped some people see that we tend to draw a very clean line between the two.

September 24, 2009 Posted by | Fetish, Life | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Seduced by a Surgical Nurse (Written in 2001)

I have always fantasized about being seduced by a nurse during an operation. The mere idea about being touched by the nurse while she was wearing the Operating Room attire always gave me an instant erection. The attire was to include: white nurses dress style uniform, white pantyhose, sexy white nurses clogs, a green operating room gown complete with face mask, and a pair of sterile, white latex surgical gloves with the cuffs of the gloves pulled up and over the gown cuff-ends sterile style.

Well, about two years ago I met an OR scrub nurse who was about 45 years old, me being 30. We dated a few times and knew that we wanted each other sexually. We had made love a couple times after which I confessed my nurse/OR attire fetish to her and asked her if she would fulfill this fantasy for me. She stated she would gladly do so and we agreed on a time and date. She asked what specifically I wanted her to wear and after I told her she stated she would bring the items home from work over a period of a week or so, sneaking a few items at a time. She admitted that playing nurse all gowned and gloved up sterile also turned her on and she wanted to proceed further as soon as possible. What else could I ask for! The night in question finally came, I met her at her apartment. When she greeted me at the door, she was already wearing the dress, pantyhose, and clogs. We proceeded to her bedroom and she asked that I lie down on the bed as if I was about ready to enter the OR. She also asked me to take all my clothes off and lie on the bed. I got an instant erection which she tried to act like she didn’t notice out of professional courtesy. She walked over to my bedside and said “Mr. Jones, are you ready for us to proceed with prepping you for the operation?” I let out a groan of a yes and she proceeded to get dressed in front of me. My cock was now at full attention at the mere thought of what I was about to see.

At my bedside she took out a green sterile gown packet and put it on using the sterile technique. After which she put on her mask and tied it up covering her face. Then, she took out a packet of gloves marked STERILE SURGICAL GLOVES, SIZE 6 ?. She opened the packet also using the sterile technique and stretched the glove cuffs up and over the gown cuffs while wiggling her fingers to ensure the perfect fit. She then repeated the process with the other hand until both hands were gloved up sterile. Then, she walked around the bed examining me with her hands pointed up in the air flexing her fingers in the gloves. The size 6 ? fit her perfectly tight with no air evident in the fingertips. Then, she asked if I was ready for the procedure.

She then approached my side and reached down and grabbed my penis with her gloved hand and began stroking it long and slow. As excited as I was, precum was evident on the tip of my cock which transferred to her gloves and gave a neat glistening effect. As she continued to manually stimulate my cock, the precum continued to lubricate the latex palm of her gloves. Every known and then she would stop to inspect my balls carefully rubbing them with the latex encased hands. The cool silkiness of the latex against my hard cock was incredible. I watched her and looked over her sexy surgical gown and mask as she worked me over. The tension was beginning to build inside me. As she stood beside me, I cheated and rubbed my hands up and down one of her pantyhosed legs only stopping to admire her sexy clogs on her feet.

She then advised that she wanted to give me a rectal exam. She then took out a tube of surgical lubricant and lubricated the middle finger of her hand. She then instructed me to roll over onto my back. With one gloved hand she spread my cheeks and with the other she inserted a finger into my anus checking my prostate. It felt great. After she was sure I passed that portion of the exam, she removed her finger from my anus and advised me to roll back on my back. At that point, my nurse advised that her gloves were now soiled and that she would have to discard them before continuing with the exam. She pulled off the once sterile gloves and opened a new packet and donned them sterile closed technique as before. When she was ready, she came back to my bedside with her hands point towards the ceiling and asked “Ok, are we ready to proceed again?”. I grunted yes.

She once again began to stimulate my cock with her sterile gloved hands. After a few minutes of this, I announce that I had enough and couldn’t hold it any further. She asked if she wanted to make me cum and I screamed yes. She began to stroke my cock and an amazing rate, sometimes using both gloved hands. The friction from the gloves against my hard cock caused the latex to make a noise which I loved. A few minutes later I screamed I was going to cum and I exploded all over her gloves and the front of her once sterile green OR gown. The streams of sperm were long and wet all over the front of her gown and soaked her gloves.

After I was done, she stripped off her gown and gloves and removed her mask. She stated that the operation was now complete and that I could rest. I repeated this on a regular routine basis, at one point I became the surgeon and we switched roles. That however, is another story and another time. If you would like to read that story, let me know.

April 22, 2009 Posted by | Fetish | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

The Interrogation (Written by an old, old friend somewhere around 1999-2000)


Mariella is tired. As she leaves the warmth of the underground the gusting wind slaps her in the face, forcing her to raise the hood of her green rubberized nylon mac, hold the cowl tight at her face and bow her head. The rain is heavy and she can see the hem of the coat darken at her feet and feel moisture seeping into the soles of her boots, watching her toecaps as each foot presses the material forward at every step and insane gusts of wind whip her coat apart to soak the nylon skirts beneath.

The walk is only a hundred meters or so but she hurries, aware that she is late and feeling uneasy lest she be barred entrance as a result. She gets to the steps of the Ministry of Correction and takes them two at a time passing the two SS women positioned on guard, stoic, grim faced in their calf length black patent trench coats and jackboots, through the doors into the marble reception area.

In the calm and quiet she lowers the hood and begins to unbuckle the coat, takes out her pass and swipes it at the turnstile next to the three women in their grey batwing collared satin uniform blouses who sit at the desk.

” In a hurry Sister?” the older woman smiles at her flirtatiously and Mariella shyly smiles in return.

The turnstile clicks and she hastens towards the lifts, her boot heels clicking on the polished stone floor and her face returns to the look of pinched worry of before.

The doors hiss open to reveal a leather garbed sire, a senior SS officer. Mariella pauses.

” Come in Sister” she growls. Mariella obeys.

She bows her head as decorum dictates, looking at the woman’s polished laced boots and her leather jodhpurs. The lift drops.

The Sire gets out after two floors have passed, Mariella waits until it reaches the lowest level. Here, far beneath the City streets it is even quieter and she feels her anxiety increase as she hurries to the changing rooms. She opens the door and a half naked woman turns towards her, Annelise. She is smiling.

” Hello Sister Mariella, just in time to help me.” And Mariella relaxes, this is the first person to talk to her today and just the sound of her voice and her smile have blown away many of the worries.

She also smiles.

” I am late.” She says shrugging out of her heavy coat, which softly crackles as she hangs it up.

” Not at all darling.” Annelise drawls. She is relaxed, beautiful, confident. A tall, slim girl with honey blonde hair, angel’s face, wide mouth and a long neck. She moves towards Mariella, dressed only in her conically cupped brassiere and pants in black rayon and a wasp waisted corset and stockings.

” Here, let me help you.” She waits until Mariella is also in corset bra and pants and then, hanging her cheap nylon dress next to her coat, she brings their uniforms. Mariella watches as she steps into the long, dark blue polished latex dress and pulls it up onto her hips and she brings their gloves, skintight thin blue latex already talced. They pull them on. Annelise now assists Mariella to dress, lacing up her own nurse’s uniform from the high, partially boned collar to the small of her back.

Mariella’s confidence increases even more as she dresses. The uniform is like a shield, the aromatic latex protecting her. The high neck and the sight of her own breasts thrusting forward the rubber glistening under the lights reassures her. The tightness of the bodice is comforting, the floor length A line skirt swishing over her stockinged legs, lined in layers of thin blue latex and rayon silk makes her feel secure.

The sleeves are tight from armpit to the light blue cuffs and also have to be laced from the elbow. The pale blue Cuban heeled Wellingtons squeak as she moves, the light blue wimples which cover their heads and frame their faces and the long dark blue latex veils, subtly strapped to their crowns and falling to the floor behind them.

Finally they both pick up and tighten their triple buckled deep blue rubberized satin belts and then their dark blue latex elbow length capes, strapped at the neck and the material whispering over breasts and arms.

They check their makeup together paying particular attention to their eyes and then fasten each other’s thin, pale blue latex yashmaks over the lower part of their faces. These act as surgical masks in some contexts but also give the girls a more menacing appearance.

Mariella adores Annelise and likes working with her, the blonde already has their schedule and leads the way to the torture chambers where they will be stationed today, her skirts slapping as she walks down the corridor to room 8.

She knocks.

” IN!”

It is bright. All the torture chambers are identically furnished. The floors are a checker board of large black and white rubber tiles. The walls are finished with white ceramic tiles, so much easier to clean. In the centre of the ten meter square room is the operating table steel and latex covered , occupied at the moment by a naked girl, her arms stretched wide and secured by thick rubber cuffs, legs high and spread far apart upon obstetric supports. At her head is a small chair where the presiding nurse sits and a table with surgical instruments, hypodermic syringes and suction tubes. Annelise swishes to this and seats herself, Mariella stands behind her.

One other women is in the room, the torturess. A sire, dressed in tight black leather trousers tucked into black patent, high heeled boots. She also wears a black silk uniform blouse and a thick belts from which hangs the steel meter long electric prod and bullwhip she appears to have been working on the girl for a little time, her blouse has been pulled open to show her vestigial breasts covered with a fine sheen of sweat. Her striking, angular face with long thin nose and small mean mouth is flushed but her cropped hair is still slick with cream and perfect, like polished PVC.

” We are ready to begin again Sister.” The tall woman says, blowing cigarette smoke through her nostrils.

” Pretty, the last two were fucking bitch faced old bags.” Mariella smiles and Annelise giggles, as they are both expected to do.

” I gave her a good beating with the rubber hose and then had her whipped for an hour in the strappado – I had her arms out, dislocated I should say. One of the others put them back in “. Mariella studies the raw cuts on the girl’s body, the livid bruising, purple and black. Her breasts have been bound at the base with serrated wire and the flesh above is dark blue and black, she is likely to lose them if she lives, the nipples are huge and red.

” I’ve used the electroshock machine for the last hour or so and the bitch has passed out a few times.” She smiles evilly. ” Particularly when we put a few hundred volts thro her cuntlips, so we know she is sensitive there.”

” Now I want to go off shift in three hours at the latest because I have a little date with a pretty young secretary bird and I intend fucking her till her eyes bulge and I want the confession by then. Nothing too much, just an admission of plotting against the Sisterhood. I will give you the names she has to finger………..here.”

Mariella studies the list. Women who will be brought here too, at the moment free but soon to be punished just like this. More work for the Ministry of Correction.

” Right I want to see what I can do with a cuntscrew, never used one before. Okay?”

She does not wait for an answer……..

They begin.

Tessa asks Mariella for the equipment and she moves quickly to the shelves at the far end of the room to find the correct things and then returns to stand between the up stretched legs where the woman in black is fisting the girl.

” She’s dry.” Grunts the woman, twisting her arm within the girl.

But Mariella is not. She is aroused, now concentrating totally on the moment. She stares at the arm of the torturess, the sleeve pulled up and the glove, studded with steel pyramids with which she is punishing her victim.

She feels wetness at her cunt and adrenaline in her stomach. She leans forward.

” If you punch her there Sire the lips will swell and make the screw easier to insert” she whispers. The woman turns.

” Yes! Right” she withdraws brutally and then punches into the exposed, gaping cunt. Mariella hears a faint mew. She looks up.

Annelise is cradling the girls shaven head in the crook of her arm, face next to the ear, kissing, whispering. The girl is, of course, double gagged with an inflated ball behind a wide strap and the breathing tube and feeding tubes loop above her and dangle onto her tortured breasts.

” There!” Another punch, then another. Mariella watches the flesh slowly recoil, stippled with blood where the tips of the studs have opened them.

Mariella leans closer again and places a hand on the woman’s arm.

” You are very strong Sire please not too much or the nerves will deaden in shock”

Again the woman turns.

” You are VERY strong.” She whispers.

The woman looks into her eyes. She can see the arousal and, after all, a nurse is as much to comfort the torturer as to preserve the victim for as long as possible.

” Yeah. I’ll leave her a while. I need a break too. Know what I mean Sister?”

Mariella does and she slowly, very slowly kneels at the woman’s feet. She runs her hands over her thighs feeling the muscles beneath, the soft leather is smooth. She rakes her fingers inside her thighs and lays her head against her belly.

” Very very strong!”

” Yeah Sister, that’s right!”

Mariella deftly unbuckles the crotch flap and the aroma of the woman hits her, the silk lined surface is sticky with wetness. She lowers her yashmak and opens her mouth. She clamps it over the hot cunt sucking. The woman places her hands either side of her head and grunts.

Mariella makes her tongue long and hard and inserts it into the cleft. Presses into the sherbet tasting vagina she moves her head. More, rocking, pressing. Now she sucks at the nub, the long clitoris and the woman grunts again. She tongues, sucks, tongues……………………..

She hears movement, smells latex, knows that Annelise is now working on the woman. She knows she is kissing her, kneading her buttocks and breasts. Those hard flat muscled breasts. And she feels the woman close…………..a slap on her head. A grunt.

A yelp.

And a long shuddering………….tight hard muscles and the woman grinding herself against Mariell’a face.

She waits. Then slowly stands.

” Good little Sister!” she gets an affectionate pat on the cheek.

” Now give me the screw!”

The instrument is made of fine steel and shaped like a miniature corkscrew. Whilst Annelise returns to the slave’s head the woman takes off her gloves and with her bare fingers grasps at one labum majorum.

She presses the needle tip onto the flesh and then twists, a spurt of dark blood spurts out and the girl hisses, rigid. Mariella feels her thigh, taut with agony. The woman continues ……………..slowly…..very slowly twisting. One turn is now embedded in the cuntflesh, shredding millions of nerve ends, now two…………………slowly turning. Inexorable, appalling.

” A second!” It is Annelise. ” Come here Mariella, she has gone!”

Mariella swishes in her heavy latex to the head.

” Adrenalin, hypo please!”

Mariella supplies it.

” Now now darling you must wake up!” Annelise hisses into the girl’s ear and slaps at one of the breasts. There is a keening noise and the girl jolts. Her eyes open tears running down her cheeks.

” Yes darling…………..poor thing . Did the nasty woman hurt you pet? Auntie knows how to make it better………….there.” She kisses the girls ear and strokes at her face, the eyes, once wide in terror begin to relax.

” Yes darling you trust me, don’t you. Believe me” she whispers ” I WILL help you. These mad bitches want to hurt you but I can stop the pain. I can help. You do believe me my darling girl, don’t you”

Imperceptibly almost the girl nods.

” Oh good, good girl.!” Annelise tenderly wipes the tears from the tortured girl’s face. Standing, kissing her cheeks and eyelids.

She unstraps her small cape at the neck, takes it off and lays it over the victim’s body, covering her face.

Unseen she walks to the tortures.

” Mistress may I suggest something?”

” Yeah?”

” Mistress will need to finish this, perhaps if the girl is ungagged I may be able to get her confession now.”

” But I want to finish with the screw….”

” Of course Mistress, but with the confession you might be able to carry out whatever you wish with less pressure, enjoy the procedure a little more………..and I want to try some things you may not have seen yet. The red hot speculum for instance?”

The woman licks her lips.

” Sure.”

Annelise motions to Mariella.

” Ungag her and give her a little water. When she has confessed I will give her enough adrenaline to keep her conscious for days whatever the pain. I want the wire cut and you know what that will do, Mistress will continue with her cunt whilst we do it. Yes?”

” Annelise, you are terrible!” Mariella giggles, feeling cuntcream oozing from her at the prospect.

“Good”

Annelise takes the list and sits again, cooing as she removes her cape.

” I have managed to do it for you my darling, because Auntie loves you and only wants to stop this pain. It is terrible isn’t it?”

The girl blinks.

” Now Auntie is going to take off the gag and give you a little water, then you must promise to say what Auntie wants you to say. You will won’t you?”

The girl blinks again.

” Oh good girl, and then Auntie will stop the pain. I promise and then I can help you, soothe the pain away.” She strokes the prisoner’s cheek.

” For I am a nurse and I can take all that pain away with a little needle………………….see, this one here. When you have confessed I will give my little darling the injection if she wants and all the pain will stop, won’t that be nice ?”

The girl is crying again. Annelise smiles down at her and then turns to grin at Mariella.

” Very well. Nurse, remove the gags please.”

April 22, 2009 Posted by | Fetish | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment