Medfet's Weblog

Medical Fetish Fun and Fantasy

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

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

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 Visit (Written by me in 1997)

Don Hall was a young man, about twenty years old. He’s a very successful student and a very active guy. He’s always had friends, but never any real close ones. And he’s never had any close relations especially with women. He really hasn’t been feeling too well lately so he decides to go and see the doctor to get a checkup. He’s still new to this new college town so he is not familiar with any of the physicians. Especially the one he chose to see—Dr. Malone.

After sitting in the waiting room for some time, the receptionist decides to get him to do all the paper work that needs to be done. This is exactly the kind of crap Don hates to deal with. Just bureaucratic bullshit! He hates this crap and begins to feel even more uptight about seeing Dr. Malone. A large nurse, wearing a greenish shirt and matching pants steps through the doorway. “Don Hall please.” With little hesitation, Don gets up and walks to the door. “Come with me please.” Don follows. She leads him down a long hallway to an exam room that is unoccupied. “Have a seat and the doctor will be with you shortly.” “Okay, thanks”, Don utters softly.

As expected he is looking all around the room. Obviously wondering what is behind every cabinet and in every drawer. Then there is a knock at the door and in walks a beautiful woman. “Damn it, another nurse”, he thinks. “Hi, I’m Dr. Malone.” Don was expecting an older man, but not this goddess of a woman. She was very tall. Taller than Don by a few inches. She had long, light brown hair, incredible breasts, and the perfect body size. “What seems to be the problem?”, she asked. “Well, I just haven’t been feeling right lately. I’ve been kind of down about things and real irritable lately. And physically I haven’t been feeling the greatest either.” “How long have you been feeling like this?” “Probably about a month or so now.” “Okay then, let’s see what’s going on.” She takes his blood pressure and pulse and is clearly not pleased with the results. She then takes his temperature in his mouth and notes all the results on his chart. “Well, I’ve got good and bad news for you. What first?” “The bad I guess”, he says reluctantly. “I’m afraid that we’re going to have to check you in to the hospital for some tests.” “And the good news is that you’re kidding right?”, Don says with a little uncertainty in his voice. “No, the good news is that I am almost sure that I can treat you.” But I can’t…” “Yes you can. I am calling to make the necessary arrangements. When you leave here I would like you to go over there and get all checked in.” “Well, if I have to then I will, but what is wrong?” “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing too serious. We’ll get it all worked out.”

Don leaves the office and is really worrying that something is terribly wrong. He is almost sick to his stomach when he arrives at the hospital. After doing all the paper work and other crap at the registration desk, he is told to go and have a seat in the waiting room. He’s got his head buried in a magazine when he hears a voice in the doorway. “Donald Hall.” “Yes?” “Come with me please. We’re going to get you up to your room and get you settled. Dr. Malone will be in later this afternoon.” She takes him to a room on the very top floor of the hospital. He is puzzled by the fact that this wing of the hospital is almost empty. The rest of the wing is just filled with a bunch of closed doors. “Here you go. Just change into he gown on the bed and you can put all your personal belongings in the cabinet next to the bed. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He still has no clue about what is going on as he changes into the gown. Still very unsure and uptight about the situation, he sits on the bed and tries to calm down.

This time a different nurse comes in and tells Don to just relax and get comfortable until the doctor arrives. “What section of the hospital is this?” The nurse slowly replies, “These are all Dr. Malone’s patients.” “what do you mean?” “Please just lay back and relax.” She then hurries out the door.

Dr. Malone finally shows up about an hour later. “How are you feeling Don?” “Well, fine I guess but I really want to know what’s going on!” “Don’t worry about it. We’ll take great care of you here. We’re going to get you down into an exam room and run some tests.” Another nurse walks into the room. “This is Nurse Kelly. She’ll be assisting me today.” Two orderlies come in pushing a gurney. “Go ahead and slide over here and we’ll get you down to your room.” The two men help Don over onto the gurney and they begin to roll him down the hall. As they get to the exam room they then help him up onto the exam table. “Just sit tight and someone will be right with you.”

Nurse Kelly walks into the room by herself. She is wearing a long, green, surgical-type gown and a cap that covers all her long brown hair. Around her neck is a mask loosely tied around it. As she walks in another nurse, also totally covered by gown, cap, and mask, walks in pushing a very large cart that is covered with a few drapes. Hiding whatever is on it from sight. “You can leave now Nurse, the Dr. And I can handle this one.” The other nurse then quickly leaves the room. She walks over to where Don is sitting on the table and unties the back of his gown. “What is that for?” “Please just cooperate with me.” “Please let me leave it on.” “It has to come off and if you’re not going to cooperate with me, I’ll make sure it comes off and stays off!” Slowly Don starts to pull the gown off and notices that Kelly is now tying her mask up over her nose and mouth. He then hears a snap and notices that she also has put on a pair of latex gloves. As she walks back to the table she starts massaging every inch of his body to get him to try to relax. The feeling of her gloved hands starts to give him a slight erection. “Roll over please.” “Excuse me?” “Roll over onto your front side please,” she says sternly. She then gets a tube of lubricant from he cart and squeezes some onto her gloved finger. She starts to rub it all over his anus and then shoves her fingers up inside as far as they can go. She then grabs a thermometer from the cart and works it slowly into place. Don has no clue what to think so he just lays there very still and very quiet. She removes the thermometer after a few minutes, just as Dr. Malone walks in. She is also totally covered. The only way Don knows who it is was because of her great height. “Temperature looks normal but there were some severe blockages that I could feel. What would you like to do?” Colonic irrigation would seem to be the trick.” “I agree.” “Have you ever had an enema Don?” “A what!”, as he looks over at the two of them. “What for?” “It’s just part of the treatment I have ordered.” “I refuse to stay here any longer!” “Okay then. Just please relax and we’ll talk about what we’re going to do.” The doctor casually nods to the nurse and she quietly prepares a syringe with a light sedative in it. Dr. Malone and Don are trying to work out their differences to each other when he feels a prick in his arm. “Relax Mr. Hall. This will take affect very quickly.” He jumps off of the table and tries to run for the door but the drug is already starting to take affect. He collapses to the floor.

When he wakes up, he is back on the exam table. This time he is strapped down very tightly. He has a cervical collar around his neck and a strap across his forehead. Also there is one across his chest, one across his waist, one around each thigh and one around each ankle. There were also restraints around his wrist. He absolutely couldn’t move. They also had placed a breathing mask over his nose and mouth. After they had him in place, they placed a large double bardex nozzle in his ass and had all the vacuum lines in place for the colonic. “You wouldn’t do it the easy way, so now you’ll have to do it our way. Just relax and the treatment will be over real soon.” Since Don is fighting against the restraints, the doctor tells Nurse Kelly to turn on some laughing gas. The gas won’t knock him out but we’ll make him space out to what is going on. He has no choice but to just accept the enema. After about 4 quarts have been pumped into him, he obviously looks like he is pregnant from all the water. It is now time to remove the solution. The water is very soapy so he is starting to crap very seriously.

“We’re gonna be done here in just a few more minutes.” She then inserts a very large suppository in his ass and places him in a diaper. She removes the mask from his face and says, “We’ll see you in the morning”. The nurse then injects him with another strong sedative. As he is drifting off to sleep, the orderlies are putting him back on the gurney.

He wakes up many hours later this time on what he thinks is an operating room table. He is still tied down but the restraints have been loosened. The Doctor and Nurse walk in followed by a few more nurses. All of them are wearing clear latex suits under their gowns. They are so shiny and you can see through the parts that are not covered by the gowns. “How are you feeling?” Don does not know how to answer. One of the nurses comes over and starts to put an IV in his arm. They then take his arms and strap them down to the armboards to the sides of the table. As this is happening, two other nurses are putting his feet up in the stirrups and pulling his knees almost up to his chest. His legs are then strapped down again. Some more tubes are once again placed in his ass but he is helpless to fight it. They place a mask over his face again as they re hooking him up to different heart monitors and such. He cannot see the nurses faces because they are all covered by their masks. He is totally naked on the table, not even a blanket covering him. One of the nurse leans over him from the top and places a cold stethoscope on his chest. Another takes his blood pressure. “Nice just relax, and this will be over very shortly.” The nurses then injects something into his IV, and he feels himself slowly falling asleep. When he wakes up he is in the same room, but now he is clothed. Only by a diaper. The nurse have put him in a diaper and have left him on the table. Then, he hears the doors open. The nurse are walking in again, still fully covered. One walks over and rips off his diaper. The other injects him with a very light sedative just enough to make him a little drowsy, but still conscious. Then, they start playing with his cock. Rubbing it up and down and squeezing it. Don is helpless to fight back! One nurse, slowly climbs on top of him, and begins to violently rape him. He tries to yell out, but no one can hear him. Finally, all eight of the nurses have taken their turn on top of him. Just as they are finished, he is knocked out again.

When Don comes to, he is lying in a hospital bed back in his room. “Hello sleepy head.” Dr. Malone has returned. We can’t seem to find anything wrong with you. But if you could come back next weekend, we will need to run some more tests.,

April 22, 2009 Posted by | Fetish | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Surgical Scrub


Karen walked confidently into the locker room. She’d been an O. R. nurse now for about five years, and she still thought it was the best part of the whole nursing profession. Ever since her very first time in the O. R. as a nurse, though, she’d noticed a certain, well, strangeness, about the way it made her feel. Worse, in the last year since she started the anesthesiology track at the university, that feeling had become stronger. She contemplated this some more as she grabbed a set of scrubs and sat down in front of her locker and began removing her street clothes. She kicked off her loafers and began wriggling out of her jeans. As she pulled on her scrub pants, she wondered if any of the other nurses with whom she’d ever worked felt the same way. Well, there’d been at least one, she was fairly certain.

She thought back to that very first time in the O.R. She had been working on her RN degree, holding down a full-time job, and trying to keep her head above water through it all. Tired and sore, she had not exactly looked forward to being on her feet for several more hours after work, and in truth she was rather dreading it, what with all the mystique surrounding the operating room. And then there were the rumors about one of the O.R. nurses…

But it was required, and it was available now after one of the other students had taken sick at the last moment. No time even to think about it, really.

She’d sat through the requisite seminars on asepsis and didn’t think much more about the whole scene. The department figured that the best training was on-the-job training, and after three more BORING seminars on sterilization and post-op infections and whatever else, she was ready. But nothing had prepared her for the woman who met her as she walked into the scrub room that first time…

She walked into the locker room, not really certain of where she was going and certainly not of what to expect or what she should do. Lost, almost?

“May I help you?” a woman’s voice asked authoritatively, as though she really were not supposed to be there. Karen turned to see the speaker, a tall, athletic-looking woman in green scrubs and a cap. A mask hung untied under her chin. Karen felt immediately intimidated.

“Uh, yeah,” she began. “My name’s Karen Fl-” “Yes, you’re here in Emily’s place. She gave Karen a hard stare, as though she were looking at something disagreeable. “Right, then,” she continued. “Scrub clothes are here on this shelf and caps and masks there as you go into the scrub room. Get dressed; Maggie will be out in a moment to help you.” With that she turned and was gone.

Karen shook her head, trying to clear the memory. She unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall to the floor. She happened to glance in the mirror at the end of the row of lockers and gazed absently at her reflection. Clad now just in green surgical pants and her bra, she looked over herself. The past couple years of aerobics and karate were really toning up her body, she observed as she turned from side to side to get a good look at herself. Her breasts didn’t sag at all, even without a bra. Unconsciously she stood even straighter and thrust her chest out slightly. Instantly she felt her nipples harden, and she was suddenly acutely aware of where she was. A tinge of redness crept into her face. She turned from her image in the mirror and picked up her scrub top, slipping it over her head and tucking it into her pants. “Why does this have to happen NOW?” she wondered as she pulled the drawstring tight and tied it.

She was a registered nurse, and this was another day at work. Doing something she really liked, really, but nothing more. She picked up her street clothes and hung them in her locker, then headed for the scrub room. At the door she picked up a pair of shoe covers. As she bent to slip them on, she felt the fabric of her top stretch across her breasts, further compressing her already-hard nipples. She tried to ignore it as she tucked her short-cropped hair up into a cap, but it was no use. She reached for a mask, and felt butterflies in her stomach as she stretched the bottom edge snugly under her chin and tied it high on her head. The memory came flooding back.

The word “Dominatrix” or “Mistress” sprang suddenly to her mind. But now she was gone, leaving Karen in the charge of an older nurse, probably in her 50s. Karen suddenly didn’t want to be there, but it was too late now. The nurse handed her a cap, with instructions to be sure to get all her hair under it. “There we are. That’s good,” she said. “Now turn around for me.

“This is the mask, dear,” she explained, as she tied the mask tightly over Karen’s face. The mask drew tightly over her nose and mouth and a shiver went down her spine, clear to her tailbone. The nurse’s fingers lightly brushed the back of her neck as she finished tying it.

“We mustn’t spread our germs about, you know.”

Oh, how she had hated that.

“Very nice, dear. I’ll put mine on, then we’ll need to get you scrubbed.” She quickly tied on her own mask, and then, “Step to the sink for me, please.” She began lecturing about the importance of a good surgical scrub, and Karen soon found herself in orange soap suds practically up to her armpits. Karen began to drift, enjoying the sensation. But something seemed a little odd about it, the way the other nurse’s hands were all over her own, gently scrubbing, squeezing, caressing… Inexplicably, Karen felt herself growing more and more aroused. The feeling grew as they finished up and dried their hands.

Again she shook her head. She finished tying her mask, and stepped into the scrub room. Soon she finished and turned off the water with her elbow, then looked around for the scrub nurse. The room was empty. She turned toward the window into the O.R., and caught her own reflection in the glass. Masked and a cap, her hands up in front of her still dripping, the eyes in the glass stared back at her above that mask. Her thoughts were turning to that first time again when suddenly the door to the O.R. opened. Another nurse came in, gowned and gloved.

“Hi, Karen,” a familiar voice said. It was her roommate, Jenny.

“Hi, Jenn. Seen the scrub nurse?” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “What’re you doing here, anyway?” Jenny worked the pediatric ward.

“Oh, a little girl from my floor went in earlier, and she really wanted me there with her. Pretty scared,” she explained. “Liz is still in there,” she said of the scrub nurse. “You’re kind of early, aren’t you?”

“A little. Couldn’t sleep. Hey, could you help me finish up here?”

“Sure. Gown & gloves?”

Karen merely nodded, and watched as Jenny took out a gown and unfolded it for her. She held the gown for Karen as she thrust her arms into the sleeves. Suddenly she found herself fighting off a strong urge to wrap her arms around Jenny and… And what?!? Get a grip woman, Karen demanded of herself. The gown on, she turned around for Jenny to tie it.

Jenny took a package of gloves and ripped it open. Karen held her hands out as Jenny slipped first one, then the other, expertly over her outstretched hands. The Memory was coming back.

“Uh, Jenn?” Karen began as Jenny finished with her gloves. She felt like a fool, or an outcast, maybe a freak. She struggled to keep her voice even. “Will you be home tonight?”

“Yeah. You okay?” Jenny sounded concerned as she began removing her own gloves.

“I’m fine. I just need to… I mean, I’ve been…” Shit, Karen thought. “I don’t know. Just talk, I guess.” The last part she blurted out, as though it were a relief to be done with it.

“Okay,” Jenny answered. “I’ll be back by the time you get there.” She looked with some concern at her good friend. “Anything in particular?”

Karen rallied herself. This can wait, she ordered herself. “No. See you tonight.” She grinned behind her mask at Jenny. Nice friend, she thought to herself, and backed through the O.R. door, her gloved hands in the air in front of her.

“Gloves, now, hold your hands up for me… There. Don’t touch anything now; remember sterile to sterile and you’ll be just fine….” They entered the O.R, and Karen felt her heart going a mile a minute.

Maggie gave her a brief tour, but soon they began setting up. Then the patient was wheeled in by a couple of orderlies. Maggie droned on about sterile fields and what not, and draped the patient and scrubbed the area while talking.

Karen watched the anesthetist (a woman) put him under – the way she held the mask, tilted his head back. She felt as though she were in a trance, and she could feel her pussy getting damp. He’s completely in your power now, isn’t he, thought Karen.

And she was horny now, and couldn’t even TOUCH her crotch or tits. She felt her nipples hardenÖOh, how badly she wanted to touch, pinch, them. She looked at her hands, encased in the latex surgical gloves. What would it feel like to masturbate with these on? she thought fleetingly. The sudden intimacy and the clearness of the thought shocked her back into reality.

Half an hour later everyone was in place and ready. Karen took a deep breath. She knew what was coming as she walked over to the table, and she looked forward to it with a perverse sort of fascination. She took her seat on the stool at the patient’s head. She looked at her, an athletic young woman in her twenties, in for a knee operation because of an accident. Her name was Angie.

“How’re you doing?” Karen asked in a voice no one else could hear.

“Nervous,” was all she could manage.

“I know,” she began. “Just about everyone is, but you’re in good hands.” She picked up the anesthesia mask and shifted slightly on her stool as her pussy contracted involuntarily. “I’ll take good care of you.”

She tilted the woman’s head back and placed the mask firmly over her nose and mouth. “Just relax now and take some deep breaths for me.”

Angie looked up into Karen’s masked face and closed her eyes.

“Here we go, Angie,” Karen whispered, lightly caressing the woman’s cheek. Karen pressed the valve on the mask, flooding Angie’s lungs with the power anesthetic.

And so it went, and very soon Karen shifted into her professional mindset, banishing entirely all the sexual connotations she’d brought to her vocation over the last several years.

* * *

Maggie and The Mistress and Karen were the last ones left. Karen went to the locker room to change. She thought she’d forgotten something, and went back to the O.R. She paused at the door, and peered through the window. What she saw stopped her in her tracks.

There was Maggie on the table, an anesthesia mask strapped onto her face with the hoses dangling free, and her gown and scrub dress up over her hips. Her legs were up in the stirrups, and The Mistress, still masked & gloved, sat on a stool, her face buried in Maggie’s crotch. Maggie had both hands on the back of the Mistress’s head, and was writhing around in obvious pleasure.

Karen furtively watched the scene for a bit, getting hornier and HORNIER and HORNIER. She reached up to touch her mask, then pinched her nipples, and came. Hard. Slowly she calmed down, and then, feeling foolish and embarrassed, and a little like an intruder, she went quickly back to the locker room to change. She left the hospital immediately, now and forever unable to forget the scene she’d just witnessed in the O.R.

That scene haunted her for weeks, and the more she thought about it the more it aroused her. Soon she found herself spending more and more time in and around the O.R., hoping to catch another glimpse of Maggie and The Mistress doing their own special “procedure.” She never did, and later Maggie, and then the Mistress, moved away to other jobs at different hospitals.

Karen, however, was touched forever. She knew that the O.R. was the place for her, but she felt a little odd about one of the main reasons. She would frequently lie in bed at night after a session in the O.R., with visions of masks and gloves and “operating” on her “patient” going through her mind as she masturbated to a tremendous, gut-wrenching, thrashing orgasm.

She came out of the O.R. one afternoon toward the end of her final semester feeling hornier than she ever had. She looked at her hands, still clad in the rubber surgical gloves, the long cuffs pulled tightly up over the sleeves of her gown. All at once she remembered her first time in the O.R., and how the clarity of the thought of masturbating with the gloves on had hit her. Karen felt as though she were in a dream as she reached up to untie her mask. I’ve never tried it dressed out like this before, she thought, and in her heart she knew that prepping for surgery would never be the same again. She quickly changed and gathered up a few items from the supply room, then headed home.

Her heart was in her throat as she stepped in the front door and locked and bolted it. After a quick check to confirm her roommate’s absence for the rest of the day, she headed for her bedroom.

With the addition of some items from the bathroom, she carefully laid out all the items from the hospital; everything was ready. She felt a bit giddy as she began to strip down to her bra and pantyhose; the anticipation was palpable. Opening her closet, she chose her green scrub dress – easier access, she told herself. She slipped the dress on and tied it snuggly about her waist and neck , then reached for the O.R. clogs her older sister, also a nurse, had given her for her birthday. She slipped her feet into them and turned to the full-length mirror. She always had been pleased with her body, she thought as she studied herself. As if in a trance she raised her hands to her full breasts and cupped them, squeezing them gently. The wetness in her crotch was definitely building. You’re a hot one, aren’t you girl, she silently told her reflection in the glass. She watched herself reach for the shoe covers and slip them on, and then pick up the cap. For the second time that day she went through the process of carefully tucking every wisp of hair under the cap. At last, her heart thudding in her chest, she picked up the mask.

Karen vividly remembered Maggie tying her mask in place for her that first time as she turned the mask over in her slender hands, feeling the material and enjoying the anticipation of what was to come. “We mustn’t spread our germs about, you know.”

Bitch, Karen said to herself now. We also mustn’t have an orgasm unless we’re masked, either, mustn’t we, she thought. Her hands trembled as she raised the mask to her face. Slowly and deliberately she stretched the bottom edge under her chin and tied the strings tight on top of her head. She felt butterflies in her stomach as she raised it up over her nose and tied the other pair of strings behind her head. A strong shiver shook her body as she pressed the metal strip down over her nose.

Masked now, she studied her reflection in the mirror. Again she cupped her breasts, and drew her breath in sharply at the sudden rush of pleasure. She both saw and felt her mask flatten against her face, and she knew she’d passed the point of no return: prepping for surgery would definitely never be the same again.

The gown was next. As she put it on and wrapped it around her shoulders and back, she wished she had someone to tie it for her, but… But what? she wondered. She let the thought go and tied the gown.

Now the gloves, she thought as she ripped open the sterile package. She held the open package to her face, deeply inhaling the aroma of latex through her mask. Her nipples were rock-hard, and tightened further at the smell of the gloves. She took the first one, thrust her hand into it and stretched the long cuff up over the sleeve of her gown. Then the other one, and she was done.

This is it now, girl, she thought as she watched herself in the mirror, holding her gloved hands up in front of her just like in the O.R. She positioned a chair and footstool to face the mirror, and raised her gown and scrub dress as she slowly sat down. Her hands went to the inside of her thighs as she spread her legs. The crotch of her pantyhose was thoroughly soaked, and the wetness had begun to spread down her legs. Delicious, Karen thought as she caressed her legs. She rubbed her swollen lips through the nylon, loving the feeling of the fabric moving against them. Her knees trembled at the touch; her whole body ached for the powerful, flooding release of orgasm.

She reached for the sterile prep tray and opened it, placing it on the table beside her. She placed her feet on the footstool and selected a scalpel from the tray. With this she deftly cut away the entire crotch of her pantyhose, completely exposing her pubic area and the uppermost part of her legs. She ran her fingers through the soft curls until she reached the smooth hood of her clitoris. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gently rubbed her gloved fingers over her clit. She lowered her other hand to the opening of her aching vagina. She spread her legs wide to allow herself an unobstructed view in the mirror as she slowly and deliberately penetrated herself. She had never been this horny before, she realized, and the thought distracted her for a moment. She got her breath and calmed down a little, then removed her hands from her pussy.

Turning to the prep tray again, she took the razor and a can of shaving lotion. She made quick work of removing every last bit of hair from her pubic area until she was as smooth and clean as a little girl. She finished cleaning herself up and looked in the mirror again. We’re ready to begin now, she said to the masked woman in the mirror.

She raised her hands to her breasts and cupped them again, squeezing them harder this time. Oh, how long she had wanted to do this. She brought one hand to her breasts, kneading them and pinching her nipples roughly. She leaned back into the chair and spread her legs wide again, completely exposing her newly-bare pussy.

Both hands moved as if of their own volition to the glistening opening of her vagina. With three fingers she began vigorously rubbing her clitoris, while the other hand moved over her cunt, spreading the slippery wetness everywhere. With each stroke she thrust her hips against her hand; her clitoris tingled and burned with pleasure. She felt her orgasm building deep within her, rising and swelling as she rapidly reached the point of no return. She switched to hard, fast up and down motions on her clit, and roughly plunged her fingers deep into her vagina.

She looked into her masked face in the mirror, and gasped. As the mask flattened against her face again, the orgasm flooded over her.

A shudder wracked her whole body as her cunt clutched desperately at the invading fingers. She groaned deeply, feeling the tremendous tightening of her whole body as the force of the orgasm overpowered her. Her legs collapsed, leaving her slumped down in the chair, convulsing with pleasure as the contractions that had started deep in her being spread rapidly to her vagina. Her cunt continued to contract in violent jerks which slowly gave way to constant trembling as the orgasm waned. Why, it’s fibrillating, Karen thought to herself, and smiled through the silken veil of pleasure. She remained in her chair, totally relaxed, and took a few slow, deep breaths.

After a few minutes she stood up, albeit slowly and unsteadily. She smoothed down her dress and gown, and took a good look at herself. Good news, she thought: the operation was a success. Slowly she peeled off her gloves, inhaling the aroma of her juices mingled with the latex. Someday, she knew, she would have to fuck like this. And maybe it’d be her very first time. A surgical procedure to lose my cherry, she thought as she reached up to untie her mask. But already she was looking forward to her next “solo” procedure.

February 2, 2009 Posted by | Fetish | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments