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

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

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