The next morning, Matt snapped awake, the sharp “Beep…Beep…” of the heart rate monitor jolting him from his strange dreamless slumber. His head was clear, no trace of midazolam’s haze was with him still, his body heavy against the cold surgical table.

The room was bathed in a soft glow from the dim pot lights, casting gentle shadows, the smell of the antiseptic and linger scent of sex and latex sharp in his nose. His wrists and body ached as he tugged at the Velcro straps holding him, his legs still spread wide in padded stirrups, the restraints biting his skin.

Matt’s thoughts: God it was not a dream I’m trapped in Chelsey’s private medical suite, strapped to this damn table like a prisoner. Yesterday’s sex god that truly did happen, I fucked my mother-in-law, her dripping pussy sinking onto my cock, her surgical gown swaying as she rode me, her screaming “Cum for your nurse!” Those words are burned into my mind.

I have betrayal Claire, my wife, she Chelsey’s own daughter from god sakes, and the guilt is like a knife in my gut, twisting painful with every memory.

Sadly the sex was the hottest thing I’ve ever felt in my life, her latex gloves gripping me, her scent consuming me, but it’s so wrong. I need to fight, to escape back to my Claire, but my body still craves Chelsey’s touch, her kinky medical fetish has me.

What’s happening to me? I’m fully awake, my mind is now clear, but I’m terrified I’m already hers, caught in this medical sex web she’s spun.

Matt could feel a cocktail of sad emotions and shame twisting his gut, his heart rate spiking to 100 bpm, his body tense, torn between panic, guilt, and lingering arousal.

Matt’s internal thoughts: I can still feel her pussy how it gripped me, her screams echoing, calling me her forbidden lover. I’ve betrayed my marriage, my vows to Claire, but Chelsey in her surgical gown, her latex gloves, her nurses power it’s everything I’ve fantasized about in my secret medical fetish. Now it’s real, and I’m scared I can’t resist her, even knowing how deeply wrong and fucked up this is.

He scanned the room, seeing the blinking camera on the tripod catching his eye, as the monitors glowing faintly, the blanket’s edge slightly askew, he felt vulnerable and conflicted in the room as he waited for Chelsey.

After a few minutes the door opened and Chelsey swept into the medical suite, hitting a button as she entered, the pot lights flaring to full brightness, casting the room in a vivid, bright light.

She was dressed in a jade green scrub top and pant set, the top hugging her 36DD breasts, its fabric taut against her sexy curves, the pants clinging to her curvy hips and thighs, all showcasing her rather sexy body.

Her eyes sparkled with unrestrained joy, her bright smile radiant and animated as she chirped, “Good morning, Matt, my darling! I’m absolutely thrilled to see your awake and alert, my perfect patient, and ready for another day in my care.”

She glided to his side, her scrubs swishing softly, the fabric whispering against her skin, her nurse clogs tapping on the sterile floor with a soft click.

“Yesterday’s sex was life changing, Matt,” she continued, her voice bubbling with excitement, leaning close, her floral perfume mixing with the antiseptic smell of her scrubs.

“The way your cock filled my pussy, your cum flooding my womb, it’s awakened something wild inside me, something I thought was long dead. Today, we’ll dive deeper into our forbidden medical world, my darling. I’ve got such plans for you so many kinky medical games, and procedures to keep you perfect and mine, all in my medical suite where you belong. You felt it too, didn’t you? The way our bodies connected, your medical fetish for my surgical attire fueling every thrust inside me, its destiny, Matt, you and I were made for each other, to be together forever.”

Her hazel eyes sparkled with lustful possessive fervor, her hands gesturing animatedly.

She slowly peeled back the blanket, its soft fabric rustling, revealing Matt’s restrained body naked again, her fingers lingering on his skin, tracing his arm with a deliberate touch, a she folded the blanket neatly and set it on a nearby stand.

She checked the Velcro straps, their edges frayed slightly from his continued struggles, running her hands over them gently on to ensure they still held firmly, the straps creaking softly.

“I need to keep you secure, my love I know the strap are starting to get uncomfortable but I will have new soft ones for you soon,” she said, her voice warm but edged with control, “I can’t have you moving during today’s special medical procedure. I’m going to take such good care of you, Matt, using all my skills and tools, keeping you healthy, happy, and completely mine.”

Matt’s internal thoughts: Her voice is so warm, so inviting, but it’s a trap. I betrayed Claire yesterday, and the guilt is eating me alive. I need to escape, to get back to my wife, but Chelsey’s presence is intoxicating, her scrubs hugging her sexy curves, pulling my medical fetish in. I’m terrified of what she’s planning, and I don’t know if I can resist her.

He watched as she grabbed a purple stethoscope, its metal glinting under the bright pot lights, the disc swaying as she draped it around her neck, the earpieces dangling.

She snapped on purple latex gloves, the rubber squeaking sharply as they stretched over her hands, the cuffs snapping against her wrists, the faint scent of rubber mixing with her perfume.

Leaning close, her scrub top rustling, she pressed the stethoscope’s cold disc to his chest, making him flinch, its chill biting his skin. Her gloved fingers tilted his chin, checking his pupils, her touch lingering as she leaned in to gaze into his eyes, her breath warm against his face.

“Your heart’s nice and strong, Matt, 100 bpm, just perfect for what’s to come,” she cooed, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “We have such a fun day ahead, don’t we? I can still feel you inside me, your cock making me scream, and I know you loved it too your medical fetish for my surgical gowns and latex gloves, it’s what binds us. I’m going to make you perfect today, my darling, and we’ll explore so much more together I promise.”

Her voice was a sultry purr, her gloved hand gently stroking his cheek, latex squeaking softly, her scent enveloping him.

Matt’s internal thoughts: Her touch is electric, stirring my medical fetish despite myself. I love Claire, and I need to fight this, to break free from these straps and run. But her eyes are so intense, her voice pulling me into her world. I’m scared of what she’ll do next, but part of me still wants to know and craves her medical dominance. I need to speak say something

Chelsey glided to a corner cabinet, her clogs tapping, her scrubs rustling softly, and retrieved a collapsible IV stand, its metal frame clinking as she extended it with a smooth click. She hung a 500 mL bag of saline, its clear fluid sloshing gently, the plastic crinkling loudly as she secured it to the stand’s hook, the bag swaying gently.

“Just a little hydration for you, my love, to keep you strong for our special day,” she cooed, her voice warm and nurse like, as she wheeled the stand beside the exam table, its wheels squeaking faintly on the sterile floor.

She checked the IV line in Matt’s arm, her gloved fingers tracing the catheter site, the latex squeaking as she pressed gently to ensure the tape was still secure, the tubing free of kinks, the skin around it slightly red but intact.

“Perfect, darling, this will keep you comfortable,” she murmured, connecting the saline bag’s tubing to the IV port, the connector clicking softly, the drip starting with a rhythmic patter, the fluid glistening in the clear tubing under the bright pot lights.

She adjusted the drip rate, the roller clamp clicking softly, ensuring a steady flow, the saline’s faint trickle echoing in the quiet suite.

She then walked to the storage room at the back of the suite, her scrubs catching the light with each sultry step, the fabric whispering against her curves, the faint outline of her ass visible through the tight pants.

The storage room, lined with shelves stocked with medical supplies, surgical tools, sterile trays, and spare surgical attire, held her prized possessions a anesthesia machine a cutting-edge model with digital monitors, coiled black hoses, and a full array rubber masks and supplies.

She had secured it secretly during the hospital’s chaotic renovation several years ago when outdated equipment was discarded, and this was mislabeled as old. It had been scheduled for destruction till she liberated.

Her thoughts: This machine is my treasure, a state of the art beauty I snagged during the hospital’s renovation, complete with every type of mask and supply I need. It’s perfect for Matt, will keep him hazy but awake for the circumcision, my scalpel sculpting his cock, my pussy is already tingling with the thrill of it!

She glided to the back, peeling back the plastic protective wrap, its crinkling loud as she revealed her prized anesthesia machine, its silver surface gleaming under the bright pot lights, the faint chemical scent of protective plastic wafting up.

She began wiping the machine down with a sterile cloth, the faint chemical scent intensifying, and checked the hoses, their rubber smooth under her gloved fingers, adjusting the oxygen valve with a precise click.

She checked the oxygen tank’s gauge, its needle ticking softly to indicate a full supply, and coiled the spare tubing neatly, its rubber rustling faintly.

She wheeled the machine out, the rubber wheels squeaking on the sterile floor, as she positioned it behind Matt’s head, out of his sight, the hoses swaying gently, their metal connectors clinking softly.

Chelsey plugged the machine in, the cord snapping into the outlet with a sharp click, the faint buzz of electricity humming through the unit.

She powered it on, the machine coming alive with a low, steady hum, its digital screen flickering with green diagnostic readouts, a series of soft beeps signaling it was starting a system checks, the numbers scrolling oxygen flow at 2 L/min, pressure stable. She than retrieved a black rubber mask and rested it on the machine’s tray, its cushioned rim catching the light, a faint rubber scent drifting up.

She opened a locked drawer, its key jangling, and retrieved a 20 mL vial of propofol, its milky liquid swirling under the light, and an infusion pump, its plastic casing glinting, the digital display now blank but ready.

Her thoughts: Propofol’s my choice its milky haze will keep Matt awake but able to talk as I circumcise him, my scalpel carving him perfectly, my body alive with this control.

She loaded the vial into the pump, the device clicking as it locked, the tubing snapping into place with a faint pop.

She adjusted the flow rate, the keypad beeping softly, setting it to a slow drip, the pump’s faint whir starting as it primed the system. She tested the mask’s seal, pressing it against her gloved hand, the latex squeaking, the rubber scent intensifying. Her eyes gleamed with anticipation, her fingers lingering on the controls, the machine’s hum a steady pulse in the medical suite.

Matt heard all the sounds behind him as he tried to move, his heart rate spiking to 102 bpm. As he imagined what she was doing.

Matt’s internal thoughts: What is that…sound wheels? What it is that beep what so she doing. I’m scared she’s bringing out something new, something dangerous. I’m strapped down, helpless, and I need to get out before she does something worse. But her surgical scrubs, her confidence, they’re pulling at my medical fetish, and I hate myself for it. I’m too weak to break this restraints all I can do is convince her to let me go.

Intimate Chat

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chelsey pulled over a tall rolling a stool and positioned it beside Matt’s head, sitting close, her jade scrub top and pants rustling softly as she leaned forward, her face inches from his, her hazel eyes sparkling with a radiant, almost feverish joy, combined with a possessive glint that sent a chill through him.

Her smile was wide and vibrant, her face glowing as if five years younger, the faint scent of her floral perfume mingling with the antiseptic and latex in the air.

The stethoscope dangled around her neck, its tubing brushing her scrub top, the purple earpieces swaying gently.

“Let’s have a little chat, my darling, just you and me, before we dive into today’s special procedure,” she purred, her voice warm and intimate.

Her purple latex gloved hand brushed his cheek, the rubber squeaking softly, then traced his jaw with a lingering touch, her fingers grazing his lips.

“Oh, Matt, my darling, you’ve stolen my heart,” she began, her tone lovely yet controlling, her eyes locking onto his, flickering between tender adoration and dangerous obsession.

“Last night’s sex was incredible, my love, unlike anything I’ve ever felt. The way your cock filled my pussy, each thrust hitting me so deep inside, it sent shivers through my core, I had three incredible orgasms; first when you pressed against my womb, then when my clit pulsed against you, and finally when your cum flooded inside me, warm and pulsing it was pure ecstasy.”

“Our chemistry is electric, my darling, our bodies were moving in perfect sync, your desire feeding mine, every moan and shudder binding us tighter. I’ve never felt so alive, so consumed by someone. And the surgical PPE oh, my love, the way my surgical gown crinkled against your skin, the squeak of my latex gloves as I gripped you, the surgical mask brushing my lips as I rode you it set my soul on fire, amplifying every sensation.”

“I’ve always had a medical fetish, buried deep, craving the sterile thrill of surgical gloves and surgical gowns, the power of controlling a body under my care, but you, Matt, you’ve awakened it fully. Your submission to my touch, your arousal at my medical cloths, it’s unlocked something in me I thought was lost forever.”

“You’ve given me a new chance at life, darling, a purpose to explore every sexual medical kinky I have dreamed of doing. I can already picture a catheters sliding into you, sounding rods teasing your urethra, restraints holding you completely mine as I make you moan and call out my name.”

“This medical suite is our sanctuary, Matt, where our medical fetishes collide, and I can live out every sexual fantasy with you. I love you so deeply, my heart aches for you, and I’m never letting you go you’re my everything, my perfect partner in this forbidden medical world.”

She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear, her gloved fingers trailing down his neck, the latex squeaking, her touch sending a shiver through him. Her voice was a sultry melody, her eyes gleaming with a desire and a dangerous intensity, her gloved hand resting on his chest, the latex squeaking as she pressed gently, feeling his heartbeat.

She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, her lips warm, then whispered against his skin, “I love you so deeply, Matt, my body aches for you, you’re mine now, and no one else will ever have you.”

Matt’s internal thoughts: Her words are intoxicating, painting our sex as this unstoppable force, but her obsession terrifies me. The PPE, her gloves, they’re my medical fetish too, pulling me in, but I love Claire, and this is so wrong I’m trapped in her world.

She leaned back slightly, her scrub top rustling, a knowing smile spreading across her lips as she gave her head a small shake, her hazel eyes softening.

“Oh, darling, I’m getting off topic with all this lovely sex and medical fetish passion,” she said, her voice slipping into a more clinical, nurse like tone again, still laced with possessive warmth. “Let’s focus on what’s next, my love your surgical procedure.”

Her gaze sharpened, her smile carrying a dangerous determination as she continued, “Today, I’m going to be performing a circumcision surgery on you, my darling, to make your Penis even more beautiful, smooth and perfect for me your sexy nurse. I’ll use a precise scalpel cut to sculpt it, creating a flawless canvas for our future sex games, a symbol of how you now belong to me. I’ll also going to do a few additional surgical biopsies to ensure your body is completely healthy and perfect for me, so every part of you is ready for our medical sex adventures together.”

Her purple latex gloved fingers trailed down his chest, the rubber squeaking as she reached for his partially hard cock, gripping it firmly, her touch sending a jolt through him.

Matt’s internal thoughts: Her plans are a nightmare, chaining me to her, but her grip, her voice, they’re all stoking my medical fetish. I love Claire my wife, I know I’ve betrayed her, and Chelsey my mother in law is unhinged she’s got me, and I’m terrified but also I’m excited how fucking messed up is that.

Matt gasped aloud, his eyes widening with alarm, his body jerking against the Velcro straps, the restraints creaking loudly. As he realized during this whole time entire time he had been too stunned to actually speak.

“Chelsey, please stop this is insane!” he shouted, his voice trembling with desperation. “You’re not thinking clearly you need to stop this is fucking crazy, Chelsey! I won’t let you cut part of my penis off! I love Claire, my wife, and what we did it was incredible I won’t lie but it was a mistake! You’re losing it and have obviously been stressed out and need a mental health break! Just let me go, I’m begging you and we can forget all of this and go back to our normal family relationship and get you some nice therapy!”

His heart rate spiked to 108 bpm on the monitor, his face flushed with panic, his eyes pleading as he tugged harder against the straps, his head jerking from side to side, straining against the table’s padded rest.

Matt’s internal thoughts: I need to get out, to run back to Claire and beg forgiveness. I can explain everything say it was the drugs and that her mother has slightly lost her mind. God if she does the circumcisions surgery and the biopsies, and all the kinky games can I hold out? Chelsey so determined that look in her eyes it’s love but it’s obsessive and consuming. But her latex gloves, her voice and promise of fulfilling my every wish, is pulling at my sexual desires and fantasies, and I hate myself for it as I want it so bad I’m tired of living in a sexual dead marriage!

Chelsey’s eyes darkened, a chilling smile spreading as she stood, and walked to a cabinet, her clogs tapping rhythmically. “Oh my darling, the fight in your eyes and feeble words are adorable, but you’re not going anywhere,” she murmured, her voice low and dangerous, her purple latex gloved fingers tapping her chin, rubber squeaking.

She paused and watched Matt wildly moving head “But you are jerking your head around too much, my love, I’ll need to secure it to keep you safe for the surgery.”

She retrieved a head harness from a drawer, its leather straps and metal buckles clinking softly, as she returned and leaned over Matt, her scrub top brushing his chest.

She secured the harness around his head, the leather straps sliding through the buckles with a soft clink, tightening them until his head was pinned firmly against the table’s padded rest, the restraints biting slightly into his skin as he tried to thrash harder. “Enough, Matt my love, stop resisting me,” she warned, her voice sharp yet sultry, her hazel eyes boring into his.

“I don’t want to have to gag you, darling, because I need your verbal responses to gauge how you’re handling the surgery and anesthesia, to make sure you’re doing alright. You need to accept the surgery is happening, Matt. If you keep fighting me, things will get… more concerning for you.”

She paused, her gloved hand hovering over his chest, latex gleaming under the pot lights, her expression thoughtful, a dangerous glint flickering in her eyes as she let her threat hang, her silence stretching for a tense moment.

Her thoughts: His fight and resistance fuels my desire, but I do need him compliant for this surgery. My threat should be enough I can see the fear in his eyes but also arousal my darling patient seems to like his nurse to be controlling and dominate. God this power and control are delicious so getting so tuned on.

Matt’s body trembled, his struggles ceasing, his eyes wide with fear, his breathing ragged as his thrashing stilled and his body quivered in the restraints.

Matt’s internal thoughts: What does ‘more concerning’ mean? More drugs to knock me out? Tighter straps? Something worse I can’t imagine? She’s truly lost it, my marriage to Claire is slipping away, but my mother in law and her latex gloves and medical fantasies, and voice pulling at my fetish, and I’m terrified I’m already hers.

Chelsey’s smile softened, her gloved hand stroking his cheek, latex squeaking softly. “I love your fight, my darling, it’s so adorable,” she cooed, her voice dripping with affection and control. “But I’m happy you’re starting to understand the situation better now. You’re mine, and this surgery will make you permanent mine, and perfect just for me.”

Matt’s thoughts: I need to escape, but I know I can’t I’m deluding myself. I want this my medical fetish and starvation for intimacy, and sex is betraying me.

Chelsey gave his cheek another tender kiss before she walked to a cabinet, her clogs tapping, her jade scrubs rustling, and retrieved a pack of fresh ECG leads, the plastic backing crinkling as she peeled it open, revealing the sticky pads, their adhesive glinting faintly.

“First, my love, we need to remove those old leads they’ve served their purpose, but I want everything fresh for your surgery,” she murmured, her voice clinical as her hazel eyes gleamed.

Her gloved fingers slowly peeled off the old heart rate leads from Matt’s chest, the adhesive ripping away softly, leaving faint red marks on his chest as she tossed them into a biohazard bin with a soft thud, the lid clanging shut.

“A clean canvas for my care,” she said, gently pressing a fresh ECG lead onto his chest below his left collarbone, the adhesive crackling as it adhered. Matt’s breathing quickened, his body trembling, his voice shaky as he interrupted, “Please just stop this I don’t need a surgery just let me go please?” He could feel his heart beating faster, his eyes darting around nervously.

Chelsey’s gloved hand brushed his cheek tenderly, her voice soothing, “Shh, my love, you will be fine and these monitors will keep you safe. I know you’re nervous about the surgery but I will be monitoring your heart’s rhythm, darling, ensuring every beat is strong for me during your surgery.”

She placed three more leads right collarbone, below his ribs coiling their wires neatly, her touch deliberate, nitrile squeaking as she smoothed each sensor.

Matt jerked slightly against the straps, his voice trembling, “Please just stop and why so many? This is not necessary just let me go please?”

Chelsey leaned closer, her breath warm, her eyes locking onto his. “Oh, darling, this is all to keep you safe and mine,” she cooed, her tone clinical yet possessive, her gloved fingers lingering on his chest as she caressed his skin.

Matt’s internal thoughts: Her calm precision is terrifying each sensor traps me more. I know she’s planning more but her voice, it’s so tender and caring even if it’s misplaced I see that look in her here’s and wish Clair still looked at me like that with such obsessive love.

She retrieved a blood pressure cuff, its Velcro rasping as she unfolded it, wrapping it snugly around Matt’s left arm, her gloved fingers adjusting it, nitrile squeaking.

“This cuff will measure your blood pressure, my love, ensuring your cardiovascular stability while I’m operating on you,” she explained, her voice clinical, her touch lingering as she coiled the wires beside his arm.

Matt’s chest heaved, his breathing shallow, his voice cracking, “Why do you need to monitor everything? Please, just tell me!” Chelsey’s gloved hand stroked his arm, nitrile squeaking, her smile reassuring. “Shh, my sweet, it’s to make sure you’re perfect for me, every reading telling me you’re safe and stable as I operate on you,” she murmured, her eyes gleaming with control.

Matt’s internal thoughts: She’s going to monitor every part of me it’s suffocating, yet she is so calm so clinical about it and yet so possessive. I don’t know how to feel I’m trapped but I can tell Chelsey does care even if she is not acting rationally right now.

Next she clipped a pulse oximeter onto his right index finger, its plastic cool, snapping softly. “This sensor monitors your oxygen saturation, darling, ensuring you’re breathing perfectly while under the effects of the anesthesia,” her tone precise yet warm, adjusting it with a gentle touch, nitrile squeaking, her breath close.

Matt’s finger twitched, his voice trembling, “This seems like over kill! You’re scaring me why do I need all this for this simply surgery!” Chelsey’s gloved fingers brushed his hand, nitrile squeaking, her voice soothing, “Hush, my love, it’s just to properly monitory you so I know your safe, to keep your oxygen levels perfect for the surgery.”

She affixed a temperature probe to his left earlobe, its cool metal brushing his skin, and making him shiver. “This probe monitors your temperature, my sweet, because I need every part of you to be monitored,” she murmured, her gloved fingers lingering.

Matt’s body trembled, his voice faint, “Please… just stop let’s talk about this?” Chelsey leaned in, her gloved hand stroking his cheek, latex squeaking, her eyes soft but commanding. “Shhh Matt no more talking this is happening just breath, you’re safe and mine through every step of the surgery,” she cooed, her tone reassuring yet unyielding.

Chelsey stepped back, her clogs tapping, her scrubs rustling, and surveyed the varies unconnected sensors, their wires coiled neatly. “You’re almost ready, my love, for your surgery,” she purred, retrieving two additional monitor screens, their sleek surfaces glinting. “These will display your vitals heart, breath, temperature all mine to monitor and keep you safe,” she said, wheeling them beside the table, their wheels squeaking.

She powered the monitors on each screen flickering to life with a soft hum, and began connecting all the sensors, wires rustling, connectors clicking.

The ECG leads came to life the steady beep…..beep echoing quietly in the room registering 114 bpm, the cuff inflated with a hum, showing 130/85 mmHg, the pulse oximeter glowed red at 98%, and the temperature probe beeped at 98.6°F.

Matt watched Chelsey synced the all monitors to an iPad she pulled out, its screen glowing, her gloved fingers tapping, latex gloves squeaking.

“Now, my love, you’re linked to me, every breath, beat and beep safe in my hands,” she purred, her eyes gleaming with happiness.

Matt’s internal thoughts: The monitors trap me in her web her medical precision terrifies me, but her medical skills feed my fetish. I need to escape, before she starts the surgery or I will be too drugged and weak to stop her but I’m already drowning in her control. But……I know can’t escape I can’t force these restraints off and I’m deluding myself.

Chelsey walked behind him to the anesthesia machine, her clogs tapping, and picked up the black rubber full-face mask, its cushioned rim glinting, the faint rubber scent wafting up.

Her thoughts: This full-face mask might overwhelm him for his first ever anaesthesia experience, and I need him not to panic and be calm during the surgery.

“Hmmm no, my darling, I think a full-face mask is too much for your first time,” she murmured, setting it down with a soft clink. She swished to the storage room, her scrubs rustling, and returned with three different nasal masks pink, clear, and a green one, their plastic curves catching the light.

“Let’s find the perfect fit for you my love,” she said, pressing the pink mask against Matt’s nose, its rim too small. “Too small,” she said, her purple latex gloved fingers adjusting, rubber squeaking.

The clear mask was too loose, so she set it aside with a rustle. The green mask fit snugly, its cushioned rim sealing perfectly. “Perfect, fit for you Matt,” she cooed, connecting the nasal mask to the rubber tubing with a soft click, the tubing hissing as she secured it.

She snuggled the nasal mask onto Matt’s face, straps clicking, Matt’s muffled groans getting more frantic, his heart rate spiking to 116 bpm.

She than walked to a cabinet, her clogs tapping, her jade scrubs rustling, and retrieved a heavy-duty deep green surgical gown, and several packets of surgical gloves (white and green), along with a green surgical cap, and a green surgical mask, their packaging crinkling softly.

She moved to a sterile mayo stand, its metal surface gleaming, and meticulously laid the PPE out on it: the deep green surgical gown folded neatly, its waterproof coating shimmering; the surgical glove packets beside them; the green surgical cap and mask stacked carefully, their elastic and ties rustling faintly.

Her thoughts: Every detail must be perfect, for Matt’s surgery I’ll do it to make him mine forever a fresh new cock for my pussy alone.

She moved to the sink, her clogs tapping, and washed her hands with sterilizing soap, her movements meticulous, scrubbing under each nail with a small brush, the sharp antiseptic scent filling the air, bubbles foaming thickly, droplets pattering onto the floor as she rinsed thoroughly for five minutes, her fingers pink from the scrubbing. She dried her hands with a sterile towel, its fabric rustling, the faint damp scent lingering.

Returning to the mayo stand, she unfolded the deep green surgical gown, its thick, waterproof fabric crinkling loudly, the front and sleeves reinforced with a glossy coating designed for bloody procedures, reflecting the pot lights.

She slipped it on, the fabric rustling sharply as she pulled it over her scrubs, securing it with a special tie at the back that tightened around her with a firm tug, the excess tie dangling at her front, swaying as she moved.

Her thoughts: This surgical gown is my armor, for his surgery, ready for the blood and precision of sculpting my love’s penis for me alone.

She opened a packet of white surgical gloves, the plastic crinkling, and pulled them on, stretching the latex tightly over her hands, the latex squeak sharp as the cuffs snapped against her wrists, ensuring a snug fit.

She picked up and adjusted the green surgical cap, its elastic rustling as it snapped over her hair, carefully tucking any loose stray hairs under it with precision, the cap hugging her scalp.

She tied the green surgical mask, its splash-resistant, pleated fabric rustling, as she secured the bottom ties tightly behind her neck, the ties pulling slightly at her neck so the mask dangled at her chest.

Finally, she opened one of the sterile packets of green surgical gloves, the plastic crinkling loudly, as the sterile latex smell wafting up as she carefully pulled them over the white surgical gloves, the green latex gleaming under the lights, squeaking sharply.

Matt’s internal thoughts: Her meticulous prep is terrifying, the surgical gown’s splash protection screaming blood she’s ready for this to get messy. Her surgical outfit looks so sexy, the whole outfit feeds my medical fetish, I’m trapped I know it theirs no way to stop the surgery now I’m doomed.

She returned to the head of the table, her clogs tapping, her deep green surgical gown crinkling, its waterproof coating gleaming, the green surgical mask dangling at her chest, its strings swaying, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

She started the anesthesia machine flow

with a hum as oxygen began flowing, its hiss steady through the green nasal mask, and programmed it to introduce the propofol slowly, the keypad beeping softly, the pump’s whir starting faintly.

“Just breathe, darling, it’s only oxygen

to start so breathe nice and deeply with me,” she cooed, her voice soothing yet laced with deceptiveness, her green surgical gloved fingers brushing his cheek gently, latex squeaking.

Matt’s eyes widened, his heart rate spiking to 118 bpm, as he smelled a sweet, chemical scent filling his nose as the oxygen and propofol mix flowed, into the nasal mask and his panic surged.

Matt’s internal thoughts: Whats that sweet smell it’s not just oxygen, she’s lying! What’s she pumping into me?

His voice slurred, “You’re lying…this isn’t just oxygen…smells sweet please stop it’s not too late” his pleas trembling as a hazy, dreamlike feeling started to creep over him, his head started to get heavy, his finger tips and toes began to tingling faintly.

Chelsey leaned closer, her surgical mask brushing his head, her eyes soft but commanding. “Shh, my darling, just keep breathing deeply for me,” she soothed, her green surgical gloved hand continuing to stroke his cheek, latex squeaking. “You’ll be feeling relaxed and hazy in just a moment, my love, all safe in your surgical nurses hands.”

Matt’s internal thoughts: The haze feeling is swallowing me, that sweet scent keeps pulling me further under it’s some kind of drug, not just oxygen. I’m trapped, my medical fetish betraying me, as I’m so aroused even in this moment as I’m terrified.

Chelsey walked to a cabinet, her clogs tapping, her deep green surgical gown crinkling sharply, its waterproof coating glinting, and retrieved a full-body sterile green drape, its crisp folds rustling as she opened it up and unfolded it. She draped it over Matt’s body, the cool fabric brushing his skin, covering him from chest to upper thighs, leaving his pelvic region exposed.

She then positioned a fenestrated sterile drape over his pelvis region, with a small hole framing his partially erect penis, the fabric rustling, making him flinch, his hazy arousal spiking.

“These surgical drapes will maintain a sterile field, my love, using aseptic technique to ensure your procedure during the surgery,” she explained, her voice clinical yet charged with erotic excitement, her green surgical gloved fingers smoothing the drape, latex squeaking.

She unfolded another smaller surgical drape that she unfolded and lay on this chest. “I’m setting up a surgical screen to block your view, of your penis during the surgery my darling, because this surgery will be rather bloody which is typical with circumcisions, and I don’t want that scare you.”

She erected the small drape screen across his waist, its fabric rustling, obscuring his view of his penis.

Her green surgical gloved hand touched his face gently, latex squeaking, her eyes softening as she spoke. “Everything will be fine, my love, I promise you’ll adore how sexy your penis will look after you heal and how good sex will feel,” she cooed, her tone reassuring yet possessive.

Matt’s internal thoughts: The screen hides it, but I know she’s going to cut me soon and there will be blood, it’s terrifying, but her surgical gloves, her voice, they stir my fetish, I’m helpless under her surgical control.

Her clogs tapped as she walked to storage

room, her deep green surgical gown crinkling, its dangling front tie swaying, and retrieved another mayo stand, its wheels squeaking as she positioned it by a cabinet and unfolded a sterile cloth over the mayo stand, its fabric rustling.

She pulled out surgical tools and began positioned each tool meticulously, their metal glinting under the lights: No. 15 scalpel, its blade glinting; a Gomco clamp, its metal clanking; hemostats, their jaws clicking; surgical scissors, their steel gleaming; sutures, their packet crinkling; and stacks of sterile gauze and bandages, their folds rustling.

Under her breath, she murmured, “Scalpel for precision… clamp for stability… hemostats for possible bleeders…” her voice was low and clinical, but laced with excitement, Matt hazily catching fragments of her talk, his heart rate spiking to 120 bpm.

Matt’s internal thoughts: Her murmurs scalpels, clamps, gauze for the blood it’s really going to happen, she’s going to start the surgery and cut off part of my penis!

She then retrieved a red bio hazard bin for the blood gauze, and skin, its plastic bag crinkling softly. She wheeled both the stand and bin between Matt’s legs, their wheels squeaking, as the tools rattled softly.

Her thoughts: Every tool, every stitch, is for my darling Matt, to sculpt him and make him mine forever!

She moved to the side of the table to adjust the surgical lights overhead, pressing a foot pedal with a soft click, the powerful surgical lights snapped on with a grinding hum, their bright beams blazing to life, casting a stark glow across the medical suite.

She adjusted the angle with the pedal, the lights humming as they tilted, focusing a brilliant spotlight onto Matt’s exposed penis, the skin glistening through the fenestrated drape, its veins faintly visible under the taut surface.

Matt’s internal thoughts: The light’s blinding, pinning me down she’s now ready to operate, and I’m terrified, but her precision and sexy outfit pulls at my medical fetish god I’m such a freak!

Chelsey returned to the head of the table, her clogs tapping, her deep green surgical gown crinkling, its waterproof coating reflecting the light, and checked the anesthesia machines controls, her green surgical gloved fingers fine tuning the propofol flow, the keypad beeping softly, the pump’s whir adjusting as she typed.

She glanced at the monitors ECG at 120 bpm, blood pressure 132/86 mmHg, oxygen saturation 98%, temperature 98.6°F her eyes scanning the data with clinical precision.

“How are you doing, my love?” she asked, her voice soft but commanding, as she smiled faintly. Matt’s voice slurred, “Please… don’t do this…” his pleas faint, his body trembling.

Chelsey’s green surgical gloved hand stroked his cheek softly, the latex squeaking, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Don’t look so scared my love this is all for the best, darling, I promise your penis will look so pretty when I’m done,” she cooed, her tone reassuring yet possessive, the surgical mask’s dangling tie brushing his cheek softly.

Matt’s internal thoughts: Her promises terrify me, and I’m powerless, the haze is pulling me deeper, and this whole crazy thing turns me on and is making me so aroused.

She dimmed the pot lights with a switch, their glow fading with a soft hum, amplifying the surgical light’s focus on Matt’s penis, and the clinical atmosphere.

She reached for the ties of her green surgical mask, its strings swaying, and pulled the top ties up, tying it tightly behind her head, the pleated fabric stretching taut over her mouth, rustling softly as she covered her mouth and nose, leaving only her beautiful hazel eyes, gleaming above the surgical mask with excitement.

She slipped on loupe magnifying glasses, their lenses glinting as she adjusted them, sharpening her view his penis ready in the surgical field, and bent toward Matt’s exposed penis, her surgical gown rustling, the mask’s pleats creasing faintly as she exhaled.

She nodded and glided to the mayo stand, opening a fresh packet of green surgical gloves, the plastic crinkling loudly, a sterile scent wafting as she snapped off the old ones and pulled on fresh ones, the green latex squeaking sharply, gleaming under the bright surgical light.

“We’re all set to start the operation, my darling, everything’s set and ready for you,” she said, her voice vibrating with excitement, but muffled slightly by the surgical mask.

She surveyed the scene: her deep green surgical gown with splash protection crinkling softly, the green surgical mask taut across her face, the mayo stand laden with glinting surgical tools, the red bio bin ready, the monitors beeping steadily, the nasal mask hissing, and Matt’s exposed penis illuminated under the surgical light, framed by the fenestrated drape, hard and pale.

Matt’s internal thoughts: My thoughts are getting all fuzzy……her surgical gown and latex look so sexy………..god it’s a turn on………wish it was just sex again……..as it’s my medical fetish come to life, but those eyes scream danger. I……I……fight this it’s happening and I’m hers in this moment.

Her thoughts: Everything’s perfect, for my love his body, my tools, our medical suite sanctuary. It’s all perfect, now let’s make begin and make his penis beautiful and mine forever!

Chelsey stood between Matt’s spread open legs, her deep green surgical gown crinkling softly, its waterproof coating gleaming, her surgical gloved hands poised, the latex squeaking faintly as she flexed her fingers.

As she gazed at Matt’s exposed penis. A thrilling wave of emotions coursing through her as she prepared to operate on Matt’s gorgeous penis and make him permanently hers!

End: Chapter 4