The sterile surgical suite hummed with activity, Chelsey, Matts mother-in-law had meticulously prepared Matt for his surgery, her hazel eyes gleaming with possessive excitement above her green surgical mask.

She had announced her plan to perform a circumcision surgery on Matt to sculpt his penis into a “smooth and perfect masterpiece” for her alone, followed by multiple surgical biopsies to ensure he was completely healthy, her voice clinical yet laced with dangerous chilling crazy affection.

Matt, strapped to the table with Velcro restraints, his head pinned by a leather head harness, had protested in panic, his pleas to stop the surgery drowned out by the deepening haze of propofol drugs.

Chelsey now pristine in full PPE gowned in a deep green surgical gown, its waterproof fabric crinkling loudly, her green surgical mask tight, snapped on green surgical gloves, the latex squeaking as she flexed her fingers.

She adjusted the surgical light to focus the beam on Matt’s exposed penis, framed by the sterile draping, his taut penis glistening, her loupe glasses glinting as she bent forward, ready to begin the surgery.

Chelsey stood at the mayo stand between Matt’s spread open legs, her deep green surgical gown crinkling softly, its waterproof coating gleaming under the surgical light, her double gloved green surgical gloves poised, their latex squeaking faintly as she flexed her fingers, her loupe glasses sharpening her view of Matt’s exposed penis, its pale, skin stretched tightly through the fenestrated drape, faint blue veins threading beneath the surface, the pink head partially visible under the thin, retractable foreskin, its edge glistening.

The monitors beeped steadily ECG at 80 bpm, blood pressure 110/70 mmHg, oxygen saturation 98%, temperature 98.6°F the nasal mask hissing as propofol flowed, keeping Matt in a deep dreamlike state.

The surgical screen blocked his view of what was to come, his head pinned by the harness, his body trembling faintly against the Velcro straps. As he watched Chelsey face Her green surgical mask creased faintly as she smiled, her hazel eyes gleaming with clinical focus and subtle excitement, her surgical gown crinkling as her body shifted with anticipation.

Moving to the anesthesia machine, her clogs tapping, Chelsey slid open a drawer with a faint click and retrieved a penlight, its metal clicking as she activated it.

She leaned close, her green surgical gloved fingers gently holding open Matt’s eyelid as she shone the light into his left eye, then his right, watching the pupil response.

“Your pupils are responding well, darling, shrinking nicely when I shine the light,” she murmured, her voice soothing, her loupe glasses glinting as she smiled behind the mask.

Picking up a clipboard from the anesthesia machine, she jotted, “Patients pupil response normal and reactive,” the pen scratching softly.

She then grasped her stethoscope, inserting the rubber earpieces with a faint pop, and pressed the bell to Matt’s chest, her surgical gloves squeaking as she adjusted it, the metal cool against his skin, his heart thumping steadily in her ears.

Pressing two gloved fingers to his wrist, the latex squeaking faintly, she counted his pulses. “Your heart’s beating so beautifully, my love, strong at 80 beats per minute, matching everything perfectly,” she cooed, her surgical gown crinkling as she leaned closer, the mask’s taut fabric creasing faintly.

“We’re going to start the surgery now, my love, soon your cock will look so pretty, just lay still and let me take care of everything ok.”

Matt slurred, “Please… nooo… Chelsey…” his voice dazed and slurry, his head lolling faintly against the harness. “Shhh, it will be alright, sweetheart,” Chelsey soothed, her voice intimate and reassuring, her hazel eyes softening above the mask.

She stepped back, her nurse’s clogs tapping, and returned to the mayo stand between Matt’s legs.

Picking up a 3 mL syringe filled with 1% lidocaine, its needle gleaming under the surgical light, Chelsey leaned forward, her surgical mask taut, its pleats barely moving as she exhaled.

“ Now my darling I need you to just lay still ok, I’m numbing your penis now so you won’t feel a thing as I cut,” she cooed, her voice clinical yet laced with erotic excitement, her hazel eyes gleaming above the mask. “This will make your cock so comfortable, darling, ready for me to sculpt it just for my touch.”

Her thoughts: His body’s mine, and I’m burning with desire my tampon and pad in my panties will help keep me focused.

Holding Matt’s penis gently with her left hand, the green surgical gloves squeaking against his warm pale shaft smooth under her fingers, faint veins pulsing faintly, she murmured to herself,

“First at the dorsal base for the main nerve block.” She inserted the 30-gauge needle at a 15-degree angle at the top of the penis base, feeling slight tissue resistance, as she injected 0.5 mL of lidocaine, the skin blanching momentarily as the anesthetic spread.

She palpated the area with her gloved fingers, latex squeaking, checking for swelling or irregularities, noting the skin’s firmness.

“Now the ventral base,” she continued, injecting another 0.5 mL at the bottom, the needle piercing smoothly, her fingers squeezing gently to confirm even spread.

“Left lateral side,” she said, injecting again, the skin dimpling, her gloves squeaking as she palpated the pale shaft, ensuring no hematoma.

“Finally, the right lateral side for complete coverage,” she concluded, injecting the last 0.5 mL, the needle gliding in, her fingers checking the shaft’s texture, the pink head unmoving.

She wrapped fresh gauze loosely around the base of the penis, its white fibers dotted with small spots of red blood, and pressed gently, swapping it for another, dropping the bloody gauze into the surgical bin with a thud, placing the needle in a stainless-steel kidney tray, its curved edge glinting, a faint blood smear visible.

After five minutes, she murmured, “I’m going to now check your numbness level, darling, to ensure the lidocaine fully blocks your penis nerves.” Grasping forceps, their metal clicking sharply, she performed a thorough numbness test, pinching the penile skin at five spots: base, mid-shaft, upper shaft, and both sides near the pink head, her green surgical gloves squeaking as the skin dimpled under varying pressure.

She squeezed gently with her gloved fingers at each spot, the latex creaking, and used the forceps to pinch harder near the head’s edge, its pale skin indenting, watching for twitches. Leaning closer, her loupe glasses glinting, her hazel eyes intently scanning Matt’s face, as she spoke with deep concern, “Tell me exactly what you feel, darling, I need to be absolutely sure you feel anything for your safety during the operation.”

“When I start cutting, I don’t want you to feel any pain at all your safety is everything to me, my love. Do you feel this pinch at the base?” She pinched firmly with the forceps, her gloves squeezing the shaft gently.

Matt mumbled, “Nothin’…” his voice slurred. “Good, my love, now the mid-shaft tell me, darling, any sensation here?” she asked, rotating the forceps, pressing harder, her gloves squeaking as she squeezed.

Matt slurred, “No… please…lllmmm…gooo” his head lolling. “Perfect, darling, now near the head’s side tell me if you feel this, I’m sculpting your cock so I won’t let it be painful for you,” she continued, pinching both sides near the head, its edge unmoving, her voice soft but worried.

Matt mumbled, “Nothin’… don’t…” his voice faint. “Oh, good, my love, you’re fully numbed, just as you should be,” she purred, her surgical gown crinkling as she straightened, her eyes softening with relief.

“Complete sensory block confirmed, ready for incision,” she added clinically, grabbing the clipboard and noting it down, “Full penile anesthesia achieved.”

Surgery

Glancing at the monitors, her loupe glasses glinting, she commented, “Patients heart rate is steady at 80 bpm; his blood pressure is 110/70 mmHg, perfectly stable; oxygen saturation 98%, breathing beautifully; temperature 98.6°F, just right.”

Her thoughts: His vitals are perfect, and my body’s trembling with excitement to shape his penis for me.

Leaning closer, her surgical mask creasing deeply, her hazel eyes softening, Chelsey reached for a No. 15 scalpel, its green textured handle cool in her green surgical gloved fingers, the blade glinting sharply, and cooed,

“Ok my darling, I’m starting the surgery to sculpt your cock to be mine forever, so perfect, and all for me here we go, my love, take deep breaths now, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

Her voice was sweet yet laced with obsessive desire, muffled by the mask, her eyes gleaming with possessiveness. Grasping the scalpel, she began.

Holding Matt’s penis firmly, the latex squeaking, its pale skin taut, faint veins threading beneath, the head fully exposed, she gently retracted the foreskin fully, its edge sharply defined, and pressed the scalpel’s blade lightly at the top of the penis, just below the head, feeling the tissue’s slight resistance.

She made a precise vertical cut, the blade slicing smoothly through the thin pale foreskin, blood began trickling, heavily down the shaft, the red blood stark against the penis’s pale, smooth skin, the head now fully bared, its pink, glossy surface glistening wetly.

She adjusted the gauze wrapped around the base, its fibers clinging to the bloody shaft, and swapped it for a fresh one, dropping the soaked gauze into the surgical bin with a wet thud.

Matt mumbled, “Claire… don’t let her… cut me…” his voice faint, his body twitching faintly.

Grasping a sterile swab, its cotton tip soft, Chelsey wiped the blood, the swab soaking red, and swapped it for a fresh one, dropping the used swab into the surgical bin with a wet thud.

She placed the bloody scalpel in the kidney tray, its blade smeared with crimson, clinking against the forceps. “Shh, my love everything is fine, your safe with your darling nurse just keep breathing the gas, and let me make you beautiful,” she soothed, her surgical gown crinkling, her surgical mask taut, creasing faintly as she smiled.

“Don’t worry bleeding is normal, darling, and your cock’s already looking so sexy for me just keep breath, you’re doing wonderfully, and will be done very soon.”

Her thoughts: His cock’s transforming beautifully, and my body’s trembling with excitement over it.

Picking up the scalpel again, its handle now sticky with blood, she cooed, “Now I’m circling the cut, darling, crafting your cock to be all mine just stay with me, love.”

She made a circular cut around the penis, guiding the blade smoothly, the thin, elastic foreskin parting easily, more blood, splashing heavily along the shaft to the base, soaking into the gauze wrap, its fibers soaked crimson. She swapped the gauze for a fresh one again, dropping the bloody one into the bin with a wet thud.

Grasping a hemostat, its jaws clicking, she clamped two small bleeders, the metal glinting as blood smeared the green surgical gloves, the latex glistening wetly.

Wiping the penis with a sterile swab, the liquid splashing softly, she cleared blood to reveal the clean, raw edges of the cut, the shaft’s skin taut and slightly swollen.

Matt’s slurred voice murmured, “No… my penis… stop her…” his words half coherent, his eyes fluttering. “Shh, my love, it’s alright we’re more than half way done,” Chelsey cooed, her surgical mask creasing deeply, her surgical gown crinkling.

“I’m transforming your penis so perfectly just for me, darling, no pain, just beauty

you’re safe in my hands.”

Setting the scalpel in the kidney tray with a clink, its blade heavily bloodied, Chelsey grasped the Gomco clamp, its metal components clanking softly as she assembled it, fitting the bell carefully over the head of Matt’s penis, its pink, glossy surface slick with a trace of blood, fully exposing, the edge of the head sharply defined against the pale, shaft, faint veins threading beneath.

“Now, darling, I’m using the clamp to make your cock flawless for me,” she explained, her voice clinical yet charged with seductive care, her surgical mask muffling her words, her eyes gleaming with sexual desire.

“Each snip makes you sexier, my love, all mine so just relax.” Adjusting the bell snugly over the head, its metal cool against the warm tissue, she pulled the foreskin through the clamp’s yoke, the thin skin stretching tightly, almost translucent, blood seeping at the edges.

Tightening the yoke’s screw, the metal creaking faintly, she secured the foreskin, the penis’s shaft quivering slightly, its pale skin taut and blood-streaked.

Her surgical gloves squeaked as she checked the clamp’s alignment, then grasped surgical scissors, their steel blades gleaming, angling them precisely.

She trimmed the excess foreskin, the blades snipping sharply through the stretched tissue, each cut deliberate, more blood splashing heavily, soaking into the fresh gauze wrap around the base, the severed foreskin pink, bloody, and glistening fell into the surgical bin with a wet plop, blood splashing faintly on the green surgical gloves and her green surgical gown was now speckled with red dots the waterproof coating glistening.

Inspecting his penis carfully, the raw, circular wound was clean, the shaft’s pale skin smooth and slightly reddened, the pink head prominent and glossy, she swapped the blood soaked gauze for a fresh one, and dropped it into the bin.

Matt grunted, “No… Chelsey… not mine anymore…” his voice fading, his head lolling. “There, there my darling, we’re almost there keep nice and calm,” Chelsey purred, her surgical gown crinkling, her surgical mask creasing as she smiled. “Your cock’s so sexy already my, darling, crafted just for me just breathe, the end is close.”

Grasping a sterile swab, she wiped more residual blood, the cotton soaked red, and placed it in the bin, the pile of bloody gauze and swabs growing.

Stepping back, her clogs tapping, her deep green surgical gown crinkling, Chelsey peeled off her blood soaked green surgical gloves, the latex snapping wetly dropping them into the biohazard bin with a soft thud.

Gliding to the head of the table, her surgical gown crinkling, she checked the anesthesia controls, her white latex fingers adjusting the propofol flow to maintain the haze, the keypad beeping, the pump’s whir steady.

Matt’s eyes fluttered, his breathing slower, the nasal mask hissing, his heart rate steady at 90 bpm. “You’re nice and calm, my love, just as you should be,” she murmured, her voice sweet, her surgical mask creasing as she checked all this vital monitors. “We’re almost done, darling, your cock is so sexy, now let’s finish up your transformation.”

Pressing two gloved fingers to his wrist again, her surgical gloves squeaking, she felt his pulse, steady and strong, and confirmed, “Still 90 beats per minute, darling, so calm and perfect for me.” Returning to the mayo stand, she opened a fresh packet of green surgical gloves, the plastic crinkling, a sterile scent wafting as she snapped on, the fresh green surgical gloves squeaking sharply, gleaming under the surgical light.

Grasping a 4-0 dissolvable suture needle and thread, the packet crinkling, she threaded the needle using a suture holder, its metal clicking as she pulled the thread taut, the needle glinting in her green gloved fingers.

“Now, darling, I’m going to stitch your cock to seal it as mine,” she said, her voice clinical but vibrating with possessiveness and subtle excitement.

“These stitches are marking you, my darling, only I will ever touch this penis ever again it’s now so gorgeous just for me, we’re almost at the end.”

Her thoughts: His penis is nearly perfect, and my body’s pulsing with sexual desire my tampon and pad keep me sharp.

Leaning over the penis, its raw, circular wound clean, the pale shaft slightly swollen, the pink head glossy and prominent, she placed each of ten stitches with precision, the needle piercing the pale, bloody tissue smoothly, the thread pulling tight with a faint tug, aligning the skin edges perfectly, more blood oozing, splashing softly, soaking the fresh gauze wrap around the base, which she swapped and dropped into the bin with a wet thud, smearing her surgical gloves, the latex glistening wetly.

Each loop was tight and uniform, sealing the wound cleanly, the penis’s skin now smooth, taut, and slightly pink from irritation, the head standing prominent, its glossy surface unmarred. Matt’s slurred voice mumbled, “Can’t… feel it… let me go…” his words barely audible, his body limp.

Chelsey leaned forward, her surgical gown crinkling loudly, its waterproof coating flecked with more blood, and said, “Shh, my darling, your cock is now so gorgeous, and is now officially all mine. Don’t worry your will be cared for by me, my love, you’re now home, safe in my care.”

Tying off the final suture, she snipped the thread with scissors, their blades clicking, and placed the needle and scissors in the kidney tray, its curved edge smeared with blood.

Chelsey began carefully Inspecting Matt’s penis, its smooth, sutured shaft glistening faintly, the stitches neat and barely visible, the pink head glossy, she nodded approvingly.

Pocking up a stack of sterile bandages, their adhesive backing crinkling as she peeled them open, Chelsey carefully dressed Matt’s penis, wrapping the sutured wound tightly with gauze, pressing it against the smooth, pale shaft, the adhesive securing the bandage firmly, covering the stitches but leaving the pink, glossy head partially exposed, its edge sharply defined.

“Your penis is now perfect my darling,” she cooed, her surgical mask creasing, her voice sweet and possessive. Under her breath, she murmured, “God, I’m getting so fucking wet just looking at your new sexy cock, darling I can’t wait to sink my pussy down onto your new perfect cock when it’s fully healed.”

She continued aloud, “Healing I know will be slightly painful and sting a bit, my love, but I’ll give you the very best care, soothing every ache with my touch. I’ll nurse you myself, darling, ensuring your gorgeous cock heals beautifully under my hands. Now than I want you to just rest and let me keep you nice and healthy.”

Applying a second layer of adhesive tape, its plastic crinkling, she ensured the bandage stayed secure, the penis now sleek, its pale skin smooth and bandaged, the head slightly visible, glistening under the light. She swapped a final blood-soaked gauze pad for a fresh one, dropping it into the surgical bin, the pile now overflowing with bloody gauze and swabs.

Bloody splatter speckled her deep green surgical gown, red droplets stark against the glossy waterproof coating, and her green surgical gloves glistened with fresh blood.

Placing the bloodied suture holder, hemostats, and scissors in the kidney tray, their metal clinking against its curved, blood streaked edge, she ensured all instruments were accounted for as she wrapped up the surgery.

She peeled off her blood smeared green surgical gloves, the latex snapping, and removed her deep green surgical gown, its fabric crinkling loudly as she untied it, dropping both into a biohazard bin with a soft thud.

Retrieving a fresh deep green surgical gown from the mayo stand, its waterproof coating shimmering, she slipped it on, the fabric crinkling sharply as she tied it tightly, the front tie dangling. Snapping on new green surgical gloves, the packet crinkling, the latex squeaking as they settled tightly, she ensured they gleamed under the surgical light.

Gliding to the head of the table, her clogs tapping softly on the sterile floor, her fresh deep green surgical gown crinkling with each step, Chelsey removed her loupe glasses, setting them on the tray with a soft clink, her hazel eyes twinkling with triumph.

She touched his cheek with her green surgical gloves, the latex squeaking softly against his skin. Her green surgical mask taut across her face, creasing faintly as she smiled happily down at him.

“The operation was a complete success, my love,” she cooed, her voice muffled but warm, her eyes gleaming with desire.

“Your penis looks so sexy now, darling, so smooth and all mine.” She shone a penlight, its beam clicking on, checking both pupils, watching them shrink slightly.

“Hmm good still responding well, pupils are nice and small,” she confirmed, grabbing a clipboard and jotting, “Pupils normal, reactive,” the pen scratching softly.

Pressing the stethoscope’s bell to her gloved fingers, then to his chest, the latex squeaking as she adjusted it, the metal cool against his skin, she listened to his heart thumping steadily. Pressing two gloved fingers to his wrist again, the latex squeaking faintly, she counted his pulses.

“Heart rate steady at 85 beats per minute, my love, you’re so steady,” she murmured, her surgical gown crinkling as she leaned closer, her mask creasing deeply.

Matt’s eyes fluttered, his vision blurry, the propofol haze heavy, the nasal mask’s hiss faint in his ears, his heart rate at 85 bpm. His voice slurred, “Please… let me go home…to….Claire…” faint but clear, his desperation evident.

Chelsey leaned down, pulling her green surgical mask down, revealing her lips, and cupped his face from above with both gloved hands, the latex squeaking sharply as she nuzzled his cheek gently, her fingers flexing against his skin.

She bent down for a deep passionate French kiss, her lips firm and warm, her tongue swirling slowly, exploring every corner of his mouth, lingering long, her breath hot and mingling with his, the propofol haze making his response sluggish but his lips trembling under hers.

Her deep green surgical gown crinkled loudly as she leaned closer, her hazel eyes twinkling with intense desire.

She pulled back, half-raising her mask, and whispered, “This is just like one of my own sexual fantasies, darling, me as a nurse above you in full surgical gear giving you a sexy kiss, but god for me to shape your penis, make it beautiful, knowing it will only ever enter me from now on God, it truly makes my pussy so fucking wet just thinking about it.”

Her gloved fingers squeaked as they caressed his cheeks, her voice thick with erotic intent. “Just stay nice and calm, my love, let that nice warm hazy feeling wrap around you.”

Matt’s voice slurred louder, “No more… please… no more…” his head twisting faintly against the leather harness, his chest heaving under the Velcro straps, his eyes fluttering wildly, his heart rate spiking to 90 bpm, the monitors beeping faster.

His arms strained faintly against the restraints, his body trembling with panic.

Chelsey shushed him, her gloved hands gently holding his face, latex squeaking sharply, her hazel eyes twinkling with reassurance.

“Shh, my darling, no need to panic, your dear nurse is going to keep you safe,” she soothed, her voice soft and possessive, her surgical gown crinkling as she leaned closer.

“Now that your circumcision surgery is completed, my love, I’m now going to fully anesthetizing you for the more invasive surgical biopsies to ensure I have a complete picture of your health, combined with the tissue samples I’ve already sent to the hospital lab, will mean in a couple days I will have all the results, and will know everything about you my darling.

Matt’s eyes widened in hazy panic, his voice slurring, “Please, Chelsey, no more surgeries…” his head twisting faintly against the harness, his chest heaving erratically, the monitors beeping faster at 90 bpm.

Chelsey calmly walked closer, her clogs tapping softly, and touched his face intimately again with her green surgical gloves, the latex squeaking softly as she cupped his cheeks, her hazel eyes twinkling with reassurance.

“Shh, my love, I know you’re nervous about me putting you under completely, and operating on you, but you’re in the very best hands,” she murmured, her voice dripping with possessive care.

“I’m a highly skilled surgical nurse with years of experience, I’ve performed countless procedures like this, from skin biopsies to deep tissue samples, on dozens of patients in sterile operating rooms, assisting top surgeons with precision.”

“I’ve handled everything from minor incisions to complex bone marrow aspirations, and I’m expertly trained in anesthesia, managing propofol drips, sevoflurane delivery, and ventilator settings to keep patients like you perfectly sedated and safe.”

“I’ve worked solo on biopsy panels, darling, collecting samples for comprehensive health screenings, so there’s no need to worry, my love. These tests are my way of claiming every part of you, ensuring you’re flawless for our life together, safe from COVID and everyone else who might try to take you from me.”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to an even more dangerous possessive whisper, “I’ll keep you all for myself, darling, perfectly healthy under my care.”

Her green surgical gloved fingers flexed repeatedly, the latex squeaking sharply with each movement, her surgical mask creasing deeply with every word, her deep green surgical gown crinkling loudly as she shifted.

Matt moaned faintly, “No more… please…” his voice slurred, his eyes fluttering, his head restrained by the harness.

“Shh, my dear your nurse knows what’s best for you so just lay still and be a good patient,” Chelsey purred, her gloved hand stroking his forehead, latex squeaking faintly, her voice dripping with reassurance and control.

She stood, her clogs tapping softly, her deep green surgical gown crinkling, and glided to the anesthesia machine, its sleek surface glowing under the lights, a large, rebreather bag black and rubbery, integrated into the machine’s base was waiting to pulse with the flow of gases, its glossy surface gleaming faintly.

The machine’s digital display flickered with Matt’s vitals: heart rate 90 bpm, blood pressure 110/70 mmHg, oxygen saturation 98%, temperature 98.6°F.

Chelsey’s hazel eyes twinkled with excitement above her green surgical mask, its fabric creasing as she smiled.

She opened a cabinet beside the anesthesia machine, its hinges clicking softly, and retrieved a classic green Black Beauty anesthesia mask, its smooth, glossy green rubber molded into a contoured, pear shaped dome, designed to snugly encase the nose and mouth.

Its thick, cushioned rubber rim, broad at the cheeks and tapering slightly at the chin would conform perfectly to the contours of Matt’s face with his high cheekbones, squared jaw, and slightly parted lips.

The mask’s sturdy, adjustable straps, attached to metal clips, glint faintly under the surgical light, promising a secure fit as they stretch to cradle his head.

The faint scent of sterile rubber wafts from its surface, sharp and intoxicating, mingling with the sweet sevoflurane gas.

Holding the mask reverently, her green surgical gloves squeaking against its smooth, cool surface, she cooed.

“This classic Black Beauty mask is perfect for your first complete anesthesia experience, my love, it will send you into dreamland for my special tests. Its thick rubber rim will seal you in, and the machine’s rebreather bag will make every breath mine to control.”

“I know you’ve dreamed of a sexy nurse in full surgical gear, darling, controlling your body with her surgical gloved hands, her mask creasing as she whispers to you, taking you under with a anesthesia mask like this.”

“For me, darling, it’s not just anesthetizing you, but owning every inch of your body, performing every procedure I’ve perfected as a surgical nurse, making you mine forever.”

“I’m so excited to be the first to fully anesthetize you like this….that’s true, right, Matt?” Matt slurred, “Yessss…” his voice faint, his eyes fluttering.

Matt’s internal thoughts: What’s the point of denying it? Haze… can’t fight…

Chelsey clapped her gloved hands together, the latex squeaking sharply, and jumped up and down slightly, her surgical gown crinkling loudly, letting out a girlish giggle.

“Ohh I know it darling I’m so thrilled I get to live out my medical fantasies like this with you my darling!” she exclaimed, her hazel eyes twinkling with delight.

“I tried to convince my husband to let me do a little medical play on him once, but he was so cold and mean, calling me a freak and weird, so I abandoned it at the start of our marriage.”

“But with you my darling captive patient, I’m going to live out every one of my medical kinks that I’ve wanted to perform as a surgical nurse.”

She leaned closer, her surgical gown crinkling loudly, her surgical mask creasing, and began disconnecting the green nasal mask, its straps popping free with a sharp snap, the tubing hissing softly as it detached.

Matt’s face bare, his eyes half open, pupils dilated in the propofol haze, his breathing shallow, as his lips trembling.

She set the nasal mask aside on the tray with a soft clink, then adjusted the anesthesia machine’s controls, her gloved fingers turning dials to shut off the propofol IV drip, the pump’s whir fading, the valve clicking sharply, the flow ceasing.

She calibrated the anesthesia machine’s vaporizer, setting the sevoflurane dial to a precise 4% concentration, ensuring a smooth transition to maintain deep sedation.

She checked the CO2 monitor, confirming Matt was exhaling carbon dioxide levels at 35 & 40 mmHg, indicating stable ventilation.

She adjusted the oxygen flow to 2 liters per minute, the machine’s flowmeter clicking softly, and verified the inspiratory pressure at 15 cmH2O to support his breathing.

Opening a compartment on the machine, its metal door clicking, she retrieved a sevoflurane canister, its silver surface gleaming coolly under the light.

Unscrewing the propofol reservoir with a faint squeak, she placed it in a tray with a soft clink, then secured the sevoflurane canister into the machine, twisting its valve with a sharp click, the canister hissing softly as it locked into place.

Grasping the Black Beauty mask, she connected its ribbed rubber tubing to the anesthesia machine, the connectors clicking firmly into place, the rubber scent intensifying as the tubing aligned with the machine’s output.

She pressed the Black Beauty mask’s firmly over Matt’s face, its thick rubber rim molding to his cheekbones, sealing tightly around his nose and mouth, the cushioned edges pressing gently yet, ensuring no gaps as the sterile rubber scent filled his nostrils.

She tested the mask’s seal by gently squeezing the rebreather bag, observing its rhythmic deflation and inflation, ensuring no leaks as the pressure gauge stabilized at 20 cmH2O.

She secured the mask’s thick straps, their clips clicking sharply, the elastic pulling tight against his head, locking the mask in place, the machine’s rebreather bag waiting below, its black rubber gleaming faintly.

Sitting on a stool at the head of the anesthesia table, her surgical gown crinkling softly as she settled, she stroked Matt’s head gently, her green surgical gloves squeaking against his hair, her hazel eyes twinkling with love and obsessive control.

“Are you ready for your first full anesthesia, darling?” she whispered, her voice thick with sexual desire, her surgical mask creasing deeply.

“Just Imagine this Black Beauty mask strapped to your face, my love, as I fuck you, your eyes hazy under my control. We’ll have so much anesthesia sex play, darling, this mask sealing you in, making you mine with every breath.”

“The amount of kinky erotic sex we’ll have will be so wonderful, my love, soon you won’t be able to even think of Claire, only me and our new life together.”

Matt moaned faintly, “No more… please…” his voice slurred, his eyes fluttering weakly. “Shh, Matt your surgical nurse will take care of you,” she soothed, her gloved fingers stroking his forehead softly.

“Now let’s get ready my dear patient to take you into dream land. Then I will cut into this yummy body and do multiple surgical biopsies. That way I will know every inch of your body, and you I’ll be healthy and stay mine forever!”

“So are you ready to hear about everything I will be doing to you my darling patient?”

To be continued………