Pervert in the Smock

By Ivan Fedotov

We all deserve to be punished and used once in a while.

I know that I do!

This bundle has the stories of BDSM, Discipline, Spanking, Dominance, and Submission.

If you like BDSM, kink, variety, and value for money then you need to read this book.

All characters and actions in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to any real or dead person, place or event is purely coincidental.

All acting persons are 18 years or older.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meg Congelosi
• Release date: Feb 16, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215195086

Book preview

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Table of Contents

A quiet night

VIP patient

Doctor games

Clinic slave

The lesbian woman doctor

Patient punished

Gynecologist stretch

Pervert in the Smock

Author: Ivan Fedotov

© Copyright 2023 - All Rights Reserved.

The content contained within this book may not be reproduced, duplicated, or transmitted without direct written permission from the author or the publisher.

Under no circumstances will any blame or legal responsibility be held against the publisher, or author, for any damages, reparation, or monetary loss due to the information contained within this book. Either directly or indirectly.

Note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

Please do not read if you are under the age of 18

A quiet night

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I still get wet when I think back to that Thursday in March. I was a ward nurse in a huge hospital with over 500 beds and was responsible for an entire corridor. It was a quiet night.

The last third of my shift had started and I was already looking forward to the end of the day, followed by a good night's sleep and three days off in which I wanted to celebrate and enjoy spring. When the patients slept through, I only had to monitor the monitors, made my rounds regularly and otherwise I read women's magazines.

But then just before 04:00 the red light for room 423 went on - emergency. I routinely pressed all the necessary buttons to inform other night staff and sprinted off.

An elderly gentleman was recovering from a heart attack in room 423. When I entered the room, he was already dark blue and could not breathe. I immediately rendered first aid until shortly after the station doctor arrived - Melvin Peele.

A black medical doctor from the USA who stayed at our renowned hospital for study purposes. He had the situation under control in no time. With stoic calm, he directed the assistant doctors and nurses who were hurrying behind, asked for surgical instruments and performed an incision in the patient's trachea while he was still on the bed.

After a quarter of an hour the man was out of danger, pain free and conscious. He sat in bed propped up on pillows and bandages and took a sip of water to calm himself. dr Peele was impressive. I stood in the doorway of the room the whole time, watching what was happening in the corridor with one eye and his approach with the other.

He didn't even break a sweat. And as he left the hospital room, he touched his shoulder in passing while giving me a knowing wink. I knew immediately what that meant and the sinking feeling in my stomach proved me right.

dr Melvin Peele and I had been playing a perverted game for weeks. Whenever the horniness got the better of me, I would find a safe spot within minutes and massage my clit until the ensuing orgasm made me think clearly again.

I've had this practice since I was a teenager. There hasn't been a personal or professional event that I haven't slipped away from at least once to lend a hand. If I neglected my pussy and didn't pay attention to it, I would quickly become depressed and grumpy.

So I firmly stuck to my habit and made it myself whenever I felt like it. The job as a night nurse was only an advantage, because there were regularly enough opportunities for relief during the course of a night shift.

A few weeks ago, one of these excursions took me to the reception room of Dr. peele It was already the end of the day and the dark room was not locked, probably so that the cleaning ladies could still check on things. I crept in, closed the door, leaned against a filing cabinet in the pitch-dark room, and immediately reached into the stretch waistband of my sister's outfit to calm my demanding clit.

That night and the day before, I hadn't managed to masturbate, so the pressure was particularly sharp. My hand wandered into the slip, hit my above-average wet slit and started. First I fingered myself a little and enjoyed feeling my hole from the inside - filling it out and fingering it.

Then, after a few minutes, I focused on rubbing the clit, which was already sticking out, hard and swollen. Sometimes - like that night - I needed a little more friction, so I scrambled my hand out of the panties and used the lace fabric to torture my pearl until my knees went weak and I gasped.

I had completely soaked the panties and despite the orgasm, horny thoughts were still flying through my head. In a fit of high spirits, I took off the dark blue panties in a flash and wanted to stuff them in the back pocket of my pants for later disposal - walking around with wet panties wasn't my thing, then I'd rather not have them at all.

But when I left the room, I noticed Dr. Peel in the eye. The light from the hallway, through the crack in the door, literally presented him to me on a silver platter. I hesitated, sniffed the small piece of fabric again to check, and then put it in Dr. Peele's smock.

I loved the smell of my cunt - heavenly tart, feminine scent and just smelling awesome of sex. The slip carried a perfect aroma from me and Dr. Peele would soon get some of that scent too. Satisfied, I strutted back into the surveillance room, where this little trick gave me thieving pleasure hours later.

More or less by accident I passed his room again the next night, briefly checked whether it was locked and then couldn't help but look at the smock. I walked quietly into his room and sniffed the smock. There was actually still a slight scent mark on it from me - especially near the pocket.

I knew myself too well and this olfactory profile was too clear. I spontaneously had to smile devilishly and at the same time got incredibly horny at the thought that this American athlete and exceptional doctor had marched through the hospital all day and had carried the scent of my cunt on him. Recognizable to any other woman who wanted to get close to him.

I almost had to redo it on the spot, because after a second look I realized that my panties were no longer in the pocket of the smock. She was empty. But my pager beeped just at that moment and I had to attend to more important things for now.

This dirty sweet game continued in the following nights. It turned out to be my hottest pussy fingering session in a long, long time. I sneaked into his room under the cover of the night shift, did it myself using the panties, and left the wetted part as a naughty, anonymous souvenir.

Then dr. Peele himself was assigned to the night shift and I had to hold myself back a bit because I didn't want him to identify me as the originator of the sweet cunt messages. I had such intense orgasms with every panty delivery that I wanted to continue this practice for a long time.

On a quiet night, Dr. Peele and I hardly ever, in a more hectic for a few times. He always came across as professional, matter-of-fact, friendly and a bit distant. I was quite sure that he hadn't aroused any suspicions and that he wouldn't be able to quickly solve my game without the help of the latest forensic technology.

But maybe I was a little wrong there.

The next night, a Monday, I was just returning from my rounds through the hospital rooms when I found a crumpled pair of panties on the desk in the surveillance room - in the middle of the keyboard for everyone to see. With a blush in my face, I made the piece of evidence disappear in a flash and a little later took it to the toilet to be able to inspect it at my leisure.

With a pounding heart and a strange shiver on the back of my neck, I noticed two things: First, it wasn't just any panties, but the dark blue ones I had left in his doctor's office on my very first visit. My heart was beating faster and I was getting more nervous because that meant the finder - Dr. Peele - didn't just throw away my panties, he kept them.

I felt a surge of sudden arousal take hold of me because a door of whole new jerk off fantasies had now opened. On the other hand, the slip had been used again. From a man. He was massively covered in cum. Namely on the inside, right where my pussy touched the fabric while wearing it.

I got hot and cold. I didn't know what to think. This discovery gave me a horny, dirty high because it was a signal. A response to my message and the response said: I'm as perverted as you!

I frantically checked whether my small toilet cubicle was really locked, peeked under the partitions to see other legs and then slowly brought the panties to my nose. I sniffed cautiously at the rim at first, wanting to catch a glimpse of my own matured scent, but then I was drawn fairly quickly to the dried semen stain glistening in the cold light of the hospital toilet.

I treated myself to a nose and was amazed to find that it smelled incredibly intense - like really hot, male cum. Clearly tart and bitter and typical of sperm. I shot the juices in the column and I noticed how my nipples straightened up by themselves. In certain circumstances, I could have killed for good sperm.

Nothing made me hornier when my pussy took over and my body went into sex mode. I took several deep puffs on the milky, crusty, horny spot, then I couldn't contain myself any longer and carefully stuck out the tip of my tongue. I had to snack on it. Very carefully I hit the blob, registered the horny, creamy hard texture and then moistened it with light circular movements.

As if it were Dr. Peele's cock, as if I could revive the semen stain by circling my tongue. After a few moments, my spit took effect and my taste buds noticed the hot taste of man juice. I sat with my legs apart on the closed bowl.

My right hand had already disappeared deep into my crotch and was trying convulsively to cope with the burning lust that was spreading mercilessly there. My left hand held the hot panties to my nose and mouth like an addictive drug that was essential for survival. I kept licking the stain, sucking on the fabric and imagining how his black over-cock was deep in my throat and chasing the hot, white gold freshly tapped into the pit of my stomach.

I came after a few minutes, panting and panting, which I usually only experience during sex, not during masturbation.

Surprised and satisfied, I got up, checked how much of the creamy spot was left and how much I had licked off in my lust. I wanted to share his semen so I could have some later, but then I gave it a whirl and took off my sisters pants and swapped my fresh panties for the waxed ones.

Then I got dressed and left the toilet beaming. It was an incredibly perverse feeling to wear these panties and to know with every step that his noble stallion sauce rubbed into my pussy and mixed with my juices there, maybe even penetrated me and made it comfortable there.

Back to the shortness of breath from room 423 and the courageous intervention of Dr. Melvin Peele. When he touched my shoulder as he left the room, I knew he knew. There was no point in touching me, gently jostling me, and then giving me a wink like that.

After his first semen gift, three more panties were returned to my return address, and each time I used up the salty goodness it contained that same night. I licked one pair of panties completely clean, I used another to rub my pussy and I made a kind of glove out of the third one and shoved it into my anus - the wetted side turned outwards.

I don't normally use anal fingering when masturbating, but I just had to have that manly cum everywhere, at least in all my holes.

After he bumped into me, I looked after him uncertainly. He actually turned around briefly in the hallway and grinned charmingly and meaningfully. I could have gone insane. Not just out of lust, but above all out of panicky nervousness.

If that got out, they would rather fire the little nurse than the highly respected elite medical doctor from abroad. Especially since I didn't even know with complete certainty whether the panties really came from him or from a sick caretaker.

However, I quickly dismissed that thought. They had to be from him. I hung helplessly on his hook. It was horrible and it took any form of confidence out of my posture because for all the smiles he seemed distant, unavailable. We didn't even greet each other regularly. I would have liked to throw myself at his feet and offer myself up.

I wanted to yell at him down the hall that I'd like his semen from the source rather than warmed up fast food.

I trotted back to the center of my corridor, where the glass-enclosed monitoring and control room for all of the ward's rooms was, and flopped back into my desk chair. A look at the monitors and control panels - all quiet, still some time until the next tour.

I had just decided to make myself some coffee when a light came on on the electronic bulletin board for a single room: 469. At the very end of the hall. Was anyone stationed there? I looked a second time, confused, but the light for 469 was obviously flashing. Namely yellow. Yellow meant: no emergency, but could you please give me a hand, mrs.

I grabbed one of the check cars and started walking. In the hallway I remembered that the delicious panties hadn't come up in the last few days. It bothered me a lot and I didn't know why. The door to Dr. Peele's room had been locked yesterday.

Either the cleaning ladies had become faster or something had changed. But first the patient. I knocked, entered, and hesitated. It was pitch dark. The light switch didn't respond, even though I wore an employee signal transmitter on my body and was able to switch on the electricity even in empty rooms.

Before I could get to the bottom of the problem, however, someone grabbed my waist from behind and pushed me deeper into the room, crashing me into a freshly made patient bed. Startled, I turned around, but it was pitch black, which is