"Please, walk this way." The nurse smiled, tucking her blonde hair behind her head
and happily escorting you through the waiting room and into the Doctor's Office.
She wore a curiously old-fashioned outfit; a high white skirt, a pair of stockings,
high-heeled shoes, and a traditional nurse's cap.
"Mister...Link? Interesting name. Please, come take a seat." She lead you into a small room, and motioned for you to sit down. "I shall return with the doctor in just a moment." The nurse left the room, shaking her rear on the way out. She closed the door behind you, and you heard a curious 'click.' Which was of course, your last opportunity to escape.
The room suddenly turned pitch black. The oxygen tanks in the room suddenly began to 'hiss' with a sweet-smelling gas. Your efforts to disconnect the gas were only successful in disconnecting your feet from the floor as you stumbled to the ground. As you fell to the chilled tile floor, sleep came quickly.

***

Awaking in a cold sweat, you find yourself trapped - and still presumably at the medical offices. Your arms and legs seem immobile, while you rest on a white hospital bed. Lights from above are bright and cause a slight headache, while the slow, subtle hum of equipment and fans bring a shiver to your spine and causes you to pant faster and faster.
Your arms and legs refuse to respond as you try to wipe your brow; you only have the barest of sensation in your extremities. The anesthetic, combined with your restraints, make escape quite impossible.
In reference to restraints; Your arms are spread across your wingspan, like a "T", while your legs are spread slightly. Both seem to be tightly locked into black plastic restraints; simple, smooth, padded cuffs that have very little give or slack, making even squirming a difficult prospect.

***

You could hear the sound of an intercom a few rooms away - it seemed as though you were still in the Doctor's office. What sort of doctor was this?
"Hello, Mister Link." The doors flew open like wings. A woman slowly walked
in, stride by stride; her silky, tight legs were adorned with subtle brown pantyhose and a pair of dashing, ruby-red high heels. Her toned, muscular thighs wore a short white skirt. All of this was covered by the woman's flowing white lab coat; it tightly covered her supple form, sweeping over her thighs and tight chest.

The woman smiled. "I am Doktor Anja Avdotya, and I will be your surgeon today." Surgeon? Could that possibly be the cause of all this?
"I knew that you needed help the moment you walked in my door," she said ina thick, Russian accent and low, alluring voice. "You were so carefree, so nonchalant; it was obvious that you needed
assistance. And I could provide. When we are done, you will not need to worry about human troubles and travails. As my latest creation, you will be given a state-of-the-art experience; a perfect, rubbery creation - a medical miracle."

Her boots clicked as she circles you like a vulture to its prey. "When we are done,
no longer will you be a man; but a glorious and consummate testament to the genius
of Doktor Anja!"

She cackles evilly; her laughs echo through the "operating" room, six more
women, Anja's "nurses" stream through the doors.

"Nurse, bring me the cart, stat!" Doktor Anja shouts at her minions. They
are dressed from head to toe in seamless black and red rubber. From head to toe,
they are covered in tight sheath of lustrous sheen; a bright white catsuit while
covered by a second layer of red rubber in the form of a nurse's uniform.
Every one of the nurses is wearing a thick gas mask, topped with a nurse's
cap. Every nurse, that is, except one. She tucks her blonde hair into the helmet
and winks at you - the same nurse that captured you!

"Ah, you met Natalia?" says the Doktor. "She is my greatest protogé; my
perfect assistant. And, in time, you, too will be as perfectly submissive as she."

Teasing aside, the rubber nurses and their mistress did indeed have a
distict intrest in appropriately binding you. As a single unit, the nurses converge
on you with the Doktor's help, you helpless, wriggling body easy prey for the pack.

Wit so many gloved, sensual hands touching and teasing you at all times, they have no problem unbuckling the straps one at a time - and still keeping you restrained.

First come a pair of shoulder-length gloves. Comprised of a jet black
rubber, the nurses slip it past your fingers, then your wrist - and moving it up to
your shoulder, unfurling it and tightening it with a leather strap. The rubber is
thick and restrictive; have trouble bending your elbow such is the intent of your
captors.

Meanwhile, you could feel your legs being assaulted as well. The moment you
could feel the leg straps released, three more nurses grab your leg, pressing it
tight against their warm, squeaky bodies. Without so much of a chance to kick in
defiance, they strike a pair of well-lubricated rubber stockings up your legs,
carefully seeing to it that they stretch around your calves and thighs. Again, the
sultry, lustrous sheen of the leggings is deceptive, refusing you the ability to
bend your knees or ankles without difficulty.

"Picture what you will look like, my dear, as you will be too tightly bound
to see it." The Doktor locks a thick black-and-white blindfold over your head, its
thick and padded embrace squeezing against your skull and blocking out any possible
sight.

  "Imagine your body Picture it, pet. Close your eyes and let your mind
wander. You on your knees, completely wrapped and bound, unable to see, arms and legs, folded on themselves, and your tongue loose from your mask." On command, the doktor forces your mouth open and installs a wide ring-gag in your mouth. You can feel her bring the straps around the back of your head, locking it in place and clasping it shut just one cinch too tight. Your tongue dangles through the gag.
"I leave you, my little rubber toy, the freedom to pleasure me; taking you
on my lap and slowly stroking your enclosed form, I carefully move my fingers to
your mouth, just to tease and let you suckle on your mistress's digits, begging to
be of use to Doktor Anja..."

  On command, a nurse examines such a mask; a tight, form-fitting hood with the smallest of eye slits, a hole and sheath for your mouth (just enough to let your tongue hang), small ear holes (with optional slots for earplugs) and a pair of gavages to keep precious oxygen flowing to your lungs.
The nurses take your head, one of them rubbing it ever-so-teasingly against her bosoms, they slide the lubricated hood over your gag and blindfold, coalescing and tightening the solid piece around your rounded skull, smoothing the layers around your faceless head.

  "Ah, marvelous. Ariana, please, make sure the patient is ready for any hibernation we might require."
  Her nurses, bound in black and red, tended to your bodily needs with great efficiency. The nurse took your member and raised it in the air ever-so-slightly. Her rubbery mitts felt the soft, warm rod in her hand while she fitted a catheter over it, inserting it slighty and attatching it in place with a short metal sheath. Meanwhile, another nurse was lubricating something right near your groin – you could feel the occasional chilled splash of lubricant on your groin and stomach – and, without warning, plunged an unforgiving plug to you rear. It had a hollow aspect to it; designed with suction and cleanliness in mind, its ribbed edges made you squirm in your bindigns and clutch at your mitts with a voracious appetite. Now your captors would not even need to remove your bindings to let you relieve yourself.
  "Just another item or two to go, ladies." Anja clapped as she circled you like a buzzard; her coat flowing like wings, her sharp jaw and features staring at you like the beak of a predator ready to strike.
  A tight bodysuit is the next order of business – and, judging by the speed with which they do it, one of the last. It is similar to the bodysuits that the nurses are stuffed in, but this one is rigid in many places. The arms and legs are mostly rigid, and ribbed in many spots. In fact, you would say that some areas had been coated in resin; carefully sculpted into a bodysuit that covers your arms, back, stomach, and all below your waist in a careful mix of black and red that would make H.R. Giger proud.
  And of course, the rubber suit has its delicate parts as well; caressing your groin, it has an extra layer of tightness, forcibly spreading your legs slightly, recreating the natural curve of your shapely rear – and compressing your groin and the butt-plug all the tighter as Doktor Anja finishes her toy…
  The blinders 'turn on' so to speak, revealing their functionality as goggles and the earplugs function as sound pieces. You can see the area around you somewhat clearly, though through the eyes of one of the nurses. Everything about you is different; not a shred of skin remains, just the tight, unwavering carapace of a latex-coated love pet.
  There is a new item; a gas mask. Not just any gas mask; this one has a unique set of ridges on the attatched posture collar, a long proboscis – no doubt usable as a feeding tube for when your captors finally need to give you sustenance. In fact, the entire thing makes you seem like a latex insect… your entire body is tightly coated with ridges and coloration to give you the appearance of a deadly black-and-red mantis.
  "I am going to have my nurses unbuckle you, Subject 23. You have been given the freedom of movement – for now. Your human needs will be taken care of – for now. We can rectify that soon enough. As you notice, the suit does not need to come off, though if we need to make another operation , we can. Your catheter and plug have been designed to let you relieve yourself when necessary; the goggles will give you all the sensory input you need, though we plan on experimenting with sensory deprivation and extensive use of touch sensing and how we can train you to move by feel.

  She stroked your new face, her knuckles gently washing over the shiny ebon-black reflection. To her, you knew, she saw not a patient, not a man; only a thing – one which she was creating, at that. The way that she spoke was curious; the way that she conducted her affairs was most peculiar. You knew that you might lose your very self to this woman; she had already seen fit to remove any sense of self.
  Blinders took your sight, obscuring your foreknowledge of your captor and her henchmen – prevened from any form of anticipation and removing any hope of the smallest amoutn of awareness, forcing you to only be able to react to whatever stimulus she deigned necessary.

  Earplugged were your ears, banished into a world of silence, stealing any prospect of determining reality and casting you into a world of emptiness apart from my own thoughts, heightening the sense of touch and trapping you in the exquisitie bondage of physical sensitivity.

  Gagged helplessly, unable to communicate with your Doktor - prevented from begging, pleading, asking, requesting, negotiating or persuading with her during your fiendish torture. It removed your  famed ability to get what you wanted through masterful wording.

  Mitted, reducing digital use to dull clubs, and causing any and all ability to gain and retain an influence or understanding of your predictment to be snatched away, leaving you only submissive, helpless and aching for sensory input for one form of release or another.

  Hooded, ripping the last vestige of subjectivity from you and reducing you to an object, cut off from the world and now only able to think and feel what another would have you sample. What a responsibility for the Doktor! What a privilege! What a danger...

Of course, the woman stroking and admiring your face was a Doktor. She had the situation under control; and more importantly, she had you under control.