She ran her latex-gloved fingers across the network of scars covering the man's pale, waxy flesh.

   The translucent skin both fascinated and disgusted her. She was glad the latex protected her from its touch and eager to ask how he came to be so marked but knew that was against the rules of this game. Not even names were allowed. This was the first time he had visited her and he told her he'd found her name in a 'special interest' magazine. She didn't know if that was meant to be some sort of joke but she hadn't laughed - it wouldn't have been in character even if she had found it funny.

    He strained momentarily against the tough leather straps holding his wrists and ankles as she held both his nipples firmly and extruded them almost a quarter of an inch.

    That's better, she thought. He had shown hardly any reaction since she had first secured him into the chair almost 10 minutes ago. Now they were getting somewhere.

    Her leather boots creaked as she squatted in front of him and spread his knees farther apart. She reached forward, using her palm to apply pressure to his testicles, forcing them against the hard wooden seat. This elicited a sharp intake of breath and a futile attempt to writhe out of her grasp. His semi-erect penis - still as pale as the rest of him - went flaccid. Yes, much better, she thought.

    She liked to leave her guests alone at some point in order to heighten their anticipation; when she returned she usually had a surprise for them. Walking back into the cellar room, she strode its full length before turning to face him. She had expected a look of surprise as he saw the large rubber phallus jutting from her slim hips but there was nothing. She began to feel annoyed. Very unprofessional, she thought.

    Striding quickly across to where her guest sat, she grabbed his slick black hair and forced his long face down to look at the strap-on device. She said nothing - she didn't have to.

     He hadn't asked for this - his request was straightforward and a little boring - but she always liked to do it to show who was really in charge here. If they didn't like it they didn't have to come to her again. Most did.

     She climbed a step to the right of the chair and put her foot on a small platform at the chair's side, then swung her right leg across to an identical platform at the other side. She'd taken a lot of trouble having this thing designed and intended to get her money's worth out of it.

    As the rubber cock hovered just inches from his face, she was appalled to see him arch his neck forward and kiss the small area of her left thigh exposed between her boot and her leather briefs. She was revolted by his touch. Angry, she reached down and slapped his face hard. "No!" she shouted as if teaching a disobedient dog to obey her.

    She thrust the false phallus toward his mouth. His lips remained closed. Only when she started to reach for his hair did he open his mouth and accept her cock. His unusually long chin touched his scarred chest as she began to thrust He gagged twice during the prolonged face-fucking but she didn't stop. He deserved it for his presumption, she thought.

    When she finally stepped down from her perch, the rubber penis glistened with his saliva. Almost as wet as when I fuck Carla, she thought with a smile. She slapped the rough wall of her private dungeon. "Now," she shouted,  "down to business." The sneer in her voice added to the effect of absolute authority.

    The 'business' was fairly uninteresting but it was easy money. He had even provided her with a strange glass receptacle. He had told her he wanted his 'spend' to be collected and returned to him. Some men were like that, she thought. God knows what they did with it - some oriental philosophies thought retaining or re-ingesting semen was the secret of long life. She shuddered as she thought of him drinking it.

    Placing the thick glass object to one side she knelt before him, the large rubber prong between her legs almost touching the floor. He had obviously enjoyed his treatment so far as his penis was now fully erect, waving slightly between his thighs. Reaching forward, she grasped it, thinking how unpleasantly large it felt.

   As she began to work her fist back and forth - bringing a groan of pleasure from him - she noticed its lack of colour. Most men's penises had at least a healthy red blush if not a strangled purple hue when erect, but not his. His reminded her of a large, pallid slug. She wondered if he was ill. Perhaps it had something to do with his scars.

    After several minutes of working his cock, she began to use both hands. She would be glad when this was over. With most men she would be at least slightly aroused by now but she could tell her vagina was hardly wet. She felt uncomfortable with him and was having to work hard. Her small breasts, which were firm and usually content to stay in place, were bouncing uncomfortably and beginning to glisten with sweat.

     At last, she noticed his thighs begin to tense as several drops of clear liquid ran from the end of his penis. Here it comes, she thought, reaching for the glass jar.

    Before she could bring the glass into position, copious ejaculate shot from him, splattering her face, arms and chest. She was shocked at the force with which he came.

    "Shit!" Surprised, disgusted, she flung the glass jar away from her. It hit the wall and rolled away, unbroken, across the floor.

    She glared at the man sitting strapped to her chair. She felt like taking revenge on him for covering her in his filthy mess. If it was anyone else she might not mind so much - but him ...

    She began to rise, then toppled back on her heels. She gasped. It burned. His semen was burning her! She gave a short scream and fell back against the wall as the stuff began to eat painfully into her skin. Brushing at it with her hands did no good, merely transferring the stinging goo onto her palms. She tried to rise again but fell back in agony as the thick liquid burned into her.

      The miserable stench of her impending death filled her nostrils as she plunged into unconsciousness.

*******

     "Clumsy, clumsy," thought Bilt as he stared at the woman's prone form on the floor, "I expected a little more from someone advertising themselves as a 'lifestyle domina'."

    He had to allow himself a small chuckle, his penis shrinking now, as his semen burnt into the woman's body, eating away her vital organs. But whatever humour he felt soon dissipated as he realised his ejaculate was now lost. He had to have enough of it for his formula and it would be ineffective if he obtained it through simply masturbating. He would have to go through this whole charade again with someone new and hope they were more competent.

     Bilt realised just how inconvenient everything had become when he tried to rise from the chair. When he had read the advertisement, a domina with a private dungeon had seemed ideal to him, but now he stared at the thick leather straps holding him in place with dismay and resignation.