His arms, already tired from holding himself up for so long, flailed uselessly as he alternately tried to lash out and push himself upwards. Sure enough, my lover learnt that letting go completely made his penetration smoother and he sighed in resignation. I wondered how far he would let me go before showing some assertiveness. How much more shame could he take? Would he let me do anything to him? I instructed him to fondle himself while I got a condom. He was ineffectual even at this so I pulled aside the bottom of the leotard and took him in my hand while telling him what was expected of him as a ballerina. "Do you know the basic positions for ballet?" I asked him. I couldn't honestly remember them so I made some up while telling him how well suited he would be.

When I leant in to kiss him on the sofa he froze like a shop window mannequin. Even when I slid my hand up his leg he remained inert. I stopped and asked him if he was alright, because, I said, I would get as much of a response from a china doll.He was crying "no" again but it was little more than a whimper. I shifted position partly so I could reach around to resume my stroking but also so I could pin him if he tried to assert himself. He cried out for me to stop but whether it was my continued stroking or the effect of the sexy lingerie he stayed in the same position, accepting his role as a passive sex object.

I could feel my orgasm building and held onto him tightly, controlling the rhythm as I needed it. As I spilled over I stared at him. His flushed face was turned to the side and his mouth lolled open. I hadn't noticed whether he had come or not and I didn't care. I encouraged him to relax while describing what was happening to him. "Feel how deeply you're taking me, darling, my whole length coursing through you." I leave them to take off their clothes in the bedroom and emerge from my bathroom in a nightdress and with a box for them to open while I clear away their clothes. The box tonight contained an ensemble of floral satin and white lace: a camisole and shorts and a delicate silk dressing gown.The lacy straps settled on his shoulders as I tugged down the silky bodice. "Now you'll let me take care of everything." My partner at the moment is sleeping now, bless him, after quite an exhausting evening of emotional manipulation. He won't stay for long -- few of them do -- but every waking moment will be precious. I was sighing too, delivering my monologue in shortened breaths. "You're loving it... dressed in your delicates... leading me on... panting... panting... panting like a sissy whore."