It was the 1980’s, the days of green text on computer screens and laborious printouts. He was a trainee at the Anglo Evangelist Housing Company put there to see that all the company’s clients had their needs met when they moved in. The team he worked with were all women. They rather clucked over him and tried to fuss him like a dozen mothers requiring a subservient teenage child rather than the obvious intractable rebels they had at home. He was alone living in a bed-sitting room. Although he never admitted it , he rather liked the fuss, especially from the boss of the section Ms Morphia-Sophor. He never could understand the name, only that when he heard it he felt very dreamy and secure and wanting. So wanting to please this lady who would waft sensually through the office always in liquid like white satin blouses and long , so long satin pencil skirts split so silkily alluringly just below the thigh swishing hypnotically as they trailed back and forth before his mesmerized eyes. Back and forth, they caught the office lights so strikingly, enticingly, and sweetly swaying like a gossamer image of a sweet caressing ocean of black, soothing silken ripples.

imagine his delight when she invited him to be her assistant in the nationwide charity conference.

When they set off he swore he would be alert, but in the back of her company vehicle with a lady company driver he soon felt his eyes succumb to the rocking motion of her car. The next thing he knew he was jolted awake, his head on his boss’s silken shoulder. Worst still he had dribbled saliva over her sleek satin blouse.

“I-I am so so sorry Ms Morphia” he stammered. She placed a re-assuring hand on his upper back. “It’s ok-It’s ok” she said soothingly and then a little sternly “But you’ll need to be alert tomorrow at the conference. You’ll need a good nights sleeeep”

He seemed to tune in to the way she said the word “Sleeep” like she was somehow mocking him. He remembered as a child that his female cousins, being older than him, had sung him the Brahms Lullaby and how he had succumbed. He remembered nestling across their laps. He remembered their caring yet mildly cruel faces, like they felt they had some control over him that he could not break.

this lady seemed the same. He , defensively got up and stayed alert–but was always conscious of his boss lady’s face near to his. She seemed to relish the fact that he was so tired and sleepy in her presence.

They arrived and the plenary session of the conference went well. But unfortunately for him that soft, sleepy feeling invaded his attempts to concentrate and his dreamy eyes succumbed to the young lady’s gently undulating voice from the platform. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his boss shake her head.

Later, when all others were at the usual bland , dance event at such non events he decided to get his head down. He would sleep and be up early. His boss Ms Morphia would be impressed.

nothing could be further from the truth. He tossed and turned. The thoughts in his head simply would not switch off, no matter how he tried to quell there advance. He had just got to sleep when- Suddenly , their was a knock at the door.

he answered it to find Ms Morphia looking at him in a concerned and caring yet deeply possessive manner. But what she was wearing really took his breath away. She was clad in the most flimsy exquisite satin gown that flowed like a glowing river as the light from the corridor caught it.

his eyes were swimming with sleep. She took hold of him and guided him to the bed. He felt his head slam sleepily against her satin swathed bosom. He nestled there and felt that he was in heaven. She softly rocked him in her arms, back and forth like a little, tired baby. He did not want to argue. He was lightweight and she easily rocked him back and forth, back and forth. Then stroking his forehead back and forth too.

“My dear little boy , you were sound asleep when I came in weren’t you? Weren’t you my tired dear one, my little, sleepy angel?”

he could not help but nod, for he did not want to move.

“Now you must rest. You must rest and be all mine. I’ve watched you my beautiful, little darling boy. We all have. We all want to lull you; to soothe you; to hold your tired, little head against our silken swathed, satin bosoms like a sleepy little child. And, if truth be told, you like that don’t you?”

“yessss …oh yesss” he said

“You need to rest my darling, to sleep. This satin isn’t just satin, it’s satin-charmeuse. It’s so much more fragile, so much more silky. And it will soothe you so much deeper into sleepy submission, into my world, into the world of silken surrender, of satin slumberland, of silky dreamy-byes. You are my little, submissive child and I am lulling your little head into sleeep , lulling your tired mind into satin surrender, silken sleeeep, silken sleep, silken sleep.”

as she soothed him, she rolled on top of him. She lifted her silken skirted thighs to take up his long, swelling manhood. “It’s not only my urge to nurse you to satin lullaby-land that drives me my sweet sexxxilly sleeeping, little darling. It’s your ever hardening manhood pushing against my moist and soft wet womanhood that drives me to lull you into sexy satin fairyland my little sweet mesmerized and , well, hardened little angel. Now we are going to have fun all night long as you sleeeepily and seeexxxilly satisfy me. And then you will allow me to drift your engorged but empty mind into satiated and soothed and lovingly contented, sweet, sleepy oblivion.”

She eyed his dreamy eyes, half open and his throbbing manhood. “But that will be some time away won’t it my baby?” Was the last thing she said before climbing on top of him; holding his mesmerized, sleepy head to her breasts; and feeling his erect manhood rise as she caressed his forehead and neck…..