A~Introducing HIM

Neither my bestie, Jodi, nor I, Trudi, are what you would describe as an oil painting. Well, Jodi is trim, and fit, so a little presentable, whilst I am a bit on the curvaceous side. We became good friends because we close, respectively, the bar and the restaurant-café of a smallish English seaside hotel. So we shared a lifestyle in terms of times of day – and several more basic interests.

The only other person working overnight was the desk clerk-auditor, who came on at midnight. But he rarely had much if anything to do, so he spent the first 30 minutes in the restaurant – pestering me – then followed me into the bar for the next 30 minutes to continue pestering me and wait for Jodi to finish. At which point he could pester both of us, with a particular focus on Jodi.

He wasn't subtle. On any given night he wanted to sleep with one... in fact, preferably both...of us. And he tried everything. Constantly mentioning which room was available, and reminding us he would sleep there for a time during his shift – in case, you know, we wanted to join him.

Then he started suggesting we join him for cards – "You know," he would say, every night, "solitaire is pretty boring" – then he would add quickly, "it would just be for matchsticks."

And pester he did. Every night. Until finally Jody said, "okay. Let's do it. Which room was that again?" Then she added," Do lay in wine please. Here. This white. I'll bill it to you at employee rates. Oh, " and she covered his hand on the bottle briefly, " and play your cards right and, well, we'll see."

What he did not know...what he could not know...what he will not know unless and until he reads this account is that Jodi used to deal cards at the casino.

So if you are not interested in a nuanced true account of a CFNM situation, during which an essentially good if slightly devious man is manipulated, reading on may not be the best use of your time...

*****

Simple really. Fold now and I would be naked. She would not. The trim little one sitting on my left, her knee brushing mine from time to time. They would not. Neither of them. So how does a reasonable mature male get himself into this sort of predicament?

In fairness, I had been the one to initiate the game. Pursued them for several weeks actually, since we were usually the only three on shift in the hotel late on or overnight. Promised them we would only play for matchsticks, that sort of thing. And they had finally taken me up on it. Now we were all in a vacant room, around one of those tight little hotel room tables. And they had turned the tables, literally, insisting we play strip.

More to the point, what does this particular reasonable mature adult do with a pair of 8s, Jack high? When he's down to his briefs, and, well, horny, so less than focussed...

Jodi the slim brunette tapped the edge of her cards on the table sharply – snapping me out of my reverie.

Startled, needing to do something, I reached down with my free hand, pulled out the thick elastic of my briefs an inch or so then released it to 'pop' back against my abs. "Check."

Only then did I wonder if either of them had managed a peek down my briefs when I stretched the elastic. But that was short-lived, fleeting.

Because believe me I was praying, and sweating, but showing my best most effective smile, because the game was actually 'table stakes' and I really was rolling the dice and hoping they wouldn't claim the briefs on the spot.

"Problem is," Trudi said, forcing me to turn my smile on her, whilst I waited for, well, a good few seconds, whilst she fingered the chips in her pile, contemplating them, then tossed in two – before she completed the thought with: "you can't Check at this point in the hand. So I'm going to See, and Raise."

Call?! Call you fool. Jesus. Call, not Check.

Jodi immediately matched Trudi and both turned their eyes on me. Full glare. Overtly. Trudi to my right dropped her gaze below the table edge to fix on the bulge in my briefs – the now seething, quivering, trapped erection. Jodi on my left fixed, well, I think she was alternating between my bulge and my breathing. Which had become distinctly erratic.

"Okay..." I had to clear my throat, try again, "Okay..." Not much better and both were grinning at me now. "Briefs and one, ya know – what's the word?" I was drawing a blank, completely.

"Forfeits," Jodi offered.

Trudi chuckled, winking, "Think torments. Uh-uh," she was quick to wag the finger of her free hand, "Briefs now – we'll decide the torment in a minute, should you lose of course."

So, trapped between the two of them, both clearly relishing my situation, I hefted enough to peel the thick elastic out and down and let my briefs drop to the garish hotel carpet.

"Right off, I think." That was Jodi.

"And standing," Trudi gestured.

Trudi did not beat me. Standing there stark naked between two fully clothed women it seemed unwise to celebrate. And before that fleeting thought had even passed, Jodi had turned up a pair of 10s.

They bickered. More or less ignoring me – except as another item of furniture.

Jodi suggested, "If we move the table here and he had one foot up on the bed, Captain Morgan-like, we could study both his cock and his balls..."

Trudi interrupted her with, "I think we get the table out of the way and make him stand, legs spread..."

"What about...?"

The only thing they had agreed on was that term would be the 'torment' and that my 'torment' from the last hand would be my pose for the duration of the next hand. They had also agreed that I had to play at least one more hand...oh, and that any screening of the view of either of them, however fleeting, intentional or accidental, would constitute an automatic Raise for each of them.

In all the moving about, Jodi contrived to brush against my now exposed erection, sending my world red and hazy.

Trudi matched her seconds later.

"Sorry..." "Sorry..." It was about that close together.

Neither meant it of course. The apology.

And it would happen again. And again. The brushes and nudges. Because of course we were in a hotel room, three adults in that small space between the end of the bed and the wall – and because of course they wanted it to happen. So that in short, by the time they came to an agreement...and dealt the next hand, Jodi dealing, I was a sweating, nervous wreck.

And immensely, idiotically grateful that they had, at Trudi's eventual suggestion, allowed me to sit on the very foot of the bed. In fact, I was so grateful I did not even recognize the impossibility of my position.

Snapping her fingers, to create that short sharp shock of sound, Jodi, grinning, said: "I claim a Raise" .

Unfair was an understatement. I had no table, and now could not drop my hand into my lap – because Jodi was directly opposite in one of the armchairs and any downward movement below my navel would block her view of my erection.

Another finger snap punctuated the silence. "So do I," Trudi added, also grinning.

Because she was on my right, almost but not quite parallel, with a clear view unless I dropped my free hand to scratch or adjust my erection (and who can resist the absolute imperative to touch and comfort an erection?). Short version: I had to keep my left hand, with the 'hand' of cards at least chest high and my right hand clamped to my hip. The outside of my hip.

And they were working me over, first one talking, then the other – alternating, quick bursts, banter. But I only realized this later. Because at this moment in the evening, I think...I think it was right after they had each claimed that first automatic Raise during my, quote, Penalty-Pose Torment, unquote, that Jodi snapped her fingers, again, causing my heart to jump, again, and asked, "By the way, what Torments are we demanding?"

"Hmm...good question," Trudi replied, turning her cards face down the table beside her and reaching for the wine. "Are we thinking pain or humiliation?"

"Both?" Jodi had also put her cards face down, on the table. "I don't know." She was holding out her glass.

No one offered me wine and I had to keep my cards chest high.

"It's not a bad ass," Trudi said.

"You thinking whip?"

"Crop...whip...but maybe that's too detailed. Why not time?"

"1 hour per chip, that sort of thing?"

"Okay. Then we can collect at our leisure, according to our whim at the time."

"That work for you?" Jodi asked...me?

What could I say? Sure, whip my ass, down in the lobby. It will be a show for the guests.

"Sounds good to me, " Trudi answered...for me? " Then another finger snap, "Hand," and she gestured for me to lift my hand out of her view.

"Double Raise for touching himself?" Jodi suggested.

"Good. Umh" Trudi pulled over the hotel pad and pen. "I'll keep track. I make it 4 so far."

Jodi used her fingers, raising one at a time. "Yes. 4 each. And I'm going to bet." She put down her wine and pushed a chip into the more central part of the table to create a pot, which of course I could not reach – or even see clearly.

"Okay." Trudi placed the pen on the pad, and tossed in a chip. "See."

I had no say, apparently. Because Jodi simply tossed in a chip and said, "Raise."

"See, and Raise," replied Trudi – and there were two clicks almost simultaneously.

It was surreal, disorienting.

Until Jodi said, "Is that pre-cum?" and I looked down to find her out of the chair and within a foot or so of my quivering penis. "It is." Reseating, she added: "See, and Raise."

"I love pre-cum. See, and Raise."

"What do you think of circumcised heads?"

"Take it or leave it. See, and Raise."

"Really? See, and Raise. I think they look and feel, you know, more finished somehow. Should we punish him for the pre-cum, by the way."

"Sure. Automatic Raise okay?" Trudi put more pen hash marks on the pad quickly.

My erection was moving on its own. You know, twitching, and lifting, etc. Ridiculous I know, but I wasn't included in the hand – couldn't even remember my cards, was reacting only on the visceral level – as though each comment, and every Raise was a blow directly to my erection. (You don't have to believe that, by the way. But that was my perception)

I could not keep count.

I could not engage. I was paralyzed.

Jodi said something about how the "Captain Morgan pose would have been a workout" -earning a chuckle from Trudi.

"See, Raise."

"See, Raise."

There was a seemingly persistent click as one chip after another landed in the pot.

I tried, couldn't get the words out. More flash paced 'See, Raise' combinations ensued before I stood up abruptly and both of them stopped.

"I don't work that many hours."

Silence. Both sets of eyes turned on me.

"You don't work for the next two nights, right," from Trudi.

"And there's no reason to go home," Jodi said simply.

"More to the point," Trudi grinned, raising her wineglass in mock toast. "You just broke pose."

"And covered yourself," Jodi pointed out.

"Touched yourself," from Trudi, shaking her head, smiling and clicking her tongue.

Jodi finished her apparent thought with: "We'll tote it up officially, of course," her gaze turned to Trudi, "but I think we just own HIM," there was a definite emphasis on the 'him', "at least until the start of HIS next shift."

Trudi smiled, nodding...

For those interested in such things, 28 hours was the official count. Not that it mattered. I was going to be there until my next shift started, at least.

Given the choice between providing them with my password or trying to access the desk computer myself, downstairs at the front desk, stark naked, I meekly printed out my password on the pad with the number 28 written on it in large letters. At their insistence, I also initialed the 28 hours...like an IOU

And I was specifically posed for a Captain Morgan like series of pix...just to rub it in.

They took every stitch of my clothes and let themselves out. Leaving me in the Captain Morgan pose. They returned in due course, Jodi informing me they had booked the room, using cash I had from tips this week, in a fictional name.

It was Trudi who cupped my swollen balls, whilst I was struggling, exhausted, to maintain the pose. She smiled mischievously, and said, "This is HIM. For us, HE is the most important part of you. So keep HIM available, at all times..." And she tightened her grip, just enough to emphasize the point.

While Jodi took another set of pix.