"What are you doing?" the smaller of the two women asked, as she approached from down the hotel corridor, having just exited from the elevator.

"Just getting some ice." I continued to ladle some ice cubes into my bucket, while I modestly stayed facing the ice dispenser to ensure no frontal view.

"Why are you naked?" queried the taller one, as they stopped only five to six feet from me. She had stopped to ask this question, and this seemed to encourage the other woman, who had seemed to want to walk on past, to stop also.

"Well, I woke up thirsty, needing a drink, so I came down here to get some ice to go with my drink," I casually replied.

"But didn't you know that someone might see you?" she asked, as she moved a little more to my side.

"Of course I thought there would be a possibility, but at this hour it would be most unlikely." It was around three am, and I had challenged myself to leave my room naked, walk down the corridor past the elevators to the ice machine, fill my ice bucket, and return.

"But what if you were seen?" The smaller lady came even closer, wide-eyed and confident. She was now more to my side than behind me, and more than likely had some view of my cock.

"There is excitement daring myself to take such chances, then to suffer whatever consequences if discovered." I turned a little to face them, holding the bucket strategically in a faked display of continuing modesty. I guessed the women to be in their mid to late forties, (I was thirty-seven at the time), dressed conservatively and a little tipsy, but certainly not drunk. 

"But you could get into a whole lot of trouble," contributed the taller one, displaying some degree of concern.

"I know. But it is never my desire to alarm or offend. I am making no sexual advances, I show no aggression, and observers are free to move on without concern. The fact is, in this situation, I am the vulnerable one, being naked, and you have the power, so to speak. I don't think you want to get me into trouble for merely being naked. You can move on; you can allow me to entertain you by taking advantage of my situation; you can scream in horror and run to report me. The choice is yours. I am here to comply with your wishes." I spoke softly, nervously hoping for a positive reaction, but doing nothing physically to progress the situation.

"What do you mean by 'entertaining' us?"

I detected a significant degree of interest in this question, so I decided to go for broke. The ladies were showing no signs of going away, were both giving my body sneaky glances, and appeared quite comfortable with proceedings. "My guess is, that a compliant naked young man does not often present himself for your harmless amusement. We do not know each other, we will never meet again, we have no common acquaintances, and privacy is just between we three."

"So you are offering to entertain us by you being naked for us to look at, like at a male strip club?" questioned one. We now found ourselves in a discussion attempting to lay out the boundaries of such a proposal.

"Did you expect us to contribute in any way?" was the somewhat nervous question.

"Yes, but only in so far as to give the orders," I explained.

"What sort  of things do you expect us to ask for?" came a somewhat puzzled query.

"That is entirely up to you. Just think about what you may have ever wanted a compliant male to do, at your command, and I am here to submit to your wishes," I responded.

"You mean we can get you to do whatever we want?" was the somewhat disbelieving query.

"Probably not here. I would not mind, but you probably don't wish to be discovered. We could go to one of your rooms. We could go to mine. There I would be most vulnerable, because you could report me, and tell authorities where I could be found." The ladies backed away a little, whispering to each other while assessing my offer.

"So to get things straight, we call the shots. You comply fully. We are under no obligations ourselves. It ends when and how we say it ends. Sounds crazy." 

"Crazy, but fun," I agreed. 

They then went into a little more whispered discussion with each other, before the taller one issued the statement, "We are interested in exploring this experience but make no promises. Take us to your room." 

So I led them back past the elevators, up the corridor to my room. I now held the bucket to one side, my cock no longer fully flaccid, but still not quite in their sight. I had left the door with the latch preventing closure and entered in front of my audience. Each one peered inside before entering, obviously looking for any possible danger. The second woman left the door resting on the latch, so as it would not close completely, facilitating rapid escape if necessary. I motioned to the two chairs for them to use, placed the ice bucket on the desk and turned to afford them full view of my nudity.

"Lovely legs and bottom," opined one.

"Yes, but a little disappointing in the manliness department," replied the other.

"Cute though. Don't you love his hairlessness? And he's circumcised! He looks like a little boy!" They looked closely at me, then at each other, giggling. I proceeded to get a thorough, and mainly complimentary, appraisal. One reached out with a finger, placed it carefully under the head of my cock and lifted it in order to study the underside. By this time, my cock had grown somewhat from its initial disappointing size, filling me with pride. But it was, by no means, erect.

"This is fun. Dance a bit. Swivel that thing for us," ordered one. Of course I complied, swinging my cock around with gay abandon. The giggles kept coming.

"Turn around and bend over," ordered the other. "Keep swinging that cock!" I obeyed enthusiastically.

"Now grab your cock and pull it back to face us."

"God, I wish I had my camera," suggested one.

"I have one in my room," countered the other.

Each was reluctant to leave the other alone with me, in order to get the camera. One even courteously asked if I would mind being photographed. In those days there were no electronic cameras, no internet, no Facebook, so I was not unduly concerned. So the camera was obtained by us all going back to the women's room, me wearing the hotel bathrobe and then returning.

Back in my room, naked again, I was put through a variety of poses, each one a little more "adult" than the last. Very soon I began to ooze pre-cum and to have an erection, much to their delight. After full frontal snaps, they turned their focus onto my arse and particularly my little hole. They were fascinated by its lack of surrounding hair, its pinkness and tightness. I was asked to spread my cheeks, so as to expose it more fully, and in the best possible light. At this stage I was kneeling on the edge of the bed, my arse looking straight at the camera.

Without any request to do so, I let my index finger wander over my little hole, and penetrate it ever so slightly. Bringing it back to my mouth, I saturated it with spittle, before returning it to make a deeper inroad. I had the finger inserted to the knuckle, before I heard the camera save the image for their later enjoyment.

Now, with my face on the bed, arse in the air, I began to rub, with my free hand, my pre-cum around and along my shaft. They were now out of their chairs, closing in on the action. I began to breathe heavily as I became aware that my audience was doing likewise. As my cock hardened, I pulled it back as far as I could manage, so that it was now looking at the camera from below my arse.  The camera saved this image for later enjoyment and possible sharing.

"Stand up again, so we can have a good look at your erection," was the order, as the women backed away to resume their chairs.

So I stood before them again, but this time fully erect. I was requested to position my cock up, down, and side to side, while they giggled again as it quivered back into position. 

"How old are you?" I was asked.

"Thirty-eight," I replied.

"Goodness, I thought you might have been less than twenty-five," responded the questioner with some relief. "Your body is like an alabaster statuette, so clean, pure, and athletic." She began to run her hands, ever so lightly, over my body, from face to knees. "So smooth and unencumbered." She touched my cock, but only lightly, focussing instead on the area nearby, running her hand through what should have been pubic hair. She invited her friend to experience the same fascinating skin.

"That bottom of yours is so sweet, but it is very naughty. Mummy thinks she should give you a good spanking. Come here, and bend over!"

Instead, I lay down across her knee, ensuring that my cock pushed back between her knees and me, so that it remained visible and vulnerable. The spanking was not severe, and occasionally the head of my cock felt a little of her discipline. She increased the vigour a little at my request, but was clearly unwilling to inflict too much pain. 

I was now asked to offer my arse for spanking by the other lady. As I rose, I ensured that my cock wiped across the face of my first disciplinarian, leaving a little stream of pre-cum behind. The second lady was a bit more willing with her punishment, but only enough to enjoy the handprints, followed by the pinkness that she left on my bottom. However, she did reach down to my eager cock and spread its wetness around before gripping it tightly; and pulling her hand, just as tightly, down its length several times.

"Get down on the floor on all fours. Mummy wants you to give me a pony ride," the smaller one commanded. She sat across my back, smacked my bottom, and ordered me to convey her around the room. "What a good little boy you are," she admitted.

The taller one approached me from the rear, while I still carried the other lady, and adorned my cock with a hairpiece she had extracted from her hair. I felt some pain, as the metal teeth seemed to bite into me, and this pain increased as I continued my pony act, still being encouraged by slaps to my bottom. "Likes a little pain," she commented, as I heard the camera click again..

I was allowed to stand again and noticed that the taller woman was removing laces from my shoes. She ordered me to stand before her while she released my cock from the shackle with which she had engulfed it. Visible teeth marks remained. She allowed the other lady to closely inspect these marks.

"I've always wanted to do this," she explained as she now bent down, surrounding my cock with her mouth, and sunk her own teeth into me. It was a brief bite, before she released my cock to inspect her work. She repeated this several times, each time a little more aggressively, grinding her teeth into me then releasing me, inspecting her marks and inviting her friend to investigate the results. The camera clicked again.

"Don't ruin his darling little pee-pee," suggested the smaller one. 

The taller lady then started tying my shoe-laces in various ways around my cock and balls. Each time they would sit back and comment on the effect, laugh, and take a photo if they thought the image worthy of prosperity. The effect they seemed to enjoy most had my balls inflated, sitting on top of of my cock, squeezed down between them.

By this stage, I was feeling much more like an observer than a participant. I was left out of the discussion, except to receive orders. Otherwise the talk was entirely between the two ladies, as one might expect in a discussion over recipes, or fashions. "Do you like this?" "What do you think of that?" Part of me was a spectator, part was a subject. I revelled in both roles.

"Does bubba want do pee-pee?" asked the smaller one. She handed me a glass, saying, "Do pee-pees for mummy. Careful now."

I peed into the glass, holding off as it almost filled and the glass replaced. I felt pleasantly humiliated, both by the act itself and by being treated as a child. The women picked up on this. "Drink up for mummy," I was instructed, given one glass after the other to consume. I did so, with child-like pleasure. "There's a good boy," I was rewarded.

The taller lady took the glasses into the bathroom to wash. She returned with my hair brush and a tube of sunscreen. "Does bubba want to be a little bunny wabbit?"

The lotion was applied to my arsehole and to the handle of the brush, which was then introduced into my eager little hole. They invited me to entertain them with a variety of childish games, the brush acting as bunny's tail. I must have looked stupid, and I certainly felt so. They were wallowing in their humiliation of me. My cock and balls were tied up again with my shoe-laces, and with the brush firmly in place, I crawled around the room to their great amusement. Finally, I was instructed to crawl out of my room, into the corridor for some vulnerable exposure before being allowed back inside.

Now inside my room, the shoe-laces were undone, and I felt the pleasure of a hand, still greasy from the lotion that had been applied earlier, soothe my desperate cock. "Does that feel better now?" I was asked, as my cock responded excitedly. 

"You can jerk off now," were the last words I heard, as the women, laughing, left me alone in my room. I never saw them again.