Enjoy her accomodation

Tommy continued using Melissa's mouth for several minutes, occasionally giving Brandon degrading instructions on how to direct his wife. The powerful CEO who commanded boardrooms stood naked and compliant, the cosmic understanding stripping him of his authority in his own home.

"Fuck, that's good," Tommy groaned, pulling Melissa off him before he finished. "But I need to test all aspects of your hospitality. A good host offers their guest complete comfort and satisfaction."

He pulled Melissa up onto the sofa, positioning her on her hands and knees on the pristine white cushions. "Brandon, come hold your wife's hands. Support her while she's being hospitable."

Brandon moved woodenly to the sofa, kneeling in front of Melissa and taking her hands in his. Their eyes met, both filled with confusion and shame, yet both compelled to continue this farce of an "examination."

"I love you," Brandon whispered, quiet enough that he hoped Tommy wouldn't hear.

Tommy positioned himself behind Melissa, gripping her hips with his dirty hands. "Now, let's see how accommodating your wife really is."

Without preparation or gentleness, Tommy pushed himself into Melissa, causing her to cry out in pain. Brandon flinched but remained in position, holding her hands as instructed.

"Fuck, your wife's tight," Tommy grunted to Brandon. "Guess you don't use this much, huh? Too busy making money to keep your woman satisfied?"

"Please," Brandon began, his voice breaking. "You don't have to—"

"Shut up," Tommy snapped. "Questioning the guest's actions is an automatic failure. Do you want to fail?"

"No," Brandon whispered, defeated.

Tommy established a rough rhythm, gripping Melissa's hips hard enough to leave marks. "This is a proper hospitality examination," he panted. "Testing every... aspect... of your welcome."

Melissa bit her lip to keep from crying out, her body rocking with each thrust. The physical invasion was horrible enough, but having Brandon witness it added an unbearable layer of humiliation.

*Just get through it,* she told herself. *He'll finish and leave and we'll never speak of this again.*

Tommy reached around to roughly grope her breasts. "These are nice. Real?"

When Melissa didn't immediately answer, he slapped her ass hard. "A good host answers their guest's questions promptly."

"Yes," she gasped. "They're real."

"Nice," Tommy grunted, increasing his pace. "Your husband's a lucky man. Though he doesn't seem to appreciate what he's got. Look at him—can't even get it up watching his hot wife."

Brandon's face burned with shame as Tommy mocked his lack of arousal at watching his wife being violated.

"Actually," Tommy said, slowing his thrusts, "I think we should change positions. Want to test the hospitality in every room of this mansion. Brandon, lead the way to your bedroom."

Brandon led the way upstairs, his naked body tense with suppressed rage and humiliation. Melissa followed, her arms wrapped around herself, while Tommy strutted behind them, openly admiring Melissa's body from behind.

"Nice master bedroom," Tommy whistled as they entered the spacious room with its king-sized bed and panoramic windows overlooking a manicured backyard. "Memory foam mattress? Fancy."

"Yes," Brandon confirmed stiffly, standing awkwardly by the bed.

Tommy flopped down on the carefully made bed, spreading his limbs wide. "Mmm, comfy. A good host provides the best sleeping arrangements for their guest."

"Would you like to rest?" Melissa asked hopefully, seeing a potential end to their ordeal.

Tommy laughed. "Not tired yet. Just getting started with the examination." He patted the bed beside him. "Join me, both of you. Let's see how accommodating this mattress is."

Brandon and Melissa exchanged **** glances before complying, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed.

"No, no," Tommy chided. "A proper host doesn't perch nervously. Get comfortable! Brandon, lie down here beside me. Melissa, on the other side."

They robotically followed his instructions, lying stiffly on either side of him on their own bed.

"That's better," Tommy nodded. "Now, I think it's time to test how far you're willing to go to provide complete hospitality." He turned to Brandon. "As the man of the house, you should demonstrate your commitment to guest satisfaction."

Brandon swallowed hard. "What would you like me to do?"

Tommy grinned maliciously. "Switch places with your wife. You provide the oral hospitality now."

Brandon's face drained of color. "I... I can't. I've never..."

"Inhospitable response," Tommy said sharply. "Do you want to fail this examination? Do you know what happens to homes that fail?"

The cosmic understanding once again filled Brandon's mind with terrifying, nonspecific consequences. Financial ruin. Social destruction. Mysterious forces making their lives hell.

"No," Brandon whispered, defeated. "I want us to pass."

"Then show me some proper hospitality," Tommy demanded, grabbing Brandon's shoulder and pushing him down toward his crotch.

With mechanical movements, Brandon positioned himself between Tommy's legs, his entire being rebelling against what he was about to do. The powerful CEO, reduced to this in his own home.

"Melissa, help your husband," Tommy instructed. "Guide him. Show him how it's done."

Tears streaming down her face, Melissa moved beside Brandon, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met briefly, a moment of shared misery and solidarity.

"Just... use your lips and tongue," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Try to relax your throat."

Brandon closed his eyes and leaned forward, the cosmic compulsion forcing him past his revulsion. As his lips touched Tommy, he gagged reflexively.

Tommy laughed cruelly. "Your husband needs practice, Melissa. Not very hospitable."

"He's trying," Melissa defended weakly.

"Not good enough," Tommy said, grabbing Brandon's head and forcing him down. "A good host puts real effort into pleasing their guest."

Brandon gagged again as Tommy thrust upward, but the cosmic compulsion prevented him from pulling away. Decades of confidence and authority stripped away in moments, the successful executive now on his knees servicing a homeless man in his own bedroom.

"Better," Tommy grunted after a few minutes of torturing Brandon. "But I think your wife has more natural talent." He pushed Brandon away roughly. "Now for the main event. I want to try out this fancy bed properly."

Tommy positioned himself in the center of the bed. "Melissa, come ride your guest. Show some enthusiastic hospitality. Brandon, you're going to help guide her. Make sure she's doing a good job."

Melissa moved woodenly to straddle Tommy, her eyes vacant as she tried to disconnect from what was happening. Brandon knelt beside them, his expression haunted.

"That's it," Tommy grinned as Melissa lowered herself onto him. "Now bounce a little. Show some enthusiasm! Brandon, put your hands on her hips. Help her move."

Brandon placed his hands gently on his wife's hips, guiding her movements as instructed. The intimate act of touching his wife while another man was inside her added a new dimension of psychological ****.

"Tell her she's being a good host," Tommy instructed Brandon.

"You're... you're doing well," Brandon said hollowly. "Good... good hospitality."

"Fuck yeah," Tommy groaned, gripping Melissa's breasts roughly. "Your wife feels amazing, Brandon. You're a lucky man. Though I guess you don't appreciate what you've got, or you'd keep her satisfied enough that she wouldn't be enjoying this so much."

Melissa wasn't enjoying it at all, but the suggestion that she might be added another layer of cruelty to the situation. Brandon's jaw clenched, but he remained silent, the cosmic compulsion preventing him from challenging the "guest."

"Switch positions," Tommy ordered after a few minutes. "I want to try everything this bed has to offer."