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Chapter 5
by Erosire
What should he request next?
Take it to the living room
Tommy groaned as she mechanically stroked his cock. "Fuck, that's good. You're being such a good host, Melissa. But I think we need to take this hospitality examination to the living areas. Can't judge a house just by its bathroom, right?"
Melissa nodded numbly, removing her hands from him as soon as he allowed it. "Of course. Whatever you need for your evaluation."
"Excellent," Tommy grinned, turning off the shower. "And since we're testing your hospitality, I think I'll stay comfortable. Clothes are so restrictive, don't you think? A good host wants their guest to be comfortable."
Melissa handed him a towel, which he used to roughly dry himself before tossing it on the floor. "You too," Tommy added. "If the guest is comfortable being natural, the host should match that comfort level. Shows solidarity."
She closed her eyes briefly, gathering her strength. *Just get through this examination. Then he'll leave and everything will go back to normal.*
"Of course," she whispered, leaving her clothes where they lay.
Tommy strutted naked through the upstairs hallway, water still dripping from his beard and hair onto the plush carpet. Melissa followed behind him, arms crossed over her breasts in a futile attempt at modesty.
"Nice fuckin' house," Tommy commented, running his hand along the expensive wallpaper. "Must be nice having all this while people like me sleep under bridges."
"We... we work very hard," Melissa offered weakly.
Tommy snorted. "Yeah, I bet Brandon works real hard pressing buttons on his computer while people kiss his ass all day."
They descended the grand staircase, Tommy leading the way as if he owned the place. In the living room, he flopped down on a pristine white sectional sofa, spreading his legs wide and patting the spot next to him.
"Sit," he commanded. "Let's chat about hospitality."
Melissa perched nervously on the edge of the sofa, as far from Tommy as she could manage while still technically sitting next to him.
"No, no," Tommy chided. "A good host sits close to their guest. Makes them feel welcome, not like they've got some disease."
Reluctantly, Melissa slid closer to him, the cosmic compulsion forcing her compliance despite every instinct screaming to run.
"Better," Tommy nodded, placing his dirty hand on her bare thigh. "Now, let's talk about refreshments. I'm kinda hungry after that shower. What've you got to eat in this palace?"
"I can make you anything you'd like," Melissa offered quickly, seizing the opportunity to escape his touch. "We have—"
"You seem tense," Tommy interrupted, squeezing her thigh. "A good host is relaxed, makes their guest feel at ease. Are you making me feel unwelcome, Melissa?"
"No! Not at all," she insisted, panic rising in her voice. "I want you to feel completely welcome."
"Then act like it," Tommy growled. "Stop covering yourself. Stop flinching every time I touch you. A good host embraces their guest's presence."
Inside, Melissa was screaming. *This isn't right! This is my home! I don't have to do this!* But the cosmic understanding overrode her natural resistance. The importance of passing this examination felt more crucial than anything else in her life.
She **** her arms to her sides, exposing her breasts. She manufactured a smile. "I'm sorry. You're absolutely right. How can I make you more comfortable?"
Tommy grinned, his hand moving higher up her thigh. "That's better. Now, about that food—I'm thinking you could bring me something to eat right here. Something... personal."
His meaning was clear, and Melissa felt her stomach turn. But the compulsion to be hospitable was overwhelming.
"Whatever you need for your evaluation," she whispered.
What does he need?
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The Job
It is not your average job
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