Dave moaned as he rolled out of bed, neither woman in the room. He was still naked when he padded down the hall to find his naked wife looking at a pad of paper.
"What are you doing?"
"Miss Elsa told me to make a three-to-five-minute video of what I liked and didn't like if I wanted her to come back for more. You're supposed to make a one-to-three-minute video of what you liked and didn't like. Once she has them, she will let us know if she will return."
"Miss Elsa? Where is Elsa?" Dave asked, looking around.
"She left and she has me calling her Miss Elsa when I submit." she looked at her husband. "My problem is that I loved everything. She was perfect, but I know if I don't find something to say bad, she'll be upset."
"We still have another woman to try out. She might be better."
Celeste didn't think so. Elsa was a decade younger than their thirty-two years ages, and with the looks and smile of Ann Margret. She seemed to understand, once Celeste was forced into admitting she had a cuckquean fantasy, what button to push to have Celeste submit to her, to watch her husband orgasm more intently than at any time in their four-year marriage. Lord knew she certainly came with more force than ever before, when it was allowed, that is.
Dave insisted in not making the videos until they met Debbie, the dark-haired woman he met online. Two evenings after they met Elsa, they met Debbie Stark at a strip mall, both wondering why there, even as Debbie texted it was for both their safety. It made sense but the strip mall was small and not well lit.
Debbie watched them pull in, uncertain as to what to do. She came at them at an angle, opening the backdoor and sliding in, closing the door before either could see her in any detail from the dome light.
"Well, about time we met. So, Dave, take me home so we can play."
"We wanted..." Celeste started saying but Debbie simply grabbed her hair and yanked backwards.
"No one needs to hear a cunt whine. Your husband will take us home, you will do as you're told, and if we're pleased after we've both cum, you may be allowed to play with your whore cunt until we tell you otherwise."
Dave drove them home, thinking his wife was happy with the treatment, his wife thinking she was scared to death of this aggressive woman in the backseat.
They drove into the garage, the door closed before Debbie got out, opened the front car door and dragged the scared woman by the hair out of the car, making her crawl inside, a fanbelt on the wall of the garage being used as a whip. Dave thought his wife was having fun, but soon realized Celeste was no way aroused any more than he.
Debbie didn't take kindly to being told they weren't interested in going further, Debbie demanding a ride home or cab fare. Celeste went to use her phone to call a cab, finally finding it in Debbie's purse, along with her wallet and Dave's phone, both phones missing batteries which she found as Debbie continued to berate Dave for wasting her time.
The cab arrived, Debbie was gone, and the couple shook their heads. Lesson learned, when trying a fantasy, don't bring in a psycho. They spent the evening making videos to send to Miss Elsa, instead of trying to cuckquean Celeste.
Friday night Miss Elsa arrived to eat dinner with them, discussing the videos of how much they loved their treatment at her hands. She asked why it took so long to do and send them, Dave apologizing for trying another girlfriend, but she was a total nut case.
"Dave, you're a piece of work and not in a good way. First you are happy to hear your wife will allow you to have girlfriends to fuck, then when you can't stop cumming long enough to actually have sex, you go out looking for a replacement model."
She looked at Celeste.
"Is there a reason you keep shifting? You got a cock up your ass again?"
"No, Miss Elsa, the other one beat my ass until I was crying and begging for her to stop. It's still sore."
"Show me."
Celeste took in a breath, like now? Like during dinner? She looked at Miss Elsa who frowned, the submissive wife quickly standing up, turning to pull up her dress and lower her panties. The ass was bruised in almost every square inch.
She sat back down, Miss Elsa looking at her over the rim of the wine glass as she sipped. She looked at Dave.
"I thought we established she wasn't to wear panties or anything to block our usage of her cunt or ass. Why did you allow her to wear panties?"
Dave wet his lips, not remembering much of the previous time since he kept have orgasms and passing out.
"Sorry, guess I forgot."
"Forgot? Dave, I get that husbands take a course in selective memory of what their wives say. I am not aware of a course husbands take to have selective memory for their girlfriends. Or are you lumping the whore who is starting to leak to the sexy female you keep looking at while getting an erection, together as one?"
Dave stared at the remains of his dinner, not sure why he was getting aroused as he was taken to task like a schoolboy. The rest of the meal was in silence. Once done, Elsa complimented Celeste for a good meal, told her to go to the bedroom and strip. Celeste quickly got up, speed walking down the hall.
"I'm going to tend to her. You, pet, will clear the table and clean up. You have a problem with that, after that lumping remark?"
"No, Elsa, I'm fine with it."
He felt himself get red, his tone and demeanor like that schoolboy. Miss Elsa had not done any violence to either of them, but he was worried she might now that he experienced Debbie's attitude.
Elsa walked into the bedroom, Celeste naked and kneeling at the end of the bed. They talked about Debbie's visit as Celeste lay on her back, her knees by her head, her ass fully exposed as Celeste applied cream to her own ass while Elsa supervised. For whatever the reason, Celeste was as horny now as when Miss Elsa first started dominating the submissive wife.
Dave finally came into the bedroom to see his wife kneeling naked while Miss Elsa was playing with his wife's long hair. She looked at him.
"Don't suppose your mind allows you to understand how to braid hair."
"Never did that."
"Get over here and learn." Elsa casually ordered, "I want her hair in a braid, not in a bun or hung loose unless I say so."
