All of them.

"Gah! Two! Two!" Her cry turned hoarse as her breath was driven out of her. Through frothing lips, Mrs. Nesbeth sucked in what air she could and held in within herself, doing anything she could to delay exhaling and therefore, delay Roland. It seemed to have worked, but only till the count count of five, to my counting, anyway. With another strike, Mrs Nesbeth screamed out "AH! Three! Three!"

With efficiency and timing that can only come from practice, Ian picked up from where Roland left off. Mrs. Nesbeth had her eyes closed and bared her teeth at us, focusing on her breathing while her lower body trembled under her second husband's... tender affections. She recovered some, but it was plainly evident that the sensations were getting to her. Her breathing quickly turned ragged, and her legs tugged hard upon the binds. "Mmmm...One-Two! Two!"

What followed after that was a cacophony of numbers, cracks and hisses as Mrs. Nesbeth spit out her choices. My guess is that she was making her choices based on what she wanted to avoid more than what she wanted to receive. "You've been avoiding Three for a while now. Are you close to climaxing, you pain-loving whore, Whore?" Anthony taunted, striking across her chest a little faster than he usually does.

Mrs. Nesbeth growled and snarled at him, before his next move reminded her of her place. "Yes, Sir." she hissed.

Not hearing a new number, Anthony carried on whipping her. She grunted and winced but still did not change her request, her eyes shifting slowly from him to me. Ian was the one who caught it too. "Oh ho!" he said, coming close to me. "Now we know why she's been holding out. She wants our guest to be the one who makes her climax."

My jaw went slack. I turned to look at him, and all he had was a smile on his face. The room had gone eerily quiet, but the next sound made my chest tighten. "Yes, Sir." Mrs. Nesbeth panted, completely unprompted.

Her husbands looked to each other and pursed their lips. I found myself stood up and pulled towards her, and a whip being pressed into my hand. "And which is your choice for him?"

"Three. Three." she begged, lust and desire dancing madly in her eyes. "Sir, please. Three. Please. Three. Three."