As well as I could be.

But I was not prepared for Anthony to grab Mrs. Nesbeth's cheeks and wrench her head to face him. "That is the last time you interrupt our fun, whore," he snarled, while the other two whispered to each other and nodded. "The only thing that's allowed to come out of your mouth are the words 'Yes Sir', do you hear me?" She just glared at him in defiance. To punish her for her rebellion, Anthony reached out and slapped her breast. Mrs. Nesbeth growled her scream but said nothing. His brow furrowed and he slapped the other breast even harder. "DO YOU HEAR ME?!" he roared over her wail of pain. I was unsure of which noise I flinched back from, but with deep shuddering breaths, Mrs. Nesbeth looked back at him and shakily whispered, "...yes, sir."

With a grin that could only be described as Malicious, Anthony planted his lips over hers and kissed her deeply. Ian and Roland kept themselves busy by looping some ropes around her wrists and ankles. There seems to be some sort of hierarchy amongst her husbands, clearly with her First at the Top. Roland comes around from behind them and taps Anthony's shoulder. Anthony looked up and after seeing what Roland had in his hands, he broke his kiss and roughly drove their wife onto her back. He quickly joined Ian in attaching even more ropes to the ones already on her.

Roland hadn't been idle either. Twirling the glass rod he had in his hand, he rather unceremoniously jammed the rounded end of it into Mrs. Nesbeth's pussy and started thrusting into her madly. She screamed and writhed, trying her best to squirm away, but their task completed, Ian and Anthony had her secured to their dining table, unable to move and completely at their mercy. And, truth be told, so was I, sitting there either too transfixed or terrified to even blink, lest I miss even the slightest detail.

Pulling the rod out of her lower mouth, Roland held it above her proper mouth, her juices dripping off of it and leaned down to her. "You want to taste yourself?" he growled. While it was phrased like a question, from the tone of his voice, it was evident that it was statement, that had only one answer.

"Yes, sir," Mrs. Nesbeth gasped before, without warning, Roland shoved the rod into her mouth. She coughed and sputtered, but he did not let up.

"You truly are a Natural born Slut, aren't you?" Ian chimed in, beckoning me over to them. I leaned forwards as far as I dare, and he spread her red lower lips apart, allowing a steady stream of liquid to pour out of his wife's pussy. Somehow, in between the short breaths that Roland allowed her to have, Mrs. Nesbeth manages to reply the only way she's given leave to. "And does it excite you even more, to have a complete stranger see you, the real You, tied down to a table, helpless and defenseless, unable to stop us from doing whatever we want to you?" Her body answered for her as her lower lips blinked at me and a fresh river of liquid began to flow.

Mrs. Nesbeth's head had rolled back, her eyes closed shut and her breathing was ragged, when Anthony poked Roland's arm with the handle of one of the whips. Leaving the rod in her mouth, her husbands shuffled around her body, all armed with their own whip and pushed me back into my seat, telling me to keep out of their way.