"Mmmn--ngk!" Cehd'ra can make some noise, muffled around the tentacle gagging him. The panic starts to bubble up again as it presses deeper, the pointed tip of it brushing the back of his throat and making him gag in surprise. Meanwhile the one leg that had remained free is subjected to another cold brush over his ankle, this time the tentacle working under the clothes instead of over. Jerking his leg back does nothing, he can only pull back so far and it's too easy for the thing to follow, wedging the tendril between cloth and skin.

What the thing wants with them is still a mystery but more and more Cehd'ra fears it won't be good. All he can do is squirm and make muffled protests, looking up helplessly, watching He Ming try to see...and not wholly sure he wants to be seen.

He Ming feels off balance in the creature's grip, held upright as he is most of his weight is held by his arms...the thing twists He Ming about until it has him suspended horizontally. Now the weight feels better and with that mild distraction handled it goes back to finding ways under the man's clothing. The easiest spot from here is still around He Ming's middle, a tentacle squirming down the back of his pants, testing and poking about.