Settling down, He Ming's shuddering slows and finally stops. Regardless of how dangerous or strange this situation is, it's Cehd'ra. He feels good.

Cehd'ra, meanwhile, appears to be struggling. Managing to open his eyes, He Ming looks at him with some surprise to see his overwhelmed reaction. Unable to move well with the weight in his stomach, he settles for trying to crane his neck and trying to reassuringly stroke the back of Cehd'ra's hands.

"What's wrong?" he whispers. He sucks in a quick breath when the creature flicks its tentacle at his asshole, trying not to get distracted. "Are you okay?"

It doesn't seem so, but He Ming can't see what's going on. He doesn't see the creature wind one appendage around his tail. Coiling carefully around it, the tentacle strokes the fur with wet, sinuous movements.