Well, this was a weird change. Charon had gone from being inches away from the mouth of Charon's tail while he groped and gagged her, to being concealed behind one of his wings in order to preserve her modesty. She'd heard the expression "don't look a gift horse in the mouth," before, but sometimes, when your enemy gives you a gift horse, it's because it's diseased, or possessed, or covered in explosive enchantments or something. She looked him over, suspiciously. The massage had been nice, though. It had calmed her down a great deal. Despite how, um--slimy--it was. She was never going to get used to that bloody tongue. At least the dancer seemed to be enjoying herself. Maybe she'd last a while. She squirmed where she stood, glancing at Charon and wondering what he expected her to do.