Jules has no time to savor her annoyance,  He struggles once more, muscles pulling desperately, uselessly as the vines move again, this time trapping his hands against the stone table.  Another vine wraps about his forehead, and pulls it back.  Held there, he is held prisoner on that table, almost an offering to his captress.  Forced to look ahead.<br/><br/>Despite his situation, his eyes roam over her form.  While she is terrible, there is a beauty in her form.  He can feel his manhood stirring at the sight of her.  He gives a soft shake of his head, as she slips that... thing on.  He stares as the silver shaft, swallowing as her hand strokes it, like some sort of unworldly cock.<br/><br/>Jules eyes are fixed on that thing as it hovers there before his face.  Glancing to her face, he gives another shake of his head.  "Go ahead, do your worst, you are going to do that anyway," he growls back to her, then spits again, trying to hit her, and not the shaft before him.