<div class="floatleft"><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><div align="center"><strong>Syncope</strong></div></td></tr><tr><td>(https://i.imgur.com/Dy29FJL.jpg)</td></tr></tbody></table></div><br/>The human squirmed in delight against the probing tentacle, her body tensing and relaxing in mild quivers across her flesh as she was held helpless by Ungrath.  It was little wonder that Syncope was suddenly incapable of rendering intelligible responses to the questions being asked of her.  Instead her body forced little reactions for her as Ungrath's assault intensified.  The pinching and pulling of her nipples brought little squeaks between the moans the tentacle at her sex incited.  Her body flushed as her heart quickened, pumping blood more quickly throughout her body and to each of the excited, sensitive erogenous zones that were being so casually toyed with.<br/><br/>"Ah...ah!" she whimpered as her body was flexed in its bound state, arms and legs pulled back to put her taut abdomen, pussy, and breasts on display.  Her head lolled back as her stomach heaved with heavy panting, her hips flexing slightly--little though they could--to grind against Ungrath's cool, probing appendage.<br/><br/>Her head rolled back up as she recovered a bit more strength to observe her surroundings, eyes following Alactra as she went about the business of both teasing Ungrath and collecting the various tools that she was asked to retrieve.  Syncope licked her lips as she watched, her body twitching again as she pulled the beads from Solana.  "Nn, aah--" she murmured again at the telepathic message from the Fey'ri, briefing describing her encounter with Vholdran.  She made a few more small, incomprehensible murmurs as her head rolled back once more, hanging limp, almost at just the right angle to look back up towards Ungrath if Syncope's eyes weren't so dazed and unfocused.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><div class="floatleft"><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><div align="center"><strong>Nyag'thon</strong><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><em>Host:</em>  <em>Solana</em></span></div></td></tr><tr><td>(https://i.imgur.com/NKee3qw.jpg)</td></tr></tbody></table></div><br/>It was uncomfortable.  Nyag'thon was perhaps prepared for what it would expect it to feel like within a creature so antithetical to itself.  Goodness pervaded every fiber of the angel's body, infusing it with power.  Nyag'thon did not care about good and evil, despite it's penchant for the latter and its former life.  Morality was not something it cared to understand or even bothered to busy itself with.  Even Fiends, of course, have their own sense of morality.  Nyag'thon did not--because morality meant rules and rules meant stasis.  Nyag'thon hated stasis.  When it encountered the various Sacred Boons that had been left upon the Angel's form it did not particularly care that they felt like the burning light of the Holy Suns.  It was the Oaths that it recoiled from, the Law and the Stasis that they inflicted.  It knew, though, that everything can give in to Entropy, to Chaos, and even the most ordered of minds can be lost to madness.<br/><br/>What was Solana's madness?  It wondered idly to itself, eventually she would show it.  Nyag'thon had already supposed at what it might be, and would use that guess as best it could to alter the Angel's way of thinking.  It was not dissimilar to what it had done with Syncope, though breaking the Paladin had been more obvious.  It was speed it had needed then, but now it could take its time to enjoy itself and weave its web within the Angel's mind.<br/><div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/kTmxuOH.jpg)</div><br/>Thoughts would have to wait, but sensations and idly wondering was easy enough to lose in the torrent of one's own mind.  How often does the mind move from one subject to another, albeit only remotely connected to one another.<br/><br/>It's a simple image, what else might they have used this poor human for?<em>Laying naked on a table, thin lines of crimson on her back, leather bonds tying her down as some demon whips her</em>.  Yet the woman still obeys them, willfully even.<em>Kneeling in front of another of the fiends, serving them with her mouth with wet, sloppy noises between praises and promises of devotion</em>.  How would such a life even be possible?<br/><br/>Of course when the tentacles of Ungrath returned to their work it was already difficult not to begin to imagine what it would be like<em>if her bonds were simply the same tentacles holding her limbs splayed out as another pair went to work on her nethers</em>.<br/><br/><em>Fear</em>but also<em>curiosity</em>were next, a wondering at what was going to happen next, what plans did they have in store for her.