When she pressed on her lover’s stomach a little harder, outward slid the entire turgid length of flesh it had been transformed into, leaving both of them in a brief state of shock. In moments, it inflated with blood to a size most men would boast about, yet in context with Zel’s body, its size was perfectly proportionate. This wasn’t what she had expected when Zel brought up the possibility, but staring up at its pulsating mass from this angle, feeling the heat and subtle electrific aura coming off it… She preferred this; at least attached to whom it was attached to.

Zef lifted her hand from Zel’s stomach without hesitation, gently grasping that mass of mutant flesh which hung ‘twixt her lover’s thighs. It was true that she had experience with men and their implements, but only those of the distinctly normal variety - at least, barring a particularly regretful fling involving a sergeant who, while irresistible with his clothes on, could only be described as “right-angled” when it came to his member.

But this thing… To compare it with Zel’s tongue was more appropriate than with any man’s tool; it certainly felt in her mouth closer to Zel’s tongue than a normal cock, the tapered tip and rather obvious knot at its base notwithstanding. Its fulguric aura shut down her gag reflex just as well, to the point that she only remembered to breathe when she felt herself getting lightheaded. Panic momentarily flashed through her head as she realized that she’d swallowed its entire length, knot and all, only to subside when said knot gave way like soft rubber and slipped out of her mouth with a soft pop.

Yes, it was true that Zef had experience with both male and female partners - but none with both sets of parts at once. It really wasn’t nearly as difficult as she’d expected, if anything, that just made it easier for her; easier to do what she’d grown so fond of doing, in turning that glistening bronze superhuman into a gasping, moaning, quivering mess.

The blonde had long decided that she hadn’t done a good enough job until she had risked getting her head crushed between a pair of bronze pillars at least once.

Only then would she stop, and to her surprise, something came out by then. It wasn’t what she had expected, but then, it only made sense that it wouldn’t be, considering the distinct absence of testicles. Instead, that which she felt being shot down her throat and - as she pulled her head back - into her mouth and across her face, was… Some sort of transparent, syrupy, savory-sweet liquid?

It definitely didn’t taste or smell like the real thing, let alone look it… But the texture and temperature were correct. Momentary confusion soon washed away in the ensuing tidal wave of lust, triggered by a breathy, grinning phrase from Zel:

“C’mon, don’t stop. I don’t need a break.”

Zef crawled out of the bath and onto its edge, barely even bothering to wipe off her face before she pressed her body against Zel’s, locking lips with the homunculus as she reached one hand around her back and the other down to guide her lover’s pseudo-penis where it rightfully belonged. She felt it surging with Fulgur to the pounding rhythm of Zel’s heartbeat in her nethers before it even touched her down there.

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In the next moment as she wrapped Zef in her own iron embrace, Zel impaled her from both ends and in so doing erased every thought from her head besides an animalistic need to breed, the act’s futility be damned.

As the the searing-hot implement of hedonism filled her depths, the trio of blood-balloons at its base that made up the knot threatened to stretch her beyond what she could bear, and yet, stopped just short of it. Zef tried to raise herself off it, finding that the knot put up a token fight before popping right out accompanied by a brief surge of current through Zel’s member. This flash of thought lasted a grand total of two seconds before it was devoured by the lustful animal that ruled Zef’s brain at this moment, leading her to begin slowly grinding on Zel’s lap.

Neither of them knew how long they remained as such, only that neither of them felt the need to breathe for the entire time thanks to the aether they’d filled their lungs and suffused their bodies with, which left them only in miniscule wisps of Fog over the duration. Even Zel’s constant burning of fulgur to fuel her frankly unfair electric aura didn’t factor in much, with how much of the essentia she’d stockpiled in her other stomach specifically for this purpose.

Neither of them even knew how long it was, or how many times both of them reached climax, only that they only stopped when another breath became a true necessity, and that a miniature tidal wave of that transparent ejaculate erupted forth when Zef finally raised herself off of Zel’s member all the way.

As they both struggled for breath and Zef used her arms to hold herself up on her shaking knees, Zel sluggishly reeled her tongue back into her mouth, and with a smug smirk reiterated: “I told you I didn’t need a break. Do you?”

One breath. Two breaths. Four breaths. A deep Fog-inhalation, and a single word: “No.”

Zel’s grin grew, and with a turn upon the slippery floor, she pushed Zef down so that her back rested against the ice-cold stone, pressing her legs further and further back until her feet were next to her head.

Zef knew what this was, and she knew to wrap her arms around her legs to hold them in place before her lover plunged herself into the Ikesian’s nethers once more, this time forcefully and with a surge of elemental lightning so intense as to just barely fall short of outright painful. She would’ve screamed out at the intensity of it had her voice not been smothered by the giant woman’s lips, and even then her moan echoed within the bathing chamber.

Then, Zel began moving her hips. Slowly and steadily, nearly perfectly mimicking the rhythm at which Zef had taken it, she built both of them to the edge, only to stop just short of it… Before immediately resuming with a relentless, rapid pounding, each and every single thrust forcing the knot in and out and driving Zef to near madness with the sheer stimulation of it all, both physical and magical.

By some miracle of mental fortitude Zelsys had managed to keep count of both her own and Zef’s climaxes up until that point, but even she lost count afterwards, and she, too, was overtaken by a primal and ultimately futile need to breed.

Neither of them knew how long they’d been at it when they came to, but they knew that they were both helplessly dehydrated, and physically exhausted; when they finally cleaned themselves up, drank deeply of the bath chamber’s sink, and got out - they at least knew that it was morning.