"Hernán. Papa, help me quickly!"
Potty tugged on Hernán's arm, trying to pull him into the bathroom stall. Her expression was filled with urgency and a trembling sort of hunger.
But the difference in size and strength between them was undeniable—Hernán didn't budge an inch.
Frustrated, Potty stomped her foot like a child denied candy. Her long ears perked up, twitching at every movement of his body.
"I'm a hero… and I have a lover," Hernán muttered under his breath.
He had promised to spend time with Karine soon. Doing this right before that felt wrong.
"You said you'd help!"
Potty threw herself into his arms again, clinging like a creature on the edge of desperation. Hernán hesitated—still unable to push her away completely.
He looked down.
Her rabbit ears flopped with every ragged breath. The short, twitching tail behind her made her look almost… cute. But beneath that charm was something dangerously seductive—different from Sharpie's practiced allure. This was raw, instinctive, and unguarded.
"Come on, you promised. Keep your word!" she pleaded.
"You told Karine you'd get permission before doing this again," he reminded her, trying to gently push her away.
But Potty only buried her face deeper into his chest.
"Then... ah… no, wait… You can't see me like this…"
She whispered in panic, seeming to lose control of herself moment by moment.
It was clear: Potty didn't want Hernán to see her body like this—not while she was overcome with heat.
That meant Karine likely didn't know either. She had no idea Potty experienced these cycles.
"You've kept this hidden from the others?" Hernán asked softly.
Potty nodded, eyes filled with shame.
"Because outside… I could suppress it with magic," she murmured. "But not anymore. Not in this house..."
Her voice trailed off, replaced by a sharp inhale. She trembled.
"Are you alright?" Hernán asked, instinctively placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Your smell…" she panted, "It's too stimulating. It's been driving me crazy…"
Then her hips began to move, slowly grinding against his thigh like an animal in heat clinging to its mate.
Hernán stiffened.
He wasn't her mate.
"Please," she whimpered. "Take care of my heat…"
Even if he was her mate, this would still be overwhelming.
"Get off!"
He recoiled the moment he felt a wet warmth on his leg. But the more he resisted, the tighter Potty clung to him.
"Don't push me away," she pleaded, moaning at the slightest contact.
Hernán's panic rose. If anyone walked in now…
He pulled her into one of the stalls and shut the door.
"Hehe, finally…"
Potty sat down on the wooden toilet lid, panting, saliva glistening at the corner of her lips.
But instead of following her desires, Hernán stared at her solemnly.
"Can't you endure it? You're a person—not an animal. Even in heat, you should be able to—"
"I'm not fully human anymore!" she snapped.
For a moment, the glaze of lust in her eyes cleared, replaced by fragile rationality.
"Because of all the experiments… I'm only half-human now."
"Just ears and a tail?"
"No. It's not just that."
Her hands trembled as she lifted her skirt.
Hernán's breath caught.
Her pubic hair—like her hair and fur—was a soft, unnatural pink. The small mound between her thighs was slick, glistening, and undeniably aroused. A scent rose from her, subtle but unmistakably carnal.
"My insides are different too. Altered. That's why the heat hits me like this… and without magic to suppress it…"
Potty clenched her thighs together, gasping as Hernán's gaze flicked down.
"When one part takes over… I lose balance. And if I lose too much, I'll change completely."
"What happens if that balance breaks?"
She fell silent.
"…They never came back," she whispered, her voice trembling.
All of her friends—the others from that horrifying place—had succumbed to their transformations.
Potty was the only survivor.
"Back then… if you and Karine hadn't come when you did, I would've…"
Her voice cracked. Her small body quivered.
"Please… I'm begging you. Help me again!"
She lifted her skirt once more, baring herself.
Hernán ran a hand down his face, torn between responsibility and desire.
He had no better solution.
"…Alright," he muttered. "I'll help. But only with my hands."
Potty's face lit up with joy. She raised her skirt higher, showing her soft belly and long legs.
But Hernán didn't remove his pants.
Instead, he pressed his hand gently between her thighs.
"Ah…!"
She gasped, letting go of her skirt. Hernán caught it with one hand, then stuffed it into her mouth to muffle her cries.
Potty leaned back, her body trembling as Hernán stroked the soft cleft between her legs.
Sticky juices welled up at his touch, dripping onto the wooden seat below.
Her moans were muffled but desperate. He watched her twitch and buck with every movement of his fingers.
It was overwhelming.
He had slept with Sharpie—but never like this. Never with someone so vulnerable, so visibly overwhelmed by pleasure.
"Hnn…!"
She quivered as he explored her folds, finding a small nub that made her jolt the moment he brushed it.
Saliva streamed from her stuffed mouth as her legs convulsed. Her climax hit suddenly, violently—her toes curled, and liquid poured from her body, staining the toilet seat.
Hernán stared at his hand, slick with her fluids.
Potty murmured faintly, voice thick with exhaustion.
"I came…"
He felt both a grim satisfaction and a bitter pang of guilt.
But it wasn't over.
"Still not enough," she gasped, lifting her skirt again. "Please… more."
"No," Hernán replied, firm but gentle. "One orgasm is enough. If you keep moaning, we'll be caught."
Potty blinked up at him, clearly unsatisfied.
"Hernán… do you hate me?"
Before he could answer, she slid her own fingers inside herself. Wet sounds echoed in the small space. She was rough—desperate.
"No, I don't hate you," he said softly.
"Then… please use your fingers inside me. Deep inside…"
She stuffed the skirt into her mouth again and thrust her hips back toward him.
Hernán sighed—and gave in.
He slid one finger into her slick entrance.
"…!"
The sensation was warm, tight, and pulsating. He went deeper, letting his fingers curl and explore. Potty twitched at every touch.
He found a taut membrane near the back—she wasn't fully broken in. But her body was frantically clenching, pulling him deeper.
Then it hit.
Potty shuddered violently as a second orgasm crashed through her.
"Haah!"
She moaned around the cloth, and her ears shot upright. Her whole body trembled.
Hernán tried to pull away, but her cunt gripped his fingers like a vice. It took a hard tug before he could free himself with a wet pop.
Juices gushed out, soaking her thighs and pooling beneath her.
Hernán swallowed hard.
If it had been his cock inside her…
He shook the thought away.
"Not now. Not ever."
He tried to remind himself of Karine—of his promise.
But his eyes kept drifting back to Potty's trembling body, still flushed with need.
Then she spoke, voice low and dazed.
"No more fingers…"
She reached for his pants.
The bulge there was obvious—darkened with her slick fluids. She pressed her nose to it and inhaled.
"Mm… you smell so good…"
That broke him.
His head throbbed with a dull pain. The fever crept back in. He couldn't tell anymore if it was magical or simply lust.
"Maybe this magic isn't suppressing anything at all," he thought grimly.
When he pulled out his cock, Potty gasped.
"You're so big…"
And then—
"Potty! It's your turn to wash!"
Silnia's voice rang out.
Potty froze. Hernán snapped back to his senses.
If Silnia was done, then Marina and Karine must be close behind.
They had to stop.
"Was that enough?" he asked quickly, pushing her away and tossing her robe at her.
"Clean yourself up. Properly."
"W-Wait—Hernán!"
"You can bathe after me. Just stay quiet."
Avoiding her pleading gaze, he wiped his leg with a towel, dressed again, and stepped out into the living room just as Silnia appeared.
"Did you smell that?" she asked Marina.
"Smell?" Marina tilted her head.
"There's a strange scent on the wizard. And now… it's on him too."
Hernán grimaced.
Damn elves and their senses.
Thankfully, Marina cut in.
"The hero's still in the bath. Looked like he was lost in thought."
As the two women left, Hernán relaxed.
Then Karine emerged.
"You done washing?"
He nodded.
"Come to my room after."
She glanced at his pants—and flushed.
"Don't wash too fast…"
As she disappeared into her room, Hernán prayed.
Let this be enough.
Let Potty's heat pass without further… incidents.
He stepped into the bathroom, not to forget—but to find some peace before what came next.