"Please master, may this one share your Male water of life, the Mistress has not fed Qatesh this week." Qatesh pleads and casts off her scrappy lab coat.
A startled stare at her prostrate form notes: Qatesh is female--in so much as a rail framed kobold can be; two, she has large pale human breasts and a equine udder both over-sized for her small frame and better suited for a centaur mare; thirdly, it dawn's on you that Bessie clearly used her own alchemist as a test subject for her insane experiments, because that's a horse vagina grafted on to what should have been there.
"Please master, do what you will. This one is at your mercy, and new centaur parts burn to lay so desperately." Pleads the mutant alchemist, as she timidly rests the back of her palms on your watermelon carrying minotaur sack. Her cold dry contact the most desperate and sincere contact you've had since coming to The Island. You take stock. Kneeling before the immense arroused mythical genitals she helped attach is a tiny and meek, dragon-like kobold, begging you for sex.