In the days that followed, Sylvia noticed strange changes in her body. The swelling in her Breasts and hips brought shame, yet also an inexplicable pleasure. Her face flushed as she reveled in the heightened desire sparked by her curvaceous figure. Lying on a straw mat, she couldn't stop fondling her round, perky Breasts and digging into her increasingly pungent private area.
As time passed, she sank deeper into the pleasure of masturbation. Aside from eating and sleeping, aggressively pleasuring her body, transformed by unknown drugs, became essential to her daily life.
The sprouting black pubic hair left her at a loss. She loved keeping her armpits and crotch clean and hairless, but now she could only watch helplessly as unfamiliar strands grew. Even more despairing was the sharp odor emanating from her body. The potent female musk made her feel ashamed and overwhelmed, but gradually, she grew accustomed to it.
During each masturbation session, she'd lift an arm, exposing her sweat-drenched, musky armpit, and greedily inhale the scent that fueled her growing lust.
One morning, she noticed her nipples and areolas had grown larger, turning a soft pink. Looking at her Breasts, now resembling those of a ripe, dripping woman, a blush spread across the face of the beautiful young widow.
She opened her mouth to cry out, but an itch from her lower regions drove her fingers to explore the dark, bushy patch below, resuming her self-pleasure. As she masturbated, she caught sight of her current state down there. A thick, blanket-like mat of black pubic hair covered her private area. Parting it revealed plump, rosy labia, resembling those of a woman well-versed in sex, glistening with wet arousal.
The mingled stench of her fluids and crotch formed an overwhelmingly lewd and pungent aroma, drawing her deeper into its grip.
Seven days passed in a blur. Finally, she was granted the chance to clean her body. Under the watch of masked guards, the former West nation intelligence official squatted naked before them like a brothel prostitute, her body now even more voluptuous and ripe from the drugs' effects. Between her melon-like, juicy Breasts was a captivatingly deep cleavage. Her massive, pink nipples and areolas crowned her pale, perky peaks, looking utterly depraved and obscene.
Wiping her body with a damp towel, Sylvia lost herself in the blissful satisfaction of cleaning after so long. Suddenly, realizing something, she grinned and began wiping her armpits with the towel, letting the white fabric soak up the sharp stench of her underarms.
She pressed the towel, now carrying her armpit odor, to her nose and inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating, pungent scent. Feeling it wasn't enough, she took the towel and started wiping her crotch.
"Tsk tsk tsk, looks like Madam Sylvia is really enjoying her new self," a voice sneered.
"No kidding. She stinks so bad, yet she's loving it!" another chimed in.
"Doctor, do we need to keep training her?" a third voice asked.
"Of course," the doctor replied. "The training must continue. Turning her body into this degenerate state is just the first step of my plan. In three days, I'll arrange the second phase of her conditioning. Besides, in this state, she's worthless to the West government for any rescue efforts. This stinking slut's best path forward is as a prostitute."
"In my opinion, she's more suited to be a cheap whore," one of the others scoffed.
"Exactly. Who with money would want to touch a filthy bitch like her?" another added.
Lost in the sensory assault of her body's odors, Sylvia paid no mind to the balding old man and his assistant's conversation or their mocking nearby. Indulging in the pleasures of the flesh was her top priority. Though a lingering sense of shame made her feel embarrassed about her state, her aroused desires overrode any notions of propriety or feminine modesty.
She was hopelessly addicted to the ecstasy of masturbation. Simply using her fingers to probe the wet, musky slit between her legs no longer satisfied her as it once did. To compensate, she spent even more time on self-pleasure. Rubbing her clit and digging into her dripping hole consumed her, not to mention the mind-blowing sensation of climaxing that left her feeling half-dead, half-divine.
Three days slipped by in a daze. As she sat on the floor, panting heavily and savoring the afterglow of her latest orgasm, the cell door swung open.
"Goddamn, what a slut. The stench in this room is suffocating!" a guard barked.
"Look at her. No idea how many times this bitch has masturbated. The air's thick with that nasty smell from a woman's crotch!" another said.
"Whatever. Take her out first, then we'll disinfect this place!" the first ordered.
"This stinking slut is worse than those disease-ridden cheap whores in the slums!" the second added.
Hearing these crude comments, Sylvia's pretty face flushed slightly. A hint of embarrassment crossed her expression, but compared to the satisfaction of her desires, shame took a backseat.
Two masked guards led her to a bathroom. Seeing the showerhead and bathing items after so long, Sylvia eagerly began cleaning herself. The pervasive female musk and the sharp stench from her crotch filled her with shame, while her increasingly ripe, erotic body and insatiable lust constantly fueled her lewd thoughts and desires.
A flush of arousal spread across the face of the former intelligence official and war widow who had lost her husband and child. Now she saw herself in the full-length mirror nearby. Even with the steamy mist obscuring the view, the reflection left her at a loss.
This was a stunning young woman with a voluptuous, sensual body reminiscent of a mixed-race adult film star, exuding an intense air of lasciviousness. The purple lewd tattoo on her lower abdomen made her look particularly slutty and depraved. As her gaze shifted downward, she unconsciously reached out to lift her Breasts, now much larger than before, and began kneading and fondling them.
She couldn't stop moaning and panting. Her hands rubbed the pale, fleshy mounds and the oversized pink nipples with increasingly bold movements. Streams of breast milk, carrying a faint fishy scent mixed with sweetness, spurted from the pink, erect nipples with each moan and lewd cry.
Watching her Breasts spray milk wildly, a dazed smile bloomed on her face.
"Wait, is this my down there?!" she gasped to herself.
"Before I knew it, so much lewd hair has grown out!" she muttered.
"And it's all black and bushy! My hair isn't even black, so why is the hair down here black?!" she questioned.
"Could it be because I've become too slutty?!" she wondered aloud.
"Hiss, ahh, my crotch is so itchy. No, I can't take it anymore. I want to masturbate again!" she exclaimed.
"Just tugging on my pubic hair a few times feels this good! Has my body become this sensitive?!" she marveled.
With a flushed face, Sylvia muttered to herself as she yanked hard on the thick, forest-like black pubic hair below, savoring the soul-melting pleasure it brought. Bathing under the warm water, she moaned and panted like a horny beast, reveling in the ecstatic bliss of masturbation.
Her pale fingers frantically dug into and thrust inside her dripping wet slit, while her other hand relentlessly kneaded her massive Breasts. After ten minutes, with a high-pitched lewd scream, she squatted halfway and uncontrollably squirted a hot gush of lewd fluid from her slutty hole, hidden beneath a mass of dark pubic hair.
Basking in the climax, she panted heavily while bringing her fingers, coated with the musky, fishy fluid, to her mouth to savor it slowly. Unbeknownst to her, the bathroom glass was fully transparent from the outside, allowing a clear view of everything inside, while those within couldn't see out.
She was even less aware that, at that moment, several pairs of lust-filled eyes were fixated on her every move.
"Can't believe this slut loves masturbating so much!" one onlooker remarked.
"But it seems she's completely fallen, which is exactly what we wanted," another said.
"Hahaha, I bet this horny bitch would gush like a river just from smelling a man's scent!" a third laughed.
"Who knows what Mr. Faulkner has planned for her next, hehe," another mused.
...
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