Another half hour passed.
As the tattoo gun withdrew, a naked succubus with a lustful expression and pink skin now adorned the back of this stunning young woman.
On her round, perky left buttock was a black cross surrounded by a ring of black roses.
This was the symbol of the Black Cross organization.
When tattooed on a woman's ass, it marked her as a slave of the Black Cross.
"Congratulations, Miss Sylvia. You've become a loyal slave of our Black Cross organization."
"The pattern on your back is truly captivating. It perfectly represents what you are now."
"What... what did you put on my body?!"
"Hahaha, hahaha, nothing much. Just the most depraved and slutty succubus from folklore, tattooed on your back."
"Bastard! Shameless! Filthy! Is this all you can do to humiliate women?!"
But all Sylvia got in response was Faulkner's wicked, maniacal laughter.
She tried to press further, but two burly Black Cross guards dragged her away without a word.
Watching Sylvia being taken away, Faulkner smirked with smug satisfaction.
He couldn't wait to see the changes in this defiant woman's body over the next ten days.
Sylvia was now locked in a basement room by the guards.
The faint smell of lewd fluids in the air hinted that this had once been a cell for holding women.
A dim wall lamp was the only source of light.
She screamed and panted, but all that answered her was dead silence.
Looking at the bare, crude cell in her naked state, she felt lost.
Unbeknownst to her, the once-clean surface of her private area had begun sprouting faint black stubble.
Her armpits, crotch, and feet were starting to emit a musky female odor.
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, washing, 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.