Emma's growing clitoris [growth] [female] [futa] [transformation] [llm] [ai]

After a grueling day at the office, where she'd buried herself in reports and meetings, Emma trudged home, exhaustion weighing down her steps. The fluorescent lights of the cubicle farm had dulled her spirit, but beneath the

tiredness, a familiar buzz simmered—a relentless craving that never truly slept.

As she stepped into her apartment, she kicked off her heels with a sigh, relief washing over her feet. Her shift dress hung neatly in the closet, a shield against the world's prying eyes. But tonight, it was just her and the quiet

corners of her life. She padded to her bedroom, each step echoing the battle within—her shy nature clashing with the fire burning inside.

The bathroom mirror was a reminder she avoided, its gaze too truthful. Instead, she undressed in the dark, slipping into soft panties that did little to contain her

desire. Her hands trembled as they found their way, seeking comfort in the familiar path. The room was silent except for the rhythmic sound of her breathing, each

inhale a whisper of need.

She settled onto the bed, the mattress yielding beneath her. Her fingers brushed against the lace, tracing patterns that stoked the flames. With a deep breath, she

slipped under the fabric, meeting her own touch with a mix of anticipation and shyness. The clitoris pulsed under her ministrations, a reminder of how long it had

been since she'd indulged this craving.

Her mind wandered to fantasies—fantasies of a cock filling her, of hands that weren't her own exploring her body. But tonight was about her, her hands, and the

solace they brought. The pressure built, waves crashing against her control until release swept through her, grounding her in satisfaction.

Exhausted but content, she lay still, the world outside fading into a distant hum. Shyness crept back like an old friend, wrapping around her as she drifted to

sleep. Tomorrow would bring another day of hiding, of masking the desires that pulsed just beneath the surface. But for now, in this moment, she was hers—quiet,

satisfied, and alone.

Emma awoke the next morning, the remnants of last night's release still lingering in her bones. She stretched, the sheets cool against her skin, and made her way to

the bathroom for her morning ritual. As she stood before the mirror, brushing her teeth, something felt... off.

She paused mid-brush, tilting her head as she noticed a subtle change in her reflection. Her body hadn't changed drastically overnight, but there was an undeniable

fullness beneath her bikini line. She dipped her hand into the waistband of her pajamas, hesitating before glancing down.

There it was—a faint outline, slightly larger than she remembered. Her breath hitched as confusion swirled in her mind. Had she imagined it? Or had something truly

shifted while she slept?

Over the next week, Emma found herself glancing at herself in mirrors more often, her eyes lingering on any hint of change. One evening, after another exhausting day

at work, she decided to confront whatever was happening. As she lay in bed, the familiar tingling began, urging her toward self-exploration.

She reached for herself, her fingers brushing against a noticeably larger nub than before. Gasping softly, she withdrew, staring wide-eyed into the darkness. This

wasn't normal—was it? Her mind raced with questions, but curiosity soon overtook fear.

Over time, Emma began to notice more pronounced changes. Each week brought a new level of sensitivity and size, her clitoris growing steadily until, by the third

week, it was modestly larger when not aroused. She experimented during her nightly sessions, discovering heightened pleasure with each passing d

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