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Hi guys! I finally got a Subscribestar. All of my stories are being uploaded there, plus a lot of new content, including in-progress content like Diapered Stepmother, The Regression Act, and Like Mother Like Daughter. Check out my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections Chapter One A Shameful Issue Claire Reynolds fumbled with her keys, her hands trembling as she tried to fit the right one into the lock. The sharp clink of metal echoed through the dim hallway, mocking her urgency. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a bead of sweat trickled down her temple despite the cool air. “Come on,” she hissed under her breath, bouncing slightly on her heels. When the key finally slid into place, she shoved the door open and bolted inside, her purse slipping from her shoulder and landing in a heap on the floor. She didn’t stop to pick it up. The bathroom door was just a few steps away, but those few steps felt impossibly long. Her hand gripped the doorknob when it happened. The warm, mortifying sensation began at her thighs and cascaded downward, soaking her gray slacks and forming a humiliating puddle at her feet. Claire froze, her breath hitching in her throat as she stared at the dark stain spreading down her legs. “No,” she whispered, the word catching like a sob in her chest. For a moment, she stood rooted to the spot, the scene unfolding beneath her as though it were happening to someone else. But the sharp smell of urine quickly snapped her back to reality. This wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. Shame washed over her, making her stomach churn. This was the third time this week. Claire leaned against the bathroom door, covering her face with her hands. The knot of anxiety in her chest tightened, and her thoughts spun wildly. What was happening to her? She’d already been to the doctor—no infections, no physical problems, nothing that explained why this kept happening. “Stress,” the doctor had said, his tone infuriatingly casual. “Sometimes your body reacts in unexpected ways. Try to take it easy for a while.” Take it easy? As if Claire Reynolds, Vice President of Marketing at Goldstein & Gray, had time to "take it easy." She had built her entire career by thriving under pressure, outmaneuvering competitors, and crushing challenges. Yet now, standing in a puddle of her own making, she felt utterly powerless. Claire peeled off her wet slacks and underwear, tossing them angrily into the laundry hamper before stepping into the shower. She turned the water as hot as she could stand, hoping the scalding heat might burn away the humiliation clinging to her skin. The bathroom filled with steam, but the knot in her chest remained. Wrapped in a robe, Claire sat on her couch with a glass of wine in her hand. The faint glow of the TV illuminated her face, though her eyes remained unfocused. The news anchor’s voice droned in the background, but she wasn’t paying attention. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying the moment she lost control over and over. Three times in a week. Three times. Maybe it really was stress, she thought, staring into her empty glass. Work had been relentless lately, and the weight of it all was starting to show. Claire barely had time to breathe between managing her team, placating demanding clients, and watching Samantha Drake inch closer to her throne. Samantha. The name alone made her skin prickle. She could see Samantha’s smiling face now, framed by perfectly styled blonde hair, her bright blue eyes practically sparkling with confidence. Samantha was talented, ambitious, and far too likable for Claire’s comfort. People flocked to her naturally, eager to bask in her glow. And Claire? She was the one standing outside her bathroom, soaked to the skin and trying to hold on to her dignity. Her jaw tightened as she set the empty wine glass on the table. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t some fragile mess who couldn’t keep herself together. She was the second most powerful person in the company, and Samantha was nothing but another subordinate. She just needed rest. Tomorrow would be better. It had to be. But deep down, Claire wasn’t so sure. She walked into the office the next morning with a practiced smile that felt like it might crack under the strain. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, echoing through the sleek lobby of Goldstein & Gray. She moved quickly, her steps purposeful, as though the sound alone could drown out her unease. You’ve got this, she told herself. She had spent most of the night tossing and turning, haunted by the humiliating memory of her accident. Now, as she reached her desk, she fought to bury the thought and focus on what mattered: work. Her assistant, Melissa, greeted her with a stack of files and a fresh coffee. “Morning, Ms. Reynolds. Here’s the prep for the Ross presentation at ten.” “Thank you,” Claire said curtly, taking the files without breaking stride. She slipped into her office and closed the door behind her, exhaling slowly. For the next hour, Claire buried herself in spreadsheets and client notes, trying to lose herself in the comforting predictability of data. It almost worked—until there was a knock at her door. “Come in,” she called, not looking up. The door opened, and Claire’s stomach sank when she heard the familiar, cheerful voice. “Good morning, Claire. Got a minute?” Samantha Drake. Claire glanced up, masking her irritation with a tight smile. Samantha stood in the doorway, her tailored navy dress accentuating her polished appearance. She looked every bit the up-and-coming star Claire begrudgingly acknowledged she was. “What can I do for you, Samantha?” Claire asked, keeping her tone neutral. Samantha stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “I just wanted to check in. You’ve seemed… tense lately.” Claire’s smile faltered. “Tense? I’m fine.” Samantha tilted her head, her expression sympathetic in a way that made Claire’s teeth clench. “I know how demanding this job can be. And, well…” She hesitated, feigning concern. “There have been a few murmurs around the office. About you seeming, I don’t know, a little distracted?” “Murmurs?” Claire’s voice sharpened, but Samantha’s calm demeanor didn’t waver. “Nothing major,” Samantha said quickly, holding up her hands. “It’s just that people look up to you, Claire. You’ve set the bar so high, and I think they’re worried about you burning out.” Claire forced a laugh, though it came out brittle. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m perfectly capable of handling my workload.” Samantha nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Of course you are. You’ve always been an inspiration to me.” The words sounded genuine, but Claire couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that there was an edge beneath them. Before Claire could respond, Samantha added, “If you ever need support, though—someone to help lighten the load—I know an excellent assistant who could make things easier for you.” Claire stiffened. “I don’t need help.” “Of course not,” Samantha said smoothly. “But if you change your mind, let me know. It’s important to take care of yourself.” With that, Samantha offered a polite smile and left, leaving Claire alone in her office, simmering. The morning passed in a blur of emails and conference calls, but Samantha’s words lingered like an unwelcome guest. By the time the Ross presentation rolled around, Claire was on edge, her mind racing with a cocktail of frustration and self-doubt. She entered the boardroom, her posture as sharp as ever, and launched into the presentation with the confidence that had made her reputation. But halfway through, as she stood before the team, a sudden wave of pressure in her bladder made her pause. Not now, she thought, gripping the edge of the table. She forced herself to keep going, her voice steady even as her body betrayed her. With every passing second, the pressure grew, and by the time she wrapped up the presentation, she could barely focus on the questions. The moment it ended, she bolted from the room, ignoring the curious glances from her colleagues. She made it to the bathroom just in time, slamming the stall door shut and collapsing onto the toilet. Relief flooded through her, but it was short-lived. The near miss left her shaking, her mind spinning with worst-case scenarios. What if she hadn’t made it? What if she had humiliated herself in front of the entire team? Claire sat there for a long moment, her breathing uneven. This couldn’t keep happening. Back at her desk, Claire stared at her computer screen, her thoughts far from work. The memory of Samantha’s offer gnawed at her. As much as she hated to admit it, the idea of having help—even temporary—sounded less ridiculous than it had that morning. But no. She wouldn’t give Samantha the satisfaction. Still, Claire couldn’t shake the feeling that her grip on control was slipping, one agonizing inch at a time. Chapter Two Enter Linda By the time Claire got home that evening, she was exhausted. The day had been grueling, and the close call during the presentation lingered in her mind like a bad dream. She dropped her keys on the kitchen counter, poured herself a glass of wine, and sank into the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. This couldn’t go on. The memory of Samantha’s offer crept back into her thoughts. Claire clenched her jaw. Asking for help from someone Samantha recommended felt like admitting defeat, but she couldn’t keep living with the constant fear of humiliation. Before she could overthink it, she pulled out her phone and dialed Samantha’s number. “Samantha Drake,” came the cheerful voice on the other end. “It’s Claire,” she said, her tone clipped. “About that assistant you mentioned. Do you have their contact information?” Samantha’s response came almost too quickly. “Of course! Her name is Linda. She’s young, but she’s a natural at organization and discretion. I’ll text you her number.” “Thanks,” Claire said tersely and hung up before Samantha could gloat. The next day, Linda promptly arrived at Claire’s apartment at 9 a.m. Claire opened the door to find a young woman with auburn hair tied in a neat ponytail, bright hazel eyes, and a sunny smile that seemed almost too earnest. Claire thought with a twinge of skepticism that she couldn’t have been older than nineteen. “Hi, Ms. Reynolds! I’m Linda. It’s such an honor to meet you,” she chirped, extending a hand. Claire hesitated before shaking it. “You’re… younger than I expected,” she said bluntly. Linda didn’t miss a beat. “People say that all the time. But I promise, I’m great at what I do. I’ve worked with other executives before, and I’m here to make your life easier.” Claire stepped aside, motioning for Linda to come in. The girl walked in with an eager bounce, her backpack slung over one shoulder. Claire watched her carefully, trying to gauge whether this was a good idea. “So,” Claire said, folding her arms. “Tell me what you can do.” Linda enthusiastically listed her skills: scheduling, task management, meal prepping, and errand running. She even mentioned a knack for helping with “personal matters,” though Claire dismissed that with a wave. After twenty minutes, Claire sighed. Although Linda was extremely young, on paper, she was a perfect solution to her stress. “Fine. Let’s try this out. I’ll give you a week to prove yourself. If I don’t see results, that’s it. Understood?” Linda beamed. “You won’t regret it, Ms. Reynolds!” The first few days were surprisingly smooth. Linda was efficient and unflinchingly polite, handling Claire’s demanding schedule with ease. She organized Claire’s cluttered desk, prepared meals that were waiting when Claire got home, and even started leaving subtle reminders for things Claire might have forgotten. On Linda’s fourth day, she was tidying up Claire’s kitchen when Claire rushed through the door, pale and frazzled. “Out of the way,” Claire muttered, bolting toward the bathroom. Linda watched in surprise as Claire slammed the door behind her. Minutes later, Claire emerged, her face flushed. She was clutching a damp skirt and muttering under her breath. “Everything okay?” Linda asked cautiously. “It’s all fine,” Claire snapped, avoiding Linda’s gaze. Linda didn’t push, but Claire caught the flicker of understanding in her assistant’s eyes. Two nights later, Claire woke up in her wet pajamas. The dark stain on her sheets sent a wave of panic and frustration crashing over her. She began stripping the bed, her hands trembling as she stuffed the soiled sheets into the hamper. She didn’t hear the knock at first. “Ms. Reynolds?” Linda’s voice broke through, hesitant but concerned. Claire froze. Before she could respond, the door creaked open. Linda stepped inside, her eyes widening at the scene: Claire standing in the middle of the room, tear-streaked and clutching damp sheets, her wet pajama bottoms an unmistakable clue. “Oh,” Linda said softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” Claire turned away, her face burning with humiliation. “Just go,” she said sharply. Instead of leaving, Linda stepped closer. “Ms. Reynolds,” she said gently, “it’s okay. Let me help.” “No, it’s not okay!” Claire’s voice cracked. “This isn’t normal! I’m almost a middle-aged woman, I shouldn’t be wetting myself.” Linda stayed calm, her tone soothing. “Stress can do strange things to the body. You’re dealing with so much right now. It’s not your fault.” Claire sank onto the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands. Linda knelt beside her. “Why don’t you change into something dry? I’ll take care of this.” Too exhausted to argue, Claire nodded. The final straw came two days later. Claire had stayed late at work, trying to finish a report, when the now-familiar pressure hit her. She’d been so focused she hadn’t noticed until it was too late. How could this be happening to her? She was a strong, independent woman with a successful career and a bright future. She wasn’t supposed to wet herself like some oversized toddler who wasn’t potty trained yet. In desperation, she rushed back home. When she got to her apartment, she ran past Linda, although her pants were visibly damp. Linda saw it immediately, but said nothing, quietly following Claire. Linda approached her. “Ms. Reynolds, I think we need to talk.” Claire stiffened. “About what?” Linda hesitated. “I noticed… things have been getting harder for you lately. Maybe it’s time to consider something to help.” Claire’s eyes narrowed, though in her current state, she looked more like a little girl pretending to be an adult than the girl-boss she truly was. “Help? Like what?” Linda’s voice was gentle but firm. “Protective undergarments. Just at night or for when you’re working late. It could give you peace of mind.” Claire stared at her, the words hitting her like a blow. “You’re suggesting diapers.” “I’m suggesting something to make your life easier,” Linda said softly. “There’s no shame in it.” Claire shook her head, her pride flaring. “Absolutely not.” “Claire,” Linda said, dropping the formalities, her tone softening but not wavering. “You’ve had three accidents that I know of this week. The one on the way home from work tonight, the one in bed two nights ago, and the one outside the bathroom earlier this week. And this isn’t something new. Is it?” Claire blushed, not knowing how to answer. “Have you gone to the doctor?” Claire nodded, though all her strength had wavered, replaced by a feeling of impotence and shame. “So, what happened?” “The doctor thinks it is just stress. But I’ve always had stress, and it had never led to something like this,” Claire replied, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m not wearing diapers!” Linda didn’t flinch. “You hired me to make your life easier, didn’t you? That’s all I’m trying to do.” Claire shook her head, her voice trembling with fury. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not some invalid, Linda. I don’t need diapers!” “It doesn’t look like it. Does it?” “I’ll fix it,” Claire said through gritted teeth. “I’ll go back to the doctor. I’ll drink less coffee. I’ll… I’ll figure it out.” “It’s your decision,” Linda continued, “But just think about this…If it happens at work, what do you think will happen? You have a reputation as a strong and powerful woman. Do you think your employees will respect you after they see you standing in your wet trousers and crying like a baby?” Claire didn’t respond. It killed her knowing that Linda was right. If she ignored the problem, it could only lead to public humiliation. But diapers? She wasn’t a baby. She was an adult woman with so many responsibilities. An image of her wearing a diaper as Linda took care of everything came flooding her mind. It made Claire blush as she shook that thought away. “Just think about it,” Linda added. She turned away, leaving Claire alone in her wet pants. That night, Claire lay in bed, her mind racing. She replayed Linda’s words over and over, each one striking a nerve. The worst part was that Linda was right. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hi guys, here's one of my latest stories. You can read it now on Amazon Kindle Wife's New Boyfriend Is My New Daddy: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DSR2VKVB or check my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections Claire's Regression: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DS2S4FXW You can also read Daisy's Perfect Summer: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DLVJYHH5 Here's a link to The Diary of a Diapered Cuckold: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DPFLGMNJ

Well, I came up with a story in the psych ward I stayed in for a lot of June (and I was admittedly inspired a tiny bit by @LittleFallenPrincess's Monstrum series, but in a different sort of way than hers; do check out her stories because they are absolutely fantastic): a story about humanity and Weres (Werewolves, Werehawks, Werebruins, Weretigers, and Weregators) co-existing after a long tumultuous period...for now. Of course, something has to change. As a notable WARNING: there are a lot of mature themes in this story - bigotry from antagonistic forces, first and foremost; this is a modern take on Jim Crow/HIV panic for Weres when it comes to humanity (and some Weres believe in Were-supremacy), and to be respectful to the subject matter, I will not skimp on just how a society of humans and Weres has that underlying tension and real life problems, so consider this your only warning on that. Adding on to that, politics. There is political stuff in this: one of the MCs is a pro-Were politician who wants to enact change for Were-rights. Quite simply, I have no intention of insulting parties on other sides. I don't do that with stories because I don't wish to offend, but quite simply, the politics cannot be avoided, and I promise not to inject my own political views into this story. Granted, it's difficult to be objective when it comes to stories; we all suffer from that, but I will do my utmost best to avoid any issues and avoid offending. As far as other warnings, police brutality and corruption is prevalent (given the Jim Crow style hatred for Weres), there is a notable case of domestic violence and domestic sexual assault hinted for a character, violence, and sexual themes. I promise to give warnings at those points; I have not ever skimped on a warning before, and I promise not to do it now. There's also language (up to "fuck"), but if you're reading one of my stories, that's a given. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. Thank you in advance! Now, on to the show: - Chapter One: The Meeting - The alarm of the clock blared in Stephany’s ears, and a soft groan exited her lips. Eyes still closed in defiance of the brand-new day, she fumbled in the dark before slamming her hand on it, only managing to turn it to a radio station. She opened her eyes and hit the clock again, this time turning off the alarm. She noted with sorrow that her nighttime…misadventures had not improved with time. Maybe a doctor could help…if a doctor would help. “It’s Saturday,” she mumbled, ripping off the tabs of the saturated diaper. “The hell could be so damn important on a Satur-” She froze, remembering just what was so damn important on a Saturday. “Aw, hell!” Stephany did a quick shower, barely managing to scrub the affronting smell off of her. Then she threw on an outfit that did nothing for style: a T-shirt without a logo and jeans with the zipper halfway done before kicking on a pair of sneakers, not even caring about the loose laces. It was haphazard, like her frizzy red hair, her green eyes rheumy from sleep. “Fuck me, I can’t be late to this,” she groaned, rubbing her eyes and stuffing her purse full of her crap before exiting into a dreary April morning in Seattle. She noticed the two Weres almost immediately. Weres. The bane of her fucking existence. Yeah, humanity and Werekind did not get along, hundreds of thousands of years of tumultuous skirmishes evolving into a tentative peace. These two were Werewolves, but there were four other types: Werehawks, Weretigers, Werebruins, and Weregators, all of them looking quite animalistic…with the exception of Werewolves who alone could try to hide amongst humankind. “Hey, babe,” one of the Weres crooned while the other let out a wolf whistle. “You got time to come with me, right? We could have a great time together, you and I!” “Go away,” Stephany growled, hugging her arms together; she deeply regretted not bringing a jacket to fend off the drizzle from the sky. “C’mon, don’t be stingy, baby,” the other one said, crowding around her, sniffing her hair. She grabbed both of his hands, and with ten simultaneous snaps, the fingers of the Were were broken, and he let out an agonized scream. “For the last time - and I’ll give you two simple words to follow: Fuck. Off!” she growled, her eyes blazing with rage. The uninjured Were grew pale. “You…you’re a-” “Yeah, I fucking am,” she snarled, baring the fangs that had gone unnoticed by the other Weres. “Last chance to fuck the hell off.” “Fine, you fucking bitch!” the injured Were whined. “I bet you suck in bed anyway!” The two left, and Stephany sighed. It sucked to be a Were. A normal person may have been confused. Being a Werehawk meant one could fly! A Weregator could submerge themselves for long periods of time! Werewolves were masters of disguise and could run forever! Werebruins had outstanding physical strength! Weretigers were stealthy and powerful! What was so bad? Everything else. Every little thing, from the inability to eat anything other than meat; the restaurants, hotels, and apartments that had blazing neon signs saying, “No Weres”; the various anti-Were laws that seemed to pop up every day that crowded Weres into the worst neighborhoods and forbade them from doing so much as owning anything other than certain properties or have anything other than certain jobs; hell, the discriminatory attacks and the inaction from the law to prevent the humans from attacking Weres. And that wasn’t even getting into Were biology. The way that Stephany was turned - a single one-night fling with a Werewolf - created a burning desire to feed, a constant hunger that could only be undone by turning someone into a Were herself - and even that was temporary at best, a screaming ache in her stomach that was making her think of doing something incredibly stupid. So, she was going to a meeting of Weres to discuss her new life. Just fucking peachy. Stephany ignored the stares as she walked through Belltown, the worst area in Seattle, ignored the mothers shielding their children, ignored the men with itchy trigger fingers. She just continued to walk to the seediest part of Belltown until she arrived at the large establishment that was her destination: The Crewe Club. It looked fairly nondescript for a bar, with only a neon sign showing the name. The windows were dark, shuttered, and obviously reinforced; a sad necessity, given the large number of firebombers that struck pro-Were establishments. She let out a sigh and opened the door. The interior shocked her. It was almost gothic in design, with beautiful stained-glass designs close to the windows, a mesmerizing chandelier, lamps with candle lights above every polished wooden table, with plush seats making the atmosphere downright cozy. The bar itself was also well-lit, showcasing every liquor bottle, the various cocktail options, and the food items for both Weres and the rare human who chose this bar to eat and drink at…not that many humans would choose to go here. Behind the bar was a Weregator with a large gray beard spilling down to the top of his chest, his toothy snout protruding and greenish scales shining. He was cleaning glasses, one after another. “Can I help ye?” he asked in a very deep Southern drawl, not even looking up from his latest glass. “Looking for…” Stephany showed the Weregator the meeting card she had been given, “...Weres Anonymous?” “Only humans and newly-turned call it that,” the Weregator said bluntly. “Ain’t nothin’ ‘bout us that’s ‘Anonymous’. But I can tell you’re newly-turned.” “How?” Stephany was confused. “The smell. The uncertainty. The fact that ye look like ye just jumped out of bed. You’re tryin’ to make a deadline. Don’t worry, kid; they ain’t gonna start without ye.” “Where can I find the meeting spot?” “Downstairs.” The Weregator jerked his head at a door she hadn’t seen. “Thank you, Mister.” “Just call me ‘Clay.’ Everyone does.” “Thanks, Clay.” Stephany let out a sigh, walked to the door and opened it. A dark, winding hallway with stairs greeted her. Her night vision, being a Were, was solid, seeing shapes of objects as clearly as if they were in daylight. She grabbed the railing of the stairs, taking it one step at a time down the meandering staircase. It seemed to take forever, and she wondered how Weres that were in wheelchairs could get down here. Then she nearly ran smack dab into another door, this one barred shut. She knocked on it. A deep feminine voice answered, “You newly-turned? Clay told us to expect you.” “Yes!” Stephany squeaked. “Well, come on in; we don’t bite.” The newly-turned Werewolf opened the door to see the largest Werebruin she had seen in her life. The Werebruin wore a simple T-shirt and jeans, and the smile on her furry snout was kind. “Welcome, welcome,” the Werebruin rumbled, the look in her rich brown eyes filled with mischief. “I’m Nora, Nora Villanueva. I hope the walk wasn’t too far. What’s your name?” “Stephany Mercer.” Stephany shook Nora’s hand, which enveloped hers like a child’s. “Welcome, Stephany!” A huge Weretiger woman entered the conversation, her voice as perky and bright as her pink T-shirt and skirt. “I’m Zora Villanueva. Nora’s my lovely wife.” Zora’s whiskers on her striped face twitched excitedly, the look in her amber eyes warm. “Now, make yourself at home, please.” Stephany looked around the room, the aromatic smell of raw meat tickling her sensitive nose. It was quite large and well-lit with scented candles. There were comfy couches to sit on, only one of which was occupied: a nervous-looking male Werehawk sat there, and he shrank away from her - visibly flinching - when she walked over to him. Her voice was filled with confusion as she asked the couple, “Did I do something wrong?” “Oh, Dane’s new, like you,” Nora explained. Stephany had a feeling that Nora wasn’t being entirely truthful, but she let it slide as she sat on a couch. “We’re going to talk about so much, but don’t worry; it’s all to help.” God, is that really it? I don’t need any help; I just want a fucking cure! “So, how were you turned, Stephany?” Zora asked gently. “I don’t think you deserve to know,” the Werewolf growled, a dangerous hint in her tone. It was embarrassing to her, it- “Fetish-site?” Zora asked. Stephany’s wide eyes obviously gave the Weretiger all the proof she needed, as she continued, “That’s how most are turned. Some assholes use those sites to lure in vulnerable people, and-” “I’M NOT FUCKING VULNERABLE!” Stephany snarled, before a wet feeling on her bottom- NO! She was peeing all over the couch, her jeans utterly soaked, and she started to sob hysterically, burying her head in her hands. Not fucking vulnerable, my ass… She felt a gentle hug from both sisters and, to her shock, Dane as well. “I think you’ll need to see a therapist as well as us,” Nora said gently. “Don’t worry, they’re quite nice, they’re knowledgeable about LittleWere physiology, and...” Stephany barely heard the words, lost in her stupid embarrassment, the outing of her fetish, wishing she was someone, anyone else. I HATE being a Were. Why?! Why me?! --- Well, that's that for the first chapter. Hope y'all enjoyed~

Well, this is my first ever story for a contest - in particular, this is for Kasarberang's fourth contest, and I'll post the link at the bottom. Anyway, without further ado, welcome to the show! - Chapter One: Sentencing - Ferne Beliveau had presented her closing arguments this Sunday of the capital murder trial with confidence, poise, and the expertise of a long-time professional - which was shocking, since she was the youngest (and newest) District Attorney in the history of Louisiana (all of Louisiana, not just New Orleans, her district) at the tender age of twenty-nine, having been in law school since she was seventeen. She was certain the man before her would be convicted by the jury, who had finished deliberations and were standing before the judge. “Have you reached a verdict?” Judge Anderson, a tired old man with little shock-white hair remaining on his nearly bald head, asked. “We have, Your Honor,” the forewoman said. “What say you?” “We the jury, in the case of the State of Louisiana vs. Hedges, find the defendant unanimously guilty on the charges of capital murder and armed robbery in the first degree.” Ferne looked at Tevin Hedges, a Black teenager, who mouthed, “I ain’t done nothin’,” in disbelief, tears pouring from his eyes, the defense attorneys bowing their heads in shock and guilt. She loved every moment of it. Crushing the hopes and dreams of these men was sweet nectar and ambrosia to her. So what if they were innocent? It looked good on her record. Besides, they deserve nothing less for being criminal scum. “Thank you, Jury, for your service today. Court is adjourned.” Ferne left with the various legal documents in her hands, a bounce in her step, her heels clicking on the floor, as she strode towards the exits. She had almost reached it before she was bumped into, a foul-smelling liquid spilling on her expensive white pantsuit. “Watch where you’re going!” she spat at the offending party: a tall middle-aged woman with long straw-blonde hair and green eyes that were glaring at her coldly. “Perhaps you should be more careful, young lady,” the older woman said in a dialect that was clearly Irish, the glare not leaving her eyes, a familiar look. Ferne huffed a bit, ignoring the woman (had she seen her before? No matter; she had more important things to worry about.) as she went to the restroom to clean up. Whatever liquid (probably liquor) was spilled on her had absorbed itself into her skin, and yet…it wasn’t wet. Definitely going to shower after this, she thought furiously, as she washed her hands, peering into the mirror to see her beautiful light brunette hair smartly tucked in a bun, her twinkling ice-blue eyes, the smug look on her face like the cat who ate the canary. The only thing she hated about her appearance was her size: she was barely 4’10” with a small bust to match. “Hello, Ferne,” a voice said next to her. She was joined by her, well, nobody was exactly a rival to her, but her closest competitor, Taneka Stevens, her ebony complexion, long braids, and still-heavyset figure and giant bust from a very recent childbirth contrasting sharply with Ferne’s toned alabaster skin. The other woman was already washing her hands. “Well, hello, Tannypack,” Ferne replied snootily. “Glad I could have your help on the Hedges case, for what little you did.” Stevens didn’t back down, annoying the younger woman. She was the only one who didn’t back down from her “Bitch-mode” amongst her subordinates - something she was going to have to change. “You know the kid was innocent, right?” Stevens said with a sigh. “We’re not the ones to decide guilt; that’s the job of the jury,” Ferne chided. “Maybe having a kid sapped a bit of your brain in the process?” “Why are you the way you are?” She brushed off the question, ignoring how much it hurt inwardly. “You mean a successful head District Attorney in Louisiana’s biggest parish? Maybe you should try it sometime, Tannypack; it might make you less stupid.” “Never mind. I see how you’re choosing to act.” Stevens left, leaving Ferne to her thoughts. What a stupid whore, choosing to get knocked up over the opportunity of being District Attorney. Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her ruined pantsuit, and she looked at the text. Her stupid ex, Mae Jung-Sook, was the guilty party. Hey, I need you to come to court for child services. Urgent, much love! She rolled her eyes and responded. Did you drink bleach? We’re both women, and there was no child. Fuck off. The next text quickly showed up. It’s about guardianship, power-of-attorney. If you back out now, they’ll assume the child isn’t old enough to be their own legal guardian and POA falls into my hands. Please, dear, last chance to back out. Ferne rolled her eyes. Classic manipulation tactic. You can do whatever the fuck you want with your brat, bitch. For the last time, fuck off! It’s over! In fact, I don’t think there ever was anything between us! Goodbye! She blocked the number on her phone. If Mae was going to be manipulative, she didn’t need her in her life. What a fucking day… Ferne decided to go back home to change; she couldn’t exactly go out for a night on the town in a dirty pantsuit. She saw the Irish woman standing outside the bathroom, her stare making the DA feel a bit uncomfortable, and once again, she had the strangest feeling she had seen her before. Doesn’t matter where I saw her. She’s not my type, anyway. She strode confidently into the parking lot, heedless and uncaring of the other people who were in her way, no matter who they were, as she got out her keys. Her Lexus was ready to go, the front door automatically opening for her (thank God for the money from her job). Ferne sidled in and closed the door, opening her purse that she had hidden in the backseat. It would be the biggest mistake of her life. She checked the open purse, making sure everything was there, seeing an odd canister spewing an odorless gas, barely feeling her eyes droop before everything went black. - Well, here's the link, as promised. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter:

A blond haired woman wearing a violet colored skirt, jacket and high heels walked down a long, narrow corridor. Each step she took echoed throughout the tunnel that stretched underneath the highway which ran through downtown Domino City. Normally, she would never voluntarily walk around in such dingy, graffiti infested walkways, but the sky above was sporadically pouring rain. According to the reports forecasted by the news, the worst of which was still to come Still, the bad weather didn't stop the young woman, nor the hundreds of other people who were competing in the second Annual Battle City Tournament, from wandering the streets and back alleys of Domino City. The allure of fame and fortune was enough to keep them out in the rain, seeking opponents to challenge. Speaking of potential opponents, off in the distance, someone was leaning against the wall at the end of the corridor. The young woman looked quizzically at the stranger who stood before her. The mystery person was rather thin, their body covered by a dirty, plastic poncho which was covered by rain drops. It was hard to tell exactly if it was a man or a woman, their head was resting underneath a large hood, obscured from view. However, something shiny and gaudy was dangling on their chest; a golden necklace that looked similar to what that brat Yugi Muto always wore. "Trying to stay out of the rain?" The mysterious individual lifted their head and looked over to the young woman who had questioned them. "Just trying to stay dry during my hunt, Miss Valentine." In a quick flash of lighting, which illuminated the entrance to the passageway, Mai Valentine caught a glimpse of her fellow tunnel dweller. Their face was framed by short black hair which fell forward to hide her face. Her brilliant blue eyes stood out amongst the shadows for just a second as the light flashed across her pupils. "I see my reputation precedes me." The blond smirked. "And if you know who I am, then you must be a Duelist too." The mysterious woman simply lifted up her right arm, letting her Duel Disk do all the talking. "Alright. Let's duel!" Mai declared with a flourish of her arm. "Unlike the denizens of this city, I do not seek material wealth or vanity through this tournament. However, I entered this contest to find rare relics, relics that I am fairly certain you don't possess." "If that's the care then you might be interested in that golden necklace that Yugi Muto has." The strange woman perked up. "You must be talking about the Millennium Puzzle." The blond vixen smiled. "Yes, Yugi wears it everywhere." "I too have a millennium item." The stranger held up her necklace with their left hand. "And I don't need your assistance to find the other items. My necklace will guide me to them in time." "That's interesting, but I'm not out in the rain to talk about jewelry." Mai retorted. "I came here to win the tournament!" "You're persistent, I'll give you that, but I don't have time to waste playing games with you." Mai watched with a growing scowl as the stranger turned away from her and started to leave the entrance to the underground walkway. "Hey!" The velvet clad vixen called out to the mysterious individual. "I don't care what you're after! I issued a challenge to you and you can't refuse it!" "You have nothing I need. Stop wasting my time!" The plastic poncho wearing woman replied. Mai couldn't believe what she was hearing! She was a fairly well known and high ranking Duelist in the world of Duel Monsters. People came from all around to watch her battle. 'Who is this weirdo and why does she think she's too good to duel me?!' "I'm not going to repeat myself." Mai declared as she started up her duel disk. "I see that you're not going to take 'no' for an answer." The stranger sighed and fired up her duel disk. "Might as well make this interesting then." Mai cocked an eyebrow, intrigued by her strange opponent's change of heart. "What did you have in mind?" "I have a few of these." The woman cloaked in her plastic poncho said, holding up four see through cards. "They're pretty much useless to me, but I know that you need them." 'I only need two more Locator Cards…' Mai smiled. "Deal." The blonde eagerly agreed. "You really shouldn't agree to things that you know nothing about." The mysterious individual lifted her poncho up and tossed it on the ground. Before Mai could reply, see noticed that the necklace that the stranger wore was starting to glow. "Wait a-" Suddenly, everything seemed to grow darker as the world distorted itself into a realm of darkness and shadows. "What happened?" Mai looked around, confused by what was happening to the area around her. "This will be a mythical battle. A battle where your monsters will be brought to life and tested on the battlefield of the ancients." The strange woman explained. "It will be a great way to teach you some manners." A trap card will brain drain Mai when she poops her diaper which allows the odd woman to defeat Mai. She will lose and awaken in the shadow realm. She'll be looking around, confused and annoyed with being in just a big diaper and bonnet. "Looks like I have to remind you why I'm known as one of the best duelists in the world." Mai Valentine remarked as she drew her first five cards. "And since you decided to give yourself an advantage, I don't think you'll mind if I go first." "Impatient and cocky." The strange woman stated. Unknown Duelist: 4000 Mai: 4000 Mai ignored her odd opponent and summoned her first monster. "I summon Cyber Harpie Lady (ATK 1800/DEF 1300) in attack mode!” Mai placed the monster card down on her duel disk, bringing the brilliantly blue armored human bird hybrid to life on the field. Her green wings fluttered as she stood atop her razor sharp talons. "Before I end my turn, I'll place one card face down and equip Cyber Shield to my lovely Cyber Harpie which raises her attack by five hundred attack points!" The green winged beast spread its wings wide, a bright energy enveloping her midsection as the magic card powered her up. Cyber Harpie Lady (ATK 2300/DEF 1300) "That's a decent opening move." The cloaked woman complimented Mai. "I guess you won't be as easy to defeat as I thought." The stranger looked over her cards for a moment and made her move. "I'll place this card in face down defense mode and place another card down to complete my turn." Mai Valentine drew her next card and smiled. "I'll set another card down and then attack your face down monster with my Cyber Harpie!" The Cyber Harpie Lady lounged forward at the face down card, screeching as it closed in on its unknown prey. Suddenly, the face down defense card was flipped, revealing it to be the Keeper Of The Scales of Balance. (ATK 200/DEF 1800) This specter made of bones stood firm, holding out a set of ancient Egyptian Scales as it took the attack. The skeletal creature had a special flip effect that rendered all the opponents equipped magic cards useless. With the Cyber Shield neutralized, Cyber Harpie Lady found herself unable to dispatch the monster to the graveyard. Instead, her attack resulted in a stalemate since her power was returned to its original state. (ATK 1800/DEF 1300) Mai's expression remained neutral. She wasn't surprised that her opponent was able to stave off her attack, but what she did find odd was that the woman didn't capitalize on this turn of events. She could've easily sacrificed her Keeper Of The Scales Of Balance to bring out a much stronger monster to defeat her Cyber Harpie, but she merely placed another card in face down defense mode before ending her turn. "Hmm, that's an interesting strategy, but I still have my Cyber Harpie on the field and now I'll bring out her little pet." Mai smiled as she slapped down Harpie's Pet Baby Dragon (ATK 1200/DEF 600). A bright flash of light illuminated the Dark arena as a fairly decent sized dragon rose from out of the card. The dragon was flanked by his keeper; a petite Harpie Girl who kept him on a leash. "That's simply adorable." The stranger chuckled. "You really think so?" Mai leaned forward and feigned ignorance. "He's just a baby though so be careful." The cloaked woman smiled. "Oh don't worry, my dear. I am used to taking care of babies." For some reason, that she couldn’t explain, Mai found that response to be a bit creepy.. Still, the buxom blond shook it off and maintained her composure. "Before I end my turn, my little baby dragon's effect says that you have to discard that face down card." "I see." The mysterious woman simply picked up the face down magic card and put it in the graveyard. "Now, to start my turn, I'll sacrifice my face down defense card and summon The Goddess Of Maternity(ATK 2000/ DEF 1900) and attack your Harpie's Pet Baby Dragon!" The white haired Goddess of Maternity lifted her arm and fired a beam of energy at the burnt orange dragon which quickly eviscerated it from the field of battle. Unknown Duelist: 4000 Mai: 3900 "Hey!" Mai called out in confusion. "My Harpie's Pet Baby Dragon has double attack and defense points when he's attacked! How did you defeat him?!" "Oh sweetie. My Goddess of Maternity gets a power boost of five hundred attack points for every baby monster on the field. That means that she was able to beat your silly little dragon and inflict one hundred points of damage to your life points." The odd woman explained. "Alright. That's an incredibly niche effect, but you managed to get one past me. I guess I should be impressed, but you'll never be able to defeat me once I get my Harpie Ladies on the field." Mai boasted. "Whatever you say, baby. It's your move." Mai frowned, not at all happy with how this woman was speaking to her. It was like chipping away one hundred life points had inflated the weird woman's ego or something. "Yes. It is my turn." Mai stated proudly and drew her next card. A grin spread across her face as she looked at her newest card. "Well, would you look at that. I drew exactly what I need to beat you!" The blond bombshell held up Elegant Egotistist. "I now summon Harpie Lady Sisters to the field!" A trio of winged females cawed as they appeared on the battlefield. Their bodies each clad in a different neon colored armor as they stood there, poised for battle. Each woman looked just as menacing as her counterpart, they were the Harpie Lady Sisters (ATK 1950/DEF 2100). "And now that my favorite girls are on the field, it's time to attack your Keeper of the Scales of Balance." Mai declared triumphantly. "But before I do that, I'll equip Cyber Shield to my lovely Harpie Ladies" Mai flipped over the magic card and powered up her trip of winged women. Each winged woman glowed as they were invigorated by their new armor. Their attack rose by five hundred points. (ATK 2450 /DEF 2100) "Now my Harpie Lady Sisters, destroy that annoying old Keeper of The Scales of Balance!" The trio of fierce fathered females descended on the skeletal spectre, destroying him with ease. "It's time, my Cyber Harpie Lady (ATK 2300/DEF 1300), attack the Goddess of Maternity!" With her Cyber Shield armor restored to its former glory, the nimble Cyber Harpie took flight and sliced the blue robed Goddess to oblivion. As the dust settled, the life point counter fell by three hundred points to give Mai the lead. Unknown Duelist: 3700 Mai: 3900 "What do you think about that?" Mai smiled before she stuck out her tongue. "That was pretty good, but it would seem to me that you'll need to summon stronger monsters or you'll never beat me." The mysterious woman stated. "That cloak must be blocking your eyes. I just destroyed all of your monsters and, even if you got another bag of bones to neutralize my Harpies, it still won't be enough to stop my Harpie Sisters from defeating you." Mai explained before adding, "I'm in control of this duel now...sweetie." The cloaked woman chuckled as she drew her next card. She found Mai's mimicry to be rather cute. It reminded her of how a little girl might imitate their mother. "First things first, I'm going to activate my trap card, "Infantile Armor". What this card does is two fold: It nullifies the bonuses of any equip cards you've used on your monsters and designates them as "Baby" creatures which will empower my Goddess of Maternity!" Mai looked on in curiosity as her Cyber Harpie Lady(ATK 1800/ DEF 1300) and The Harpie Lady Sisters(ATK 1950/DEF 2100) armor began to glow. The brilliant neon tinged armor started to soften as the material went from being made of hard metal to a fabric based body suit which spread across the humanoid bird's bodies. Their bountiful cleavage was quickly covered by bibs which were draped across their chests from the remnants of their breastplates. However, that wasn't what caused Mai's jaw to drop. The sight of what the bottom of their armor had become was rather appalling to the blond duelist! In just seconds the once resilient armor had become a stiff and crinkly all white disposable diaper which cradled her monster's most sensitive parts in a poofy embrace. Mai couldn't believe her eyes as she stared at her Harpie Lady Sisters who were now decked out in diapers and bibs, each one sporting a huge diapered bubble butt. 'What kind of kinks was Pegasus pandering to when he made that trap card?' Mai was so caught up in the absurdity of the moment that she almost missed her opponent's next move. "I use Monster Reborn to resurrect Goddess of Maternity to the field!" Once more a bright flash engulfed the battlefield as the azure robbed spirit of motherhood returned: The Goddess of Maternity (ATK 3000/DEF 1900) stood tall and proud, looming over Mai's diapered girls. "Take care of Cyber Harpie Baby!" The cloaked woman ordered with an outstretched arm pointing at the diapered creature. However, unlike the Goddess' previous attack, this time the ancient deity grabbed the bird girl and held her firmly underneath her arm. The diapered Harpie kicked and squirmed under the firm hold of the Goddess, but the robed Deity didn't care, she started spanking the winged beast with her bare hand. The crinkling sound from each spank echoed around the shadow realm as the Cyber Harpie's diapered butt bouncing around in front of Mai. Mai turned away, blushing slightly for the fate that had befallen one of her favorite monsters. It was simply too humiliating to even watch. Finally, the "attack" was over and Mai saw that her life points had dropped once more. Unknown Duelist: 3700 Mai: 2700 "Looks like I'm in control now." The weird woman blew Mai a kiss to punctuate her point. "A simple diaper isn't going to defeat me or my Harpie Ladies." Mai stated as she picked up the top card from her deck. "But I will say this, Pegasus must be into some weird fetishes to make these kinds of cards." "You haven't seen anything yet, sweetie." "Ugh-" Mai cringed."I'm going to make you stop calling me that." "Sure you are." The weird woman cooed. "I'll activate Hysteric Sign!" Mai slapped down the magic card. "This card allows me to retrieve one Elegant Egotist from the graveyard and, once my turn is over, I can pick three different monsters from my deck as long as they have the name "Harpie" in their title." "Then I'll summon Harpie Harpist (ATK 1700/DEF 600) in face up attack mode. A feminine avian creature arose from the card holding a harp in its talons. The humanoid bird looked very mature compared to the diapered triplets who stood beside her. "With Harpie Harpist on the field, I can activate her special effect which sends your Goddess of Maternity back to your hand as long as I return my Harpie Lady Sisters to my hand." The diapered trio of embarrassed birds instantly disappeared from the battlefield along with their tormentor; Goddess of Maternity. With the field empty of monsters, Mai smiled as she issued her next move. "Attack her Life Points directly Harpie Harpist!" With a strum of the harp, the beautiful bird woman sent a pulse of sound towards the cloaked woman, knocking her down as her life points instantly dropped below Mai's. Unknown Duelist: 2000 Mai: 2700 Mai smiled as she searched her deck for three cards as per Hysteric Sign's description. As Mai was busy looking for her three cards, the cloak wearing woman got back to her feet and drew her next card. "You mentioned Pegasus earlier, didn't you?" The cloaked duelist asked, causing Mai to look at her. However, the weird woman continued on with her explanation, not waiting for an answer. "Basically, Pegasus created roughly a dozen or so cards which only apply to Shadow Realm duels. They are rarely seen since so few were put into circulation." Mai didn't like where this was going. To Be Continued... Want to read the rest of the story? You can read the rest of it on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/user?u=6660213