I’m writing this as much to just write something as I am to make a story. So, it’s slightly rushed and I didn’t mean for the TF to be that long and I ran out of writing time so it is definitely rushed. Apologies but I really just wanted to write something! Set in the DC Comics world, Artemis targets Wonder Woman.

Tabitha held herself still in her chair. She sat apart from the rest of the students and all were arranged in a crescent around an old, round theater stage. The young girl nervously moved her notebook and collection of pens until they were perfectly even with each other. She watched as a middle aged woman entered from a side door. The older woman was tail and thin with her curly, dirty blond hair pulled back in a loose pony tail. She had the look and physical confidence of a ballerina. Every step seemed measured and purposeful. Tabitha nervously pushed at her thick glasses.

The room hushed nearly immediately. The older woman glanced around, cataloguing her students. Out of the thirty-one students, three were young men and all three sat together near the back of the room.

Lights dimmed far overhead as a hidden projector clicked on. The older woman pressed a button on her small laptop and then stepped away to stand facing her class.

“Good afternoon and welcome to CWS 101. Feminist Theory. I’m professor Abrams and this is the only 100 level course I teach. By the time you’re finished with my class, you’ll be well prepared for most of the higher levels. We’ll start immediately.” With a quiet click, the screen behind the professor turned dark black with a single word printed in stark white. Tabitha immediately wrote it down.

“Power,” Professor Abrams said after a pause. “Everything begins with power and the control it affords.”

—–

Harsh cries echoed from outside of the marble walls. Within was a large old table, so highly polished and oiled that it seemed to blaze with the light reflected from torches held in bronze sconces along the length of the room. Maps lined the table, parchment and cloth, and the woman studied them. She wore a simple white robe held in place by an ornate girdle. A longbow, as simple as her robe, lay on the corner of the table, within easy reach. An ornate scabbarded Falcata pressed against the bow. Its handle protruded from the edge of the table.

“No, not there, either,” the woman murmured. She was bent over the table, palms pressed on the edge while she surveyed the various maps. Her finger hovered over an outline of the United Kingdom. Shaded circles and triangles moved along the old maps. Other shapes made appearances before vanishing again.

Suddenly, the woman froze. Small hairs pricked along the length of her neck. She hesitated but, only for a moment as she reached for her sword.

“I wouldn’t,” stated a powerful voice from the corner of the room. Ignoring the near command, the woman’s hand closed around the cold hilt. As it did, a long, feathered arrow screamed through the air before embedding itself into the table. A single bead of blood welled from the thin skin between thumb and finger holding the hilt. The woman scowled and stood, releasing the sword.

“Artemis,” the woman hissed. “You come unannounced into my home. Do the mountains not teach you manners?”

“Manners are for those with the desire to live in a civilized world, Hippolyta. I would see the so-called civilized world brought to its knees and forced to see its true nature.” The goddess stepped from the shadows, her golden bow held low with an arrow resting against the string. She stood taller than Hippolyta and, despite traces of dirt lining her bare arms and face, her beauty was undeniable.

“And? Would you start with Themyscira? Would you war with us?”

“No,” Artemis answered. Her fair face broke into a near child-like smile. “I would start with your daughter.”

—–

“Mary Wollstonecraft,” Professor Abrams announced, pointing at an image of a portrait. “Her daughter may be more famous for her novels but the mother’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman calls for education and a more equal treatment for women as partners rather than simply the ‘wife’.”

An early photograph of a serious, white haired woman replaced the portrait. “Elizabeth Cady Stanton. She wrote the Declaration of Independence for women. Nearly synonymous with her is Susan B. Anthony. Mostly known these days by the general public for the coin rather than her work on women’s rights.”

*click* “Elizabeth Blackwell.”

*click* “Simone de Beauvoir.”

*click* “Gloria Steinem.”

*click* “Betty Friedan.”

*click* “Abigail Adams.”

*click*

Tabitha flushed with excitement. The nearby students whispered amongst themselves while Professor Abrams paused.

“Wonder Woman,” the professor finally said. “Often believed by many to be THE modern feminist. Strong, capable, righteous. She stands with the so-called Justice League, shoulder-to-shoulder with Superman. And I’m here to tell you that she isn’t a feminist. Where the other women on my list have written books on feminism, Wonder Woman has a toy line. Little girls look up to her but, for what? Her violence? She is indeed a strong woman but she is no-”

“What about the Amazons?!” Tabitha blurted out before immediately trying to sink back into her chair. Everyone turned to look at her.

Professor Abrams nodded. “Yes. Her alleged history. The alleged Amazonians. For any of you not steeped in Greek mythology, the Amazons were a society of women and only women. They raped men for their sperm and either cast out or killed any male children they happened to have afterwards. Yes. Wonder Woman has claimed to be of Amazonian origins and from a mystical island that no-one has ever seen. I’ve watched the interviews. She claims to be the daughter of a god with the training of her supposed Amazonian sisters. Bred for war and command. Allowing the existence of Amazons allows the existence of the entire Greek pantheon and I’m afraid you’re in the wrong class for that.”

The students around Tabitha laughed quietly and the young, small girl tried to hide herself away in shame. Still, a small part of her forced herself to speak up. “B-but, you’ve seen the news. She can fly and survive being shot and-”

“And so can Superman and he tells us he’s an alien. An alien that looks exactly like every other man on our Earth. Perhaps he’s actually Apollo and we should all be worshipping him and thanking him for the sunrise every morning?” Professor Abrams stared at Tabitha. “No. I’m afraid Wonder Woman, whatever her origin, is simply human. And as flawed as the rest of us.”

—–

“My… my daughter?!” Hippolyta threw her head back and laughed. The room echoed with it, rich and full. “You would take on my daughter, Diana? You? Goddess of the hunt or no, you’ll find Princess Diana no easy prey.”

Artemis returned her arrow to her quiver. Still holding her famous bow, she stalked towards the other woman. “I would relish the chase. We both know that, without interference, she would be mine. But Zeus’ favored daughter…” Artemis sneered. “Father dotes on the child.”

Hippolyta’s eyes widened. “You- You’re jealous of her. Of Diana.”

“Lies!” Artemis snarled. Raw anger flashed across the goddess’ face and her knuckles whitened on her bow. “I care not what Father or anyone else thinks! I would have the girl bleeding and begging at my feet in an hour but for Father. He… He would intercede on her behalf. He would take my kill from me.”

“Then why are you wasting my time?” Hippolyta asked. Mentally, she laughed at Artemis’ bravado. Her child would beg for no-one and Artemis may easily found herself on her knees begging.

A slow smile spread across Artemis’ face. “A wager. You believe your daughter pure and unbreakable. I will break her and, if I win, she is mine. If not… if she resists… I will join your ranks as a common soldier under your command. Zeus would have to abide by our wager.”

“Why?” Hippolyta asked. “Why her? Why now?”

Artemis stood silent for a long time. The torches danced and fluttered around her as she measured her words. Her eyes focused into the distance. “I can feel the world slipping from me. I can feel it happening. Inch by inch. Minute by minute, I lose a part of myself. The world is no longer as wild as it was. But it is still there and it all hides beneath of a thin layer of civility. I seek to strip that away.”

“So, it is war you seek?”

“No,” Artemis answered. “No. I’m no fool. The champions of this world are too great. I would lose quickly against an assault. No. I will carve out a chunk of the world and it will be a haven for those that see the world differently. I will find those that gnash their teeth at every ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you.’ I will call to those that miss the taste of fresh blood from their own kills.”

“Diana would never join. She is fierce but proud and well trained and she loves the people of this world. She is no animal to hunt at your command.”

“No,” Artemis agreed. “No, she isn’t.” Again, the goddess smiled. “Not yet.

—–

A small bell dinged as the antique store door opened. Two women entered the store while laughing.

“The thong? Really, Cherish?”

“Really. I almost died.” Cherish wiped a small tear away from her eye. Her round cheeks were red from laughing. “I tried. I really tried not to laugh. He thought… he thought it’d be sexy to wear it. And there I am, tired from work and I just want to curl up in bed and he’s lounging on the couch in my underwear. It barely covered his balls. His, oh god, his hairy sagging balls.”

“I will never be able to look him in the eye again. Ever.”

“Heather, I think I hurt his feelings. I couldn’t not laugh at him. He got really embarrassed, cracked a joke to play it off and then off to the bar for the night.”

The two women browsed through the store casually as they talked. Every month they took a lunch break together to look through the “antique alley” near their work.

“Well, I just hope he took the thong off before he left,” Heather said with a grin.

“Oh. Oh no. What if he didn’t? What if he sat there, drinking beer while trying to keep my thong out of his butt? I’m going to burn it when I get home.”

Heather held an old dress up to her stomach. Her hips flared out to thick thighs and she knew the dress would be a tight fit. But, the fabric was smooth and warm and the green accented her dark skin. She turned a questioning eye to her friend.

“No,” Cherish said. “The style isn’t right for you, hun.”

Heather frowned. “Oh, well. I thought-”

And it’d show off the pot belly you’re starting to grow, a voice whispered in her mind. Heather nearly dropped the dress in shock. The voice had sounded exactly like Cherish but her friend hadn’t spoken. I should skip our next hang out. And the next one. Maybe she’ll start to get the hint.

“Did you-” Heather stopped, confused. Cherish looked up, a smile painted on her face.

Unseen to everyone in the store, a hooded figure walked through the narrow aisles. The figure passed by Heather, unseen and unheard. A simple medallion hung from a gloved hand and the figure carefully laid it down upon the glass case near the young woman.

“Oh, nothing,” Heather said. “I just thought- no, nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like they have anything new this month,” Cherish said. “Boring.”

“Well, I-”

I should just lie and tell her my stomach doesn’t feel good. I should’ve gone to lunch with Jennifer. At least she’s interested in staying in shape. God. I can’t even imagine Heather on a treadmill. She’d probably be out of breath in a minute. I thought her kind was good at running but maybe it’s just the men.

Heather felt her stomach drop. “I’m not- I’m not fat,” she whispered, looking down at the glass case. Anger mixed with her shame but she pushed it away. She hated her lack of confidence. She exercised at home, too embarrassed to go to the gym, but she couldn’t seem to lose weight very easily. She hated that she projected her insecurities onto her friend.

The hooded figure watched quietly from the corner of the store.

“Hey, hun,” Cherish said, her pale hand on her stomach. “My stomach isn’t feeling so great. Do you mind if I head back early?”

“I-” Heather felt hot blood rush to her dark cheeks. “I- No. It’s fine. Really.”

“Thanks, hun. I’ll call you later, okay?” Or never, the voice whispered. And good riddance.

“Y- yeah,” Heather stuttered. Her anger surfaced again and her brown eyes flashed with it as she watched her friend leave the store. Heather’s hand clenched into a fist.

“You- You- You-” The young woman grit her teeth at the unreasonable anger working through her. Pain slowly brought her back to the present and she looked down at her hand. Blood dripped slowly from her fist and her fingers ached. She hissed as she opened her hand. She held a small, perfectly round medallion in her hand. It was silver and pocked with age and its sharp edges had cut into her hand when she made a fist. She couldn’t remember picking it up.

“Stupid,” Heather chastised herself. The young woman grabbed a tissue from her purse to clean the medallion. It positively glowed in her hands and she swore it felt warm. Her pain faded quickly and, when she wiped the blood away from her palm, she found the cut wasn’t as deep as she expected. There’s no way I heard her. There’s no way I could heard what she was thinking. I just- I’m just insecure is all, she told herself. And yet. And yet, she used the same excuse I thought I heard. But, it’s impossible. Isn’t it?

The hooded figure tracked Heather through the store. The woman spoke to the shop owner and they both agreed on a price for the medallion. Heather held her new purchase up to the light and then, with a decisive movement, she slipped it on. The nearly pure silver shined brightly against the woman’s skin.

Satisfied, the figure pulled back her hood. Artemis watched with pale grey eyes as Heather made her way to the front of the store. The goddess grinned as Heather reached for the door but the grinned faded quickly when Heather froze. Artemis held her breath as the other woman slowly turned in her direction. Dark brown eyes searched the corner where Artemis stood. Heather sniffed the air, her lips slightly parted.

“Girl, what in the world are you doing?” Heather quietly asked herself. With a shake, she turned and left the store.

“See you soon, Heather,” Artemis whispered.

—–

Tabitha stood indecisively at her closet. “Casual or dressy?” She asked herself. “Casual or dressy?” She pushed and pulled at various outfits for the twelfth time.

The news played from the television in the background. “Woman Woman makes her re-appearance tonight as the guest of Mayor Todd Roman for the opening of the redesigned police headquarters. The move is controversial as the previous building was destroyed in a city-wide attack by the so-called ‘Sons of Anne Arky.’ Kelly Lynn Johnson, also known as Anne Arky, was being held at the Wade County Correctional Facility when her followers attacked. Thirty-three civilians and eleven police officers were killed in the incident when Kelly Lynn Johnson broke free of the LexTech restraints. The terrorist’s abilities caused what psychologists are calling Infectious Insanity. Wonder Woman, who happened to be in a nearby city at the time, rushed to the scene and was eventually able to subdue the terrorist. Mayor Roman’s opponents are speaking out over Wonder Woman’s appearance.”

“It’s not her fault,” Tabitha said, watching the television from the corner of her eyes. “If she hadn’t been there, way more people would’ve died.” She could remember the night it happened. She’d been able to hear the gunfire and screams from her apartment. Finally, the small woman chose to dress up for the occasion. “One hour to go. Oh my gosh. I can’t wait.”

—–

“David? Are you home?” Heather called out as she opened her apartment door. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. The young black woman found herself breathing hard for no reason. She felt overly warm and on edge since lunch. The whole experience had upset her greatly and she’d struggled through the day. Wondering if what she’d heard was real somehow. The medallion was cool against her clammy skin.

Heather sniffed the air and then wandered the apartment, calling for her boyfriend. Finally, she made her way to the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror. She found herself panting from the heat radiating in her body and she wondered if she were sick. Her eyes were reddened and sweat dotted her clothing. Heather turned on the water and then held her head under the cold flow. She sighed happily, turning her head left and right until her black hair was soaked.

Pulling herself back, the young woman lapped at the water, luxuriating in the way the cold liquid slid down her parched throat. She bent over, pressing herself back while happily drinking. Her mind was in a daze. Thoughts echoed from earlier. Anger and shame and the feeling of betrayal from her friend. She growled deep in her throat and then stood, wiping water from her face with the back of her hand. Red fingernail polished cracked and fell from her nails. Underneath, the clear pink nail was darkening to black.

David should be home soon, she thought. An image of her boyfriend filled her mind and his scent came with it. Heather smiled widely and her tongue made a slow circuit of her mouth. The young woman looked to the bedroom, picturing herself there, naked. She could see her man coming home and finding her there, pleasuring herself. Working herself up for him. The feel of his-

Heather stopped, lifting her head. She could smell him. David. Coming. But, different. He was-

The key rattled briefly at the door before it opened. David entered and he seemed surprised to see Heather. He covered his surprise with a warm smile and went to her. “Hey, you,” he told her. “I was just-”

Heather stepped to him and breathed deeply. She gripped his arms as she scented his neck and then she hissed and stepped back.

“What’s wrong?” David asked, brow knit in confusion. “Why’re you acting so strange?”

“You smell like a woman. Like sex,” Heather growled. “You showered but it’s still there. I can smell her on you. I can smell your cum and her sex. Who was it?”

David’s smile tremulously. He reached for Heather, his pale skin a contrast to her darkness. “Hey, come on babe, I don’t-”

Heather’s hand shot out lightning-quick to clamp down on David’s arm. The man cried out as her black claws dug into his arm. “Who. The fuck. Is she?!” She felt anger coursing through her, mixing with the heat radiating through her body.

A line of black hair sprouted from around Heather’s belly button. Her forearm muscles twitched and bulged and David screamed. The man dropped to his knees. Blood fell to the carpet where Heather’s growing claws had cut into him. The young woman’s lips peeled back in disgust and they slowly began darkening into pure black. Her small canine teeth pressed against the surrounding teeth and blood filled her mouth. Slowly, her canines lengthened. Bones cracked in her jaw and her nose flared from the pain.

Pain bloomed in her legs as her sweat-soaked slacks tightened against her thighs. The seams bulged and tore. Dark skin showed through the tears. Something ripped through Heather’s spine and she roared. With seeming ease, she twisted, pulling David before throwing him through the air and against the wall. The man’s head cracked against the corner and he fell into a silent heap.

Fur sprouted from her legs, pushing through the tears in her pants. Heather’s breathing became labored as her chest expanded. Her breasts pressed against the wireframe of her bra. The young woman reached behind her, awkwardly trying to get to the bra strap. Her growing claws tore at the fabric, leaving long gashes in the soft material. Heather’s spine bulged and she fell to her knees, clutching at her sides.

Heather rubbed at her skin with hands that were too rough. Bones broke in her hips as they widened to fit her new frame. Something clicked at the base of her spine and she arched her back as her tailbone reconnected with her spine. A new growth pushed at her panties.

Sweat dropped to the ground around Heather. She blinked her eyes, trying to focus her thoughts. Nothing made sense. Nothing was firm enough for her to grab onto. She could only remember anger. Anger at her supposed friend and at her boyfriend. Black fur sprouted along her tightening belly and along her sides. Her breasts bulged from around the bra as it strained against her skin. The young woman slammed her fists into the ground. Muscles bulged in her biceps and her sleeves tore. Dark black hairs grew along her spine and down to her slowly developing tail.

Artemis stood behind Heather, quietly watching.

Three small pings announced Heather’s bra breaking. She sighed, her long tongue lolling from her mouth in sudden relief. Fur raced along her neck and up to her cheeks. Heather sat back on her heels. She felt uncomfortable. Restrained. It wasn’t right. With a quick pull, she ripped her shirt from her body. Her lower stomach was hidden beneath a thick coat of fur. Her tail was small and curved away and above her ass. The young woman spread her legs and the pants tore further, showing more of her thick, furry legs through the holes.

Heather rubbed her hands through the growing fur. The palms of her hands were rough and the scratching sensation made her groan happily. Thick pads of black skin bulged from her palms. The woman groaned, head back as her sharp claws dragged along the skin beneath her fur. Black hairs sprouted from her heavily muscled shoulders until the skin was covered under heavy tufts of fur.

The woman’s paws moved up and over her still bare, aching breasts. She massaged them and they swelled under her attentions. Soft black skin flowed around her paws and her hips jerked every time her rough pads rubbed against her erect nipples. Her still-growing tail wagged behind her. The fur from her stomach marched up and between her now-heavy breasts. She could feel the hairs growing beneath her hands as even her breasts disappeared beneath her shiny, silky black fur.

Pain blossomed in Heather’s head. Thinking became even more difficult. The smells of the world around her overwhelmed her senses. Bones popped and cracked and her muzzle pushed further from her face. Human teeth fell around her, pushed out by enormous fangs. Heather snapped at the air, growling. Her eyes, still brown, lightened to the color of honey. As the pain faded, so did her humanity. Raw emotions bubbled to the front. Heather stretched out on paws and feet. Muscles bulged in her calves before becoming hidden behind black fur.

Heather’s feet groaned as the bones broke and regrew at a tremendous speed. Her toes popped and swelled. As her feet lengthened, the pinky toe pulled into the skin, leaving a small nub of a toenail. Pure black spots appeared on the bottom of her feet. As with her hands, thick pads swelled to cover her new paws. Heather growled as her feet continued to expand. Blood seeped from her toenails and deadly black claws pushed through ends of her toes.

The young woman shook herself. Her massive breasts hung below her and her pants were a tattered mess that barely contained her heavily furred muscles. She stood slowly on her paws. Her ear tips brushed the ceiling. Heather looked down at her pants in confusion. She tore at them with her claws, ripping them apart until the floor was littered with the remains. She was huge and powerful. And hungry.

Heather turned to her mistress. Artemis smiled in grim approval.

“You are the first of them, Heather. The first of my daughters and sons. I will make a kingdom with you, those born with a spark of fierceness, just waiting for the proper moment to be nurtured. I am the goddess of animals and I welcome the wolves into my fold.”

Heather dipped her head for approval and Artemis lay her hand against Heather’s broad muzzle. Her white hand looked tiny against Heather’s black, furry head. “You have my blessings, Heather. And now you have a purpose. Listen closely to me, now.”

—–

Tabitha stood near her door with the television remote in her hand. “In less than an hour, the ceremony will begin despite opposition. Many here-” Tabitha turned off the television and left, her heart racing at the chance to see her idol in person.