A Farmer’s Life

You had noticed another hero flying off to deal with some menace. Their powerful wings allowed
them to soar through the air at a very impressive speed to reach and defeat the assumed villain.
You lagged behind, dealing with some matter from your life outside of superheroism. When you
eventually reach them. However, the avian figure you saw flying was gone. The only being
standing before the coyote in front of you was a fat, diapered pig. The yote was wearing a straw
hat and overalls with straw protruding from his maw as well. A farmer? Odd. But that didn't
matter!

"Where is the hero that I saw flying over here?!" You questioned as the pig let out a grunt, filling
the back of his diaper out.
You wrinkled your snout as the scent reached you.
"Ach! That smell is putrid!" You choked out.
"Hey! Don't talk about my pig like that! He's getting used to his new body!" The yote reproached.
You paused. Getting used to his body?
"I… is that pig the hero that was here?" You stammered
"What?! This isn't a hero. This is just my silly pail pig!" He said, lowering to the swine.
The pig squealed and snorted in agreement.

You stood there dumbstruck, your whole body frozen. Sure, there were villains with hypnosis,
but altering another's form? Outlandish!
"Change him back, NOW!" You boomed to the villain who was petting the pig
"What? No! This is one of the pig's on my farm… Just as you will be."

You could already feel the changes occurring. Your svelte physique was being mutated.
Plumped. The natural bulk that was given to you by your superhero form was now bulking out
even more. The chiseled abs and biceps your fans adored began to bloat and fatten. You could
feel your form change, your bones reposition, making it harder to stand on your two paws. A
simple change you would make, moving onto all fours, getting ready to charge the villain and
save the changed, diapered hero. But as you did this, you felt the changes continuing.

All of your clothes were fighting against your newly-fattening body. They began to rip and tear at
the seams, unable to contain your new boarish weight. All the while, your face was changing.
Your long powerful sniffer, for instance, shortened and flattened into a pig's snout. Your tail
followed suit, shortening before twirling up into a pig's tail, now much smaller than the previously
perfectly fitting tail hole on your underwear. Speaking of. Your undergarments seemed to be the
only piece of clothing that DIDN'T tear against your new form.

But even those, you could feel were changing. Your garments swelled, quickly poofing out into
an article more befitting your shrinking intelligence. A diaper quickly formed around your
fattened, quadruped hips. You tried to turn back to inspect, but your stubby neck wouldn't allow
it.
Instead, you found yourself facing the reduced hero in front of you. You tried to call out to him,
but as you opened your mouth, a scent crept past your lips. You snorted. It smelled… intense,
mephitic, and even delicious. You continued to gaze at the boated garment taped to the pig’s
rump. You were drooling at simply the sight of the pig's used diaper. You couldn't help yourself.
Your snout was magnetized to the other former-hero's stinky padding. As much as you wanted
to try and pull away, you couldn't. The stench was too alluring, too ripe!

You waddled forward, your own bloated diaper inhibiting your now four-legged gait as you
continued to fight your instincts. You didn't want to shove your new super smeller into his muck!
It didn't smell amazing! But as you shambled your way to the dumb, smelly pig, it became
harder to lie to yourself. His diaper didn't JUST smell amazing, it smelled perfect. Of course you
wanted to shove your snout into his padding! It would be a crime not to, against your very nature
even! You were a pail piggy after all!

"Go on little one, you can do it! Give up all of those silly powers!" Your owner encouraged.
Powers? The only power you had was your unmatched sense of smell. You were born to find
other stinkers like yourself! And master graciously helped you find this one! But you'd have to
start carrying your own weight now! Find the smelliest of all animals for master's stink farm!
When you reached your playmate's padding, you squealed in joy, causing him to squeal back in
equal elation.
"Already playing in the mud I see." Your owner remarked off to the side as you indulged
You sure were lucky for your owner to give such an important job!

Leonin Conflicts

The leonin are a great and powerful community. With naturally powerful physiques to match
their cunning prowess, they were a tribe to be feared. If they weren't so stuck up in their old
ways of using hand-crafted tools, then they might have even been able to rise above the nearby
draconic kingdom or canine tribe. But their desire to treasure their ancestry seemed a limiter.
Evenso, their cooperation with each other even seemed to outdo even the humans residing on
the continent. This, in combination with their swift, svelte bodies and patience in battle made
nearing their grounds quite the arduous task. Near-impossible even. Their eye-sight made them
impossible to ambush at night, and even more of a threat at that time as well, while their hearing
allowed them to hear any intruders before they could even see the encampment.

Still, despite all of the killing instincts that should allow these feline warriors to be in the upper
echelon of the food chain, they are a sparing bunch. When raiding villages, they don't stay to
kill. They simply take what they need and leave. Any furs providing difficulty will be dealt with.
But outside of the unwavering sentinels, they take little blood. Their acknowledgement of other
tribes' liberty was well-known. Though as with many kind-hearted sentiments, it isn't unlikely that
the little kittens get taken advantage of.
The leonin combatants had just gotten back from a successful raid. Clearing out the nearby
hare encampment of many crops and grooming goods. This wasn't an odd occurrence. The
leonin raids were a common phenomenon year-round and the hare population had gotten used
to them. This time however, it seemed that they were even more submissive than usual, not
even putting up the slightest fight as they were pillaged. Their newly completed grooming
products were quickly seized from the shop in which they were produced, while the leader of the
group, with his imposingly massive form, ripped the ripe crops from the ground and plundered
the prepared goods from the community kitchen. This would hold them over on produce for a
while at least.

Arriving back, the party was congratulated on their successful ransacking as they brought the
goods around the village, bestowing the community with enchanted grooming goods. What
made the leonin such a wonder, though, wasn't their overwhelming strength or skill in
surveillance. But instead that they didn't use magic; they relied solely on the battle prowess their
ancestors passed down. They had no abilities among themselves to detect magic. So when the
spells the hares placed on the previously-prepared items began to spread, they were none the
wiser.

It began with their rippling muscles. Even the females in the tribe possessed unnaturally large
bodies. Most presumably due to their hard work and dedication to staying keeping their bodies
herculean. But their large bodies seemed to work against them now. Night after night, their
muscles would bloat lightly until soon, there was little muscle visible at all. All the while,
the crops they uprooted would slow their metabolism to a halt. Any weight they were losing from
their hunts would go unseen.
Eventually, they were failing their hunts all together. With the exceedingly increasing fat lining
their bodies, they were unable to catch a simple lizard, much less a dragon. As they brushed
their luxurious manes, they began to notice their once-opulent fur. Large tufts were plucked by
the grooming products. The picks, combs, and brushes that they pillaged were removing their
most prideful feature.
"Huh. Shedding season came early." One would stupidly say, ignoring the leathery skin beneath.

They began needing to loosen their loincloths. Their exceedingly fattened bodies made wearing
such tight garments impossible. Not that they had much body to boast about anymore with
revealing undergarments such as those. Their teeth lost their shine and razor-sharp edges,
becoming blunt and, like their sluggish brains, much duller. Their fat, crayon-shaped fingers lost
their dexterity and their throat-tearing claws rounded, retracting slightly to meet their chunky
fingertips.

Soon enough, mates wanted less and less to do with each other. Both slumped over their beds
with sweat glistening down their increasingly leathery skin from the jungle heat. Their only food
became the produce they pillaged from the hares, which they munched constantly. Eventually,
even if they had their peak physical bodies, they wouldn't have left their sty-esque facilities.
They were much too lazy to use the bathroom, let alone go into combat with a fierce wolf. They
began adorning diapers, utilizing them without a second thought.
The boar-brained dimwits began looking to their comrades' padding for sustenance. Eagerly
shoving their flat snouts into the bloated mess. Instead of using their new super smellers to
detect trespassers to make up for their now-poor eyesight, they chose to inspect a drove
member's mucked-up pamper, snorting in the scent as if their life depended on it. Grunting
quickly became their language, both when they were and weren't using their padding. Any
dialect they learned, passed down generation-to-generation dissolved, leaving only unintelligent,
brutish oinks and grunts in their absence.

The hares would pay a visit to take a few as pets or ride the stink-ridden boars around town.
The magically-enamored rabbits were used to using their magic to diminish. They didn't enjoy
reducing powerful species to pamper-huffing idiots, but this certainly wouldn't be the last.

An Unprepared Endeavor

You were on a journey with your trainer. Beginning at a simple Charmander, you both had been
together for the entirely of your life, all things considered. You both battled gyms, other trainers,
and caught as many pokemon as you could. He was glad to have you as his partner.

And you were glad to have him as your master and friend. But, now was a different task. Your
goal? To find the legendary pokemon known as Mewtwo. And you found him. Before you,
levitating in the air with an aura of bloodlust around him, was Mewtwo. Your trainer let out a
command.
"Flamethrower!"
But you both found out just how below his power level you were. Before you even got your
attack out, he let out a wave, flying through you and your trainer.

"Seems like you both are a little too weak to fight me. Let me just show you how in over your
heads you are." He spoke through his mind. You felt your body shift. Your wings began to retract
into your body as it took on a sickly shade of gray. The muscular physique that you and your
partner worked so hard to sculpt began to soften with lard and inexperience. The horns that
adorned your head smoothed over, leaving you without your distinguishing features.

You could barely see past your protruding belly, but what you could see confused you. Your toes
melded slightly, shifting from 3 to 2. And your claws dulled and dirtied. Your height plummeted
as your legs grew short and stumpy. Your powerful maw shifted, much like your wings, pulling
inward. The powerful jaws that you used to grip so many pokemons' throats, putting them into
submission on the spot, now ebbed away, flattening into a pig's snout.
You snorted in surprise.

You could feel the fire in your soul extinguish. The heat rapidly leaving your body in exchange
for a new kind of power. Your intellect felt like it was getting stronger, sharper. But even as that
flowed in, you felt yourself growing sluggish. Your movements were slower. Your will to fight this
behemoth was dissipating. You figured that this increased mental ability would make you feel
stronger, eager to take down such a legend. Your intellect was on equal grounds. But as you
could feel it entering, it was also emptying. The tactical reasoning that you had just welcomed in
had began to drain.

Panicked, you looked to your trainer. But your maw opened at what you saw. Your trainer was
sitting there, completely naked all for but a diaper that was strapped around his waist. He sat
with his thumb bobbing in and out of his mouth as he looked to you with a worried expression.
His thoughts were still there, you were sure. He could comprehend the peril that was quickly
descending over the both of you. But he seemed as if he couldn't do anything; he didn't know
WHAT to do.

Even this slight acknowledgement of your

situation, you could tell, was crumbling away. And all you could do was gape back at him, drool
slowly spilling out of your maw as your mind slipped.

You had been with your partner since the start of his journey. The start of YOUR journey. But
now it seemed as if those memories were just dreams. All of the fighting prowess and strategies
you both concocted dissipated from your mind. And you assumed it was being inflicted upon
him as well.

You turned back to the powerful psychic legend who was the cause. He simply looked at you as
his powers continued
to run their course. Your tail stiffened, then pulled in on itself as the dying flame sputtered. It
thinned and rounded completely before twirling into a slight spiral. A black pearl made its way to
the center of your chest as it plumped out, turning into sections of pink and dark gray.

You put your shrunken paws to your head, feeling even more pearls before you moved to the
sides. Longer, pointed ears were what your paws met. Trying to stand, you now found
something impeding your gait. A large diaper had found its way around you, just as it had your
trainer.
In accordance with your now stubby legs and decreased amount of toes, standing was made
quite the laborious task. You let out struggling, shakey snorts as you did so, your new flat nose
making rowdy noises as you prepared your counter attack. You stopped to think of what to do.

You turned back to your partner, curious if he had any input. But what was once a look of
discomfort and terror had been replaced with a stupified smile. He still had his thumb locked in
his mouth, but his tense body had slacked, and you could see him putting some effort into the
only action he could think to do; filling his pants. Your trainer sat in his muck, smiling, as if it was
the most comfortable thing in the world. You faltered. Were you going to end up like him? You
didn’t have time to think about that. You turned back to the psychic wonder.

Stepping forward with a waddle, you began moving your legs. It didn’t matter which way, which
direction. You moved them, hoping for anything to come. Your labored snorts gave you some
hope; you were definitely putting in the work, now for the payoff. Your snorts turned to grunts
and you felt yourself helpless against the rest of his attack. You lurched forward, startled out of
your stance. Feeling the pressure build up, you knew that your dance was over. All you would
get for it was a messy bottom.

A large wave of waste made its way through your diaper and all you could do was continue your
grunts and stare up to the Mewtwo. He looked down at you with a smirk as you finished
emptying yourself.
“There. Nothing but a stupid, stinky boar.” He messaged into your head, placing a paw on your
snout. The feline pushed forward slightly, knocking you onto your bottom with a smush. But
instead of being disgusted, you just gave him a disoriented look. Your head felt muddled, like
you shouldn’t be able to make a psychic attack no matter how you tried.

You bobbed up again before dropping down. You snorted in delight. This was fun! You continued
to use your legs, pushing off the ground before letting yourself drop down onto your swampy
padding. Why were you so worried about your trainer? He would be having so much fun with
this, you thought, as the Mewtwo left you both to stink up the forest.