Serving with Distinction: A werewoman's tale prologue


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Story is intended for a mature audience, age 18 or 21 in some countries. Story features, straight and lesbian sex, implied rape, a scene of futanari and gender transformations of male to female and female to male. The story also contains graphic violence and language. Serving with Distinction contains elements of the Werewoman Handbook series as well as lore from other werewoman fiction.
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The early fall weather leaves a crisp feel in the air of downtown Washington D.C. as Friday evening draws in. The sun has just set and the last traces of daylight wither beneath the encroaching darkness. A yellow cab pulls near a row of night clubs. A woman hands the cabbie her fare and exits the vehicle. She proceeds forward, walking past the line of lesbians and bi-sexual hopeful club goers standing in line. They eye her every move with envious looks. A neon sign reading “Club Sappho” illuminates her features. She is wearing a black Sportmax Crisma trench coat that barely covers her black skirt and fit model figure. Her face is sporting a pair of black rimmed juicy couture glasses doing barely any help to cover her perfect skin and flawless face. Her golden blonde hair in a modern bun completes the appearance that she has just come from a prestigious place of business. The clacking sound of her heels on cobble stone catch the attention of onlookers as she saunters past.

She approaches the entrance and presents a card to the bouncer, a large Samoan man with piercing dark eyes, shaved head and massive muscles. He knows her, but checks her card as a sign of formality. He pulls the velvet rope back and greets her warmly.

“Evening Ma’am, you look divine tonight,” he greets.

“You look well yourself Anthony, have a great evening,” she returns the greeting.

The woman walks through the club past the dancers, deflecting the advances of several women who believe they’ve just seen an angel. Strobing lights and booming electronic music bounces around the large room. Past the bar, she approaches the stairs guarded by another bouncer. She flashes a smile and a wink. Sasha, a brown haired and bearded former member of the French Foreign Legion smiles back as he lets her pass.

The woman walks upstairs and to the far corner of the members club. She takes off her coat and hangs it on the booth before sitting down next to an older woman. The smoke and shadows hide her porcelain features, brunette hair and impossible beauty. She looks to be no older than 40, but her demeanor doesn’t hide that she is a much older age.

“Good to see you again,” the older woman greets with a warm hug and peck on the check.

“Good to see you too Doctor, how ya have been?” the young woman asks.

“I’m great. My son is leaving me the grandchildren this weekend and I have the time off to enjoy their company for once,” said the Doctor.

“That’s awesome, I hope you can enjoy yourself for once too,” the young woman jabs with humor.

“I’d enjoy myself more if the world didn’t try to end itself every week,” the doctor jokes.

“Let’s get down to why you called me back from the field. What is so important to risk my cover being blown. Last time I checked you needed me in the eastern bloc to put out brush fires and---,”

“She spoke to me last night,” the Doctor cuts her off.

“You don’t mean HER?” the young blonde responds in shock.

The young blonde’s eyes widen and she notices the Doctor’s face showing no signs of humor.

“Why now of all times? I thought she wasn’t on speaking terms with us,” the young woman asks.

“This is why,” the Doctor says as she pushes a file across the lounge table.

A sexy hostess approaches as the young woman grabs and hides the folder under the table.

“What can I get for you two goddesses tonight,” says the raven haired hostess. “I also gotta say I’m surprised you didn’t cause the floor to get drenched on the way in.

“I’ll take Mai Tai,” the blonde orders chuckling.

“Manhattan for me,” says the doctor.

“Any food?”

“Just the appetizer special, we won’t be here long.” the Doctor requests.

“You say that now,” the raven maiden jokes. “Last time you both were here, we had to kick nine girls out because they couldn’t stop themselves.”

“We’re serious this time,” the young blonde laughs.

“Alright alright don’t make any promises,” she says as she walks off.

The young blonde stares at hostess’ butt as it shakes in the tight denim jeans she sports, barely covering the white thong panties and getting no help from her black tank top.

“Back to business,” the Doctor reminds.

“Right, lets get it done.” The blonde says as she removes her glasses and pops in special contacts that enable her to read the documents in the right spectrum. “It’s a personnel file with associated records, why would Luna tell you about this?” “She gave me his name and a few other facts, what you’re reading is what I gathered.”

“That is your next mission,” the doctor interrupts. “She gave me his name and a few other facts, what you’re reading is what I gathered.”
“What business does she have with him?” the blonde asks with confusion.

“He’s an unborn and he’s in danger,” the Doctor replies. “Seriously?” the blonde asks in shock.

“Nate MacGreggor, Sergeant in the Marines, 8 years’ experience, former reconnaissance candidate, ample trigger time, one deployment to Iraq and one to Afghanistan, now serving as a Public Affairs non-commissioned officer-in-charge aboard the USS Hickory with the 17th Marine Expeditionary Unit,” the Doctor dictates from memory. “He washed out of recon after a bad jump damaged his ankles. Spent a year in physical therapy and got assigned to be a military journalist instead. His intelligence and mechanical scores are all above 110, his physical fitness tests are all high first class. His rifle scores are all in the top 10 percent.”

“The Marines do have the toughest rifle standards,” the young blonde says to herself.

“His psych profile shows all the signs of pinkness, but a stable mind. He is fluent in English, French, Pashto, Arabic and Dari. He survived SERE school so we know he’s no easy squealer. His posted photos and works show he’s capable of field reporting and surveillance too.”
The hostess returns with their drinks and a plate of potato skins, curly fries, mozzarella sticks, onion rings and boneless wings.

“Thanks Mikaela,” the Doctor answers.

“Don’t mention it gurrrl,” Mikaela responds.

“Holla if you need anything,” the buxom Mexican hostess says before she leaves the table.

The young blonde re- opens the folder and takes a few sips of her drink before pouring over the notes.

“She never takes sides, why did she reach out to you about a candidate now of all times?” the young blonde asks inquisitively.
“I’m not sure about her motives, but she said Nate is in danger from WOLVES. After she gave me his name and basic info, I cross referenced it with the service record database and all signs point to him being unborn,” said the Doctor in a worried tone. I had Clint do a search of Nate’s browser activity and he further confirmed his candidacy.”

“It says here he has recently left San Diego aboard the USS Hickory and is travelling on a WESTPAC,” the blonde adds.
“If you remember, a WESTPAC will be taking Nate through some of the WOLVES dens,” the Doctor says in a concerned tone as she finishes a sip of her drink.

“Oh shit, you’re right,” the blonde says recalling her experiences in the Navy.

“Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Bahrain, Singapore, Thailand, The Philippines, China, Hong Kong, India, Saudi Arabia and Israel are just to name a few possible spots Nate could be finding himself. You know all too well what the WOLVES will do if they find him, or fail to take him into their custody,” the Doctor adds.

A shiver hits the blonde woman’s spine as she begins to remember previous encounters with that agency. A sip of her drink calms her nerves.

“In light of past events, our actions must be carried out with upmost prudence,” the Doctor reassures the young woman. “And you know how much weight Luna’s words carry.”

“What does your woman’s intuition tell you?” asks the Blonde as she digs in on the mozzarella sticks.

“I’ve been asking myself why all day,” the Doctor answers with a pure honest voice.

“I think Luna is taking sides finally,” the Doctor admits. “Her tone and gestures all showed the signs of a woman nervous for the future. I think she senses disaster and is helping us with recruiting this one candidate for now. You know it takes a lot of work getting candidates, and even more training them to our standards. Nate’s meeting us halfway already.”

The blonde reads ahead to the mission execution plan and gathers her senses.

“I need you to fly to Guam and rendezvous with MacGreggor at any cost. I would imagine a wolf is there too, so it has to be a deep cover op. Enclosed is your assumed alias and necessary account information. Ensure you get there before September 15 to conduct reconnaissance and examine safe house locations. Nate should be arriving by Sept. 18. I am ensuring the Hickory will not port in Singapore until after his first full moonrise, post-rendezvous. You’ve been authorized for lethal level of force. If you fail to recruit MacGreggor or he does not cooperate, you are authorized to enact Hemlock Protocol,” the Doctor sums up coldly.

“I take it you gave me orders for the USS Hickory,” the blonde asks.
“Yes you will serve as an intelligence augment,” the Doctor answers. “You are to keep your distance from MacGreggor on ship until the first full moonrise after first contact. It’s a small ship, so I suggest you stick to your officer quarters.
After rendezvous on ship, assist MacGreggor as much as possible and help him keep a low profile. I will have transportation ready to take you to a safehouse in Dubai once the ship reaches the specified grid points in your dossier. Await further instruction there and keep MacGreggor safe at all costs.

The young blonde sees her new ID card and alias. It reads, Navy Lieutenant Heather C. Hunter, intelligence analyst.
“I had one of the new girls pack your bags with appropriate gear. It’s in your hotel waiting as we speak. Your flight departs tomorrow morning,” the doctor summarizes.

The blonde takes a moment to down the contents of her glass and catch her wits. Memories of the failed operation in Italy two years ago start to pour into her psyche. She shakes her head to bring her back to the present.

“No one blames you for what happened in Venice,” the Doctor comforts her with an embrace.

“This is your shot at redemption, your first real chance to recruit again. You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened. You’ve done so much good for this country, the world as a matter of fact.”

“I see his face every time I close my eyes,” the blonde sadly admits. “I know I can’t save them all, but I told myself I would never recruit and put other innocents in danger.”

“The WOLVES are at the gates, if you don’t reach him before they do, I don’t want to imagine the fate you would’ve abandoned him to,” the doctor says as she kisses the blonde in a full deep kiss.

“You can stop with the dramatic speech. I know I can’t run away from the past. I just don’t want to fuck it all up again,” she says between kisses and pecks.

“You’re much stronger than you were back then and you know that happened was outside your control. Besides, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself when you know I can go harder on you,” says the doctor sexily as she reaches between the blonde’s panties. “I chose you for this op because you’re my best agent.”

“Oh, stop you’re gonna get me soaked,” the blonde disrupts, changing tempo. “No need to seduce me, I’m already sold. You know I’m on to your honeypot tactics.”

The doctor inches away from the blonde, and regains her wits.

“Yeah, tonight is not a good one, you got a plane to catch and I have a relationship to salvage with my family,” the doctor admits.
The blonde’s attention then shifts to the dance floor.

“What you do tonight is your business. Just don’t make any messes I have to clean up,” the doctor says in a humoring tone.
“I get it MOM,” the blonde replies with defiance.

Oh, and Gabriella, feel free to splurge while you’re over there. There are some lovely locations and shopping malls. You do need to treat yourself from time to time,” the Doctor finishes.

“Thanks Haley, I’ll try and manage,” Gabriella ends with sarcasm.

Gabriella gets up first and walks toward the dancefloor to join the women enjoying themselves.
Haley looks on, worried like a mother yet proud at how her subordinate has turned out.

“I’m proud of you and you should be excited for the next few months Gabby,” Haley tells Gabriella telepathically.

“Thanks Haley, It means a lot, I am excited, take care, Gabby responds.

“Good luck, you’ll knock his socks off.” Haley replies encouraging.

Gabriella gets lost in the music and meshing bodies. A feeling of relief washes over her as she knows all those months of avoiding her recruiting duties is over. She knows her assignment will be easy compared to recent months. But can’t help but wonder what was significant to get the attention of Luna. The bass drops and the women continue their lust filled dance as the nightclub fills and the evening matures.

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