Izuku sprinted down the sidewalk, his breath hitching as his eyes darted from left to right. Even with the memories of this world integrated into his brain, the reality was a sensory overload that threatened to melt his remaining inhibitions.
The street was a living tapestry of uninhibited desire. A group of girls walked toward the train station, laughing and chatting about their weekend plans; they were entirely bare, their breasts swaying with every step, their pubic hair styled into neat, aesthetic triangles. Walking alongside them were boys whose heavy members swung rhythmically against their thighs, their skin glistening with morning sweat. No one looked away. No one whispered.
As he turned a corner, he saw a crowd gathered near an alleyway. A woman was arched over a trash bin, her eyes rolled back in ecstasy as three men systematically took turns with her. One was buried deep in her rear, another was filling her mouth, and the third was standing over her, casually urinating across her trembling, sweat-slicked stomach. Passersby didn't even slow down, except to offer a thumbs-up or a quick "Nice!" as they headed to work.
"It's... it's totally absurd," Izuku whispered, his heart thundering. His school trousers felt like they were about to tear at the seams, his own arousal reacting to the raw, pheromonal energy of the city. "But God... it's incredible."
Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the air. Smoke billowed from the direction of the Tatooin Shopping District. Izuku's hero-fanatic instincts kicked in immediately. This was it—the start of the story.
He pushed through the crowd toward the police line. There, towering over the tracks, was the giant shark-like villain from Episode 1. He was a mass of grey muscle and rage, but in this world, his monstrous anatomy was fully exposed—a massive, barbed member thrashed between his legs as he roared at the heroes.
Standing his ground was the Pro Hero Death Arms. He looked just as rugged as Izuku remembered, but his hero costume was stripped down to just his gauntlets and a belt. His physique was a wall of bronzed muscle, and hanging from his waist was a thick, heavy cock that looked like it was forged from iron.
"That's... that's Death Cock!" Izuku shouted, the name slipping out before he could stop it.
A middle-aged man standing next to him, wearing nothing but a pair of tight, sweat-stained underwear, turned with a grin. "Are you a fan of his too, boy?"
Izuku nodded frantically, his eyes locked on the hero.
"Yeah, Death Arms' cock is as famous as his physical strength," the man laughed, scratching his bare stomach. "His agency is right near my house. My wife and I went there last month for a 'community outreach' session. Let me tell you, by the end of it, my wife couldn't even walk for two days. He earned that name 'Death Cock' for a reason!"
As they spoke, a blur of brown and green leaped through the air. Kamui Woods made his entrance. His body wasn't covered in a suit; instead, living wood bark grew directly out of his skin, wrapping around his muscular limbs like natural armor but leaving his midsection and groin entirely open. He swung through the air, his wooden appendages extending to bind the villain.
"Pre-emptive... Chain of—!"
"Canyon Cannon!"
The ground shook as a massive shadow blotted out the sun. A colossal, beautiful woman vaulted over the crowd, her foot connecting squarely with the villain's jaw. It was Mt. Lady. She was nearly eighty feet of towering, naked perfection. She wore nothing but a small purple mask around her eyes and a pair of horns.
As she stood up, the sheer scale of her was mind-breaking. Her breasts were the size of houses, the nipples dark and heavy, pointing toward the sky like twin peaks. Her ass, a vast expanse of smooth, peach-colored muscle, shook with a thunderous clap as she stabilized herself.
The crowd erupted. A swarm of photographers rushed forward, their shutters clicking like machine guns.
"Money shot! Give us the money shot!" they screamed.
Mt. Lady looked down, a playful, predatory smirk on her face. "This is my debut," she cooed, her voice echoing through the streets like a seductive earthquake. "I'll handle the rest, boys."
She turned around, bending over at the waist to give the crowd a direct view of her massive, open rear. She reached back, spreading her cheeks with her hands to reveal the deep, dark heat of her core to the lenses of a thousand cameras. Izuku stared, his brain struggling to comprehend the size of her.
If she squeezed those nipples, he thought, his mind racing with degenerate physics, the breastmilk would shoot out like a damn rocket. I just want to drown in her.
He pulled out his notebook, his pen flying across the page as he sketched her gigantification quirk—and the specific way her massive anatomy reacted to the sudden growth.
The man in the underwear patted his shoulder. "Aiming to be a hero, kid? With that kind of focus, you might just make it."
"I... I'll do my best!" Izuku answered, his voice cracking. He gave one last look at Mt. Lady, who was now teasingly rubbing her massive breasts against the side of a skyscraper, before he realized the time.
He sprinted the rest of the way to Aldera Junior High, his uniform damp with sweat. He burst into his classroom just as the bell rang, sliding into his seat and trying to hide the massive bulge in his pants behind his desk.
The classroom was a scene of casual chaos. The teacher stood at the front, a stack of papers in his hand. He wasn't wearing a shirt, his hairy chest exposed as he leaned against the podium. The students were a mix of dress—some wore parts of the uniform, but most were half-naked. A girl in the front row was casually stroking her boyfriend's member under the table while they whispered about the weekend.
"Alright, settle down," the teacher said, his voice flat. "I'm supposed to hand out these career aptitude forms, but honestly, why bother? I know you all want to go into the Hero Course!"
The room erupted. Students leaped onto their desks, showcasing their quirks. One boy turned his skin into stone, his rock-hard muscles flexing as he struck a pose. A girl produced sparks from her fingertips, the light reflecting off her bare breasts as she laughed.
"Hey, hey! No quirk usage in class!" the teacher yelled, though he was grinning. "You're not licensed yet!"
Izuku looked toward the front of the room, expecting to see the spiky ash-blonde hair of Katsuki Bakugo. The memories of this body surged—he knew what he was about to see, but his past-life brain refused to accept it until his eyes confirmed the "shock."
Katsuki wasn't a boy. She was a girl.
Katsumi Bakugo leaned back in her chair, her feet on the desk. She was a vision of aggressive beauty. Her ash-blonde hair was spiky and wild, framing a face of sharp, arrogant features. She wore her school shirt completely unbuttoned, revealing a pair of perky, firm breasts with nipples that were permanently hard, as if mocking the world. Her gym shorts were pulled high, revealing the toned, muscular curve of her thighs and a hint of the blonde thicket between her legs.
Looks like my life will be much more colourful here.