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Assistant: Title: To Boldly C@m
        Author: ColdLuigi ColdLuigi 
        Chapter: 4/12 
        Summary: Izuku Midoriya didn’t expect to be the first human to make contact with an alien species. He also didn’t expect to be that contact to be an immortal, shapeshifting s@x alien named Shoko Todoroki from a six-billion-year-old species devoted exclusively to using the powers of gene editing, shapeshifting, and sloppy breeding s@x to create a universe of eternal xenophilia, but hey, it’s a little hard to argue with an immortal shapeshifting s@x alien who wants you to f@ck every hot girl you’ve ever met, and a bunch of hot alien women she found along the way.
        Contents: Chapter 4: Perfection
    

    


      
        
          This is your one and only warning that this chapter is the first one where things start getting REALLY weird. Beware of deranged and frankly irresponsible use of shapeshifting abilities if you keep reading.If you're down for that, then enjoy!
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
    
  Hours later, as the party drew to a close, Katsumi pulled Shoko aside again.

  “I did what you wanted,” the Number Nine Hero said, almost pleading, red eyes nearly soft. “So just—
  
    please.”
  

  It was plainly obvious what she was asking for. Shoko smiled. It was a smirk, yes, but it was surprisingly gentle, even so.

  “You really must be desperate,” she said softly. “All that time without Izuku’s d@ck, the one you knew you were 
  
    meant 
  
  to get bred by…it’s a wonder you’re even still 
  
    sane.”
  

  Katsumi practically 
  
    whimpered. 
  
  She had enough pride to not beg again…not that it mattered. Shoko cupped the shorter girl’s chin in one hand, tilting her head up to stare into her eyes.

  “Hmm,” she said appraisingly, tilting her head. “T@ts are a little small…good birthing hips…ooh, you’re still a virgin, perfect!”

  Katsumi looked at her oddly. “W-what the hell are you doing?” she demanded as Shoko ran a hand down her flank.

  Shoko curled her lips into an even greedier smirk. “Deciding how I want to change you,” she said teasingly. “After all, what’s the point of being able to edit sapient beings on the genetic level if you don’t 
  
    use 
  
  it? By the time Izuku f@cks you, you’ll be remodeled into the perfect breeding toy for him, I can promise you that.”

  Katsumi fought back a whine. “I—I 
  
    like
  
   my body,” she hissed. “I don’t need some freaky alien 
  
    sl@t 
  
  t-to change me…”

  Shoko laughed. “Need?” she asked. “Who said anything about 
  
    “need?” 
  
  Oh, you’re plenty breedable as it is, don’t get me wrong. But why settle for just 
  
    good enough 
  
  when I can make you 
  
    perfect?”
  

  Katsumi 
  
    shivered. 
  
  She didn’t dare speak. Her eyes, so often full of rage and fury, shone with meek, obedient submission. She’d nearly been conquered by an alien after only knowing Shoko 
  
    was 
  
  an alien for a few hours.

  When Shoko had used some bizarre alien trick to 
  
    download 
  
  six billion years’ worth of history and alienf@ck@ng experience directly into Katsumi’s brain—or at least a selectively edited, carefully curated summary designed for the puny, easily-burned-out synapses of a pre-FTL species—she’d barely even been able to pay 
  
    attention 
  
  to any of it, she’d been so unbelievably f@cking h@rny. The thought of being pinned down and
  
     used 
  
  had always turned Katsumi on—but she’d always pictured 
  
    Izuku 
  
  to be the one who would do the pinning down and the using. Oh, she still absolutely wanted him to do that, don’t get her wrong, but now Shoko had started to insert herself into those fantasies…to say nothing of how she was giving Katsumi entirely new ones to boot.

  “Perfect,” she repeated numbly. “I…think I like the sound of that.”

  Shoko grinned. “I knew you would,” she said airily, eyes gleaming gold. “Now, go home and touch yourself 
  
    real 
  
  good tonight, yeah? I’ll be working on 
  
    convincing 
  
  my mate.”

  Katsumi blinked. “Uh…how?” she asked. “Deku’s never looked at me that way 
  
    once.”
  

  Shoko threw her head back, and 
  
    laughed. 
  
  “Oh, you silly, hopeless 
  
    human!” 
  
  she chortled. “He’s wanted to f@ck you for 
  
    years. 
  
  He’s wanted to keep you as his personal breeding pet since he first saw how hot you were. As for how…well. I 
  
    am 
  
  a shapeshifter. I figure I can give him a little bit of a…
  
    preview 
  
  of what it’ll be like to f@ck you, eh?”

  Katsumi’s red eyes widened. That…that sounded 
  
    exactly 
  
  like the kind of thing an immortal depraved s@x alien would do. And yet she still couldn’t wrap her head around it.

  Luckily, she didn’t need to. Shoko laid a re@ssuring hand on Katsumi’s shoulder, and said warmly, “Don’t you worry, Kacchan. By tomorrow, Izuku will be
  
     eager 
  
  to claim your p@ssy for his own.”

  Katsumi just whined. She didn’t even bother trying to pretend to get angry or upset at Shoko’s order to go m@st@rb@t@—they both knew she’d be doing it either way. One way or another, Shoko practically 
  
    owned 
  
  her now. 

  And 
  
    f@ck, 
  
  Katsumi kinda f@ck@ng liked that idea. 

  When Izuku finally did manage to extricate himself and Shoko from the reunion, he did so knowing 
  
    exactly 
  
  what Shoko had planned for him the moment they got back home.

  To be fair, that wasn’t really a very hard guess to make; Shoko had been 
  
    eyeing 
  
  him ever since about the midway point of the reunion dinner, her intent so blatantly obvious that not a single person there had missed it. On a human woman, the expression screamed, 
  
    “I’m going to take this absolute hunk home and f@ck him until he’s screaming my name.” 
  
  On an alien literally biologically crafted for the sole purpose of obscene sloppy breeding s@x…well, it still meant the same thing, it just meant it 
  
    harder.
  

  All of that meant that when Izuku turned the lock on the front door as he closed it behind them, he was already braced for impact by the time he heard the patter of feet on the hardwood floor as Shoko got a running start at him. He had just enough time to turn before she struck him, her soft body 
  
    slamming 
  
  into his own, her perfectly-sculpted t@ts already free of whatever nanotech clothing she’d worn—the kind she could order to dissolve away to nothingness with a single thought.

  Shoko’s tongue 
  
    wriggled 
  
  into Izuku’s mouth, making him groan as her fingers—and other appendages, where necessary—swiftly divested him of his own clothing. 

  Even though he knew she was more than willing to f@ck him right there in the entryway, Izuku managed to maneuver Shoko up into his arms, carrying her towards the couch, one rough-scarred hand squeezing her @ss and making her giggle with l@st.

  
    “Someone’s 
  
  excited,” she purred as she dove back in for another kiss. She was keeping the alien features to a relative minimum right now—if not for the gleaming eyes and the occasional flexible, boneless maneuver her gel-like true body allowed her to pull off, she seemed just like a normal, if gorgeous, human woman in Izuku’s arms.

  Izuku just chuckled. “I’m not the one who was trying to f@ck me before I even closed the door,” he shot back. “Don’t they teach you self control, all-powerful alien infiltrator?”

  Shoko laughed. “Believe me, this 
  
    is 
  
  me showing self control,” she shot back as Izuku’s lips pressed into her neck, creeping down towards the tops of her perfect br@@sts. “I haven’t even gotten you a 
  
    second 
  
  mate yet.”

  Suddenly, Izuku froze. Staring down at Shoko, all thoughts of s@x forgotten, he gave her a terrified look.

  “A what now?” he squeaked.

  Shoko raised an eyebrow. “A second mate,” she said. “What, did you think that I was going to 
  
    monopolize 
  
  your ridiculously amazing d@ck?”

  Izuku’s brain was barely functioning at the moment, but he managed to force out a reply. “Uh…kinda? I mean, I don’t really want any other woman except for you babe—”

  Shoko snorted. “To borrow one of your Earth terms, 
  
    b@llsh@t,” 
  
  she said, still smiling brightly. “You’ve known me for two weeks, Izuku. You and I 
  
    both 
  
  know you’ve had crushes for much longer. And I don’t blame you! Those are some 
  
    hot f@ck@ng girls 
  
  you’ve had in your cl@ss and as your friends for all these years! If I was in your place, I’d totally have half of them knocked up and worshiping my c@ck already! Not that I 
  
    have 
  
  a c@ck. Well, I 
  
    can 
  
  have one, if you want me to.”

  Izuku shook his head, eyes a little wide. “Uh…not really into that,” he said quickly. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about, really!”

  Shoko tilted her head. “I don’t believe youuuu,” she sang, body starting to ripple and shine, golden light leaking from her skin. “You’re telling me you’re childhood friends with 
  
    this 
  
  hot piece of @ss, and you’ve never wanted to stick your d@ck inside her?”

  In an effortless move, Shoko 
  
    flipped 
  
  them both over, her goolike body swirling and morphing as she did so, until she was straddling Izuku as he sat back on the couch, eyes wide as he watched her transform.

  Shoko shrank, growing shorter by a good few inches, her t@ts shrinking down to small, perky B-cups, her @ss growing and filling out. She became stronger, more toned, developing the scars and sculpted lines of a battle-tested hero. Her skin, though, stayed soft—as if it was continually bathed in glycerin.

  Izuku’s heart skipped a beat as he watched Shoko’s gleaming mismatched eyes turn from blue and gray to a single color—a bright, piercing red. Her chin sharpened, her features growing pointier, but no less beautiful. And her two-tone hair pulled up, tucked in, and became short, spiky, and fluffy, forming natural, unmistakable spikes.

  Now wearing the form of none other than Katsumi Bakugo, and still 
  
    completely 
  
  naked, Shoko tilted her head as she straddled Izuku’s lap, a truly 
  
    evil 
  
  smirk on her face as she watched him stare at her, his jaw hanging open.

  “I mean, come the f@ck 
  
    on!” 
  
  she chortled, even her vocal cords shifting enough to where her voice sounded 
  
    much 
  
  more like Katsumi’s surprisingly deep growl, though with Shoko’s speech patterns. “
  
    Look 
  
  at this girl! She’s 
  
    prime breeding stock, 
  
  if I do say so myself!”

  Izuku said nothing. He was too busy staring at the body Shoko now wore—the body of his childhood friend, the girl he’d been dreaming about for 
  
    years. 
  
  As far as he could tell, it was accurate down to the slightest detail—
  
    every 
  
  detail. He couldn’t bring himself to look lower than the false-Katsumi’s collarbone, but she was still 
  
    grinding 
  
  herself against his d@ck, and Izuku knew that the moment Shoko felt like it, he’d be learning what Katsumi Bakugo’s p@ssy felt like.

  Instead, he tried to focus on 
  
    other 
  
  things. It didn’t work, but he made a valiant effort anyway. “Can you please explain what you mean by 
  
    “second mate?” 
  
  he whimpered.

  Shoko—in Katsumi’s body—arced an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah, sure,” she said, her soft hands still stroking Izuku’s tip. “So, you know how your job now is to keep me pregnant for the next few hundred years at minimum?”

  Izuku nodded. His d@ck 
  
    pulsed 
  
  in Shoko’s hands—or more accurately, in Katsumi’s.

  “Well,” Shoko continued in Katsumi’s voice, “You see, since Nymiacs are functionally immortal, we care a lot about things like 
  
    species preservation 
  
  and 
  
    genetic diversity 
  
  in our partners. We…I’m trying not to translate it as some weird power dynamic thing here, but we kinda 
  
    selectively breed 
  
  strong, diverse gene pools in sentient species.”

  Izuku blinked. “I don’t think you managed to avoid that weird power dynamic,” he said in a strained voice—but maybe that was just Katsumi Bakugo’s fingertips on his b@lls. “Kinda making it sound like you keep sentient species as livestock, babe.”

  Shoko chuckled, Katsumi’s rarely-heard laughter filling the room. “Kinky,” she said, red eyes glinting. “But no, it’s more like…we try very very hard to not just turn the entire galaxy into one homogenous gene soup, right? Don’t get me wrong, genetically altering two completely different species into being able to hybridize is 
  
    awesome, 
  
  and I’m totally gonna be asking around to see if a couple of your new interstellar neighbors are interested in giving you some hot alien wives soon, but like…keeping species strong and breeding among themselves is one of the things Integrators are supposed to do. And also…well, Nymiac like me get pregnant a 
  
    lot, 
  
  but…we can only give birth to more Nymiac.”

  Izuku blinked. Deciding to ignore the 
  
    “hot alien wives” 
  
  comment with all his might, he instead gave Shoko an odd look. “Couldn’t you just alter the baby’s genes?” he asked.

  Shoko shook her head. “Nope,” she said. “It’s literally hard-coded into my genome like every other Nymiac, actually—our gametes only produce more Nymiac. It’s one of the only things that my species limited ourselves in when we embraced the Great Truths. Nymiac can’t impregnate other species, and we can’t get pregnant with anything except more Nymiac. Our hyperadvanced genome literally overwrites the alien species’ DNA, except for a few minor contributions from the father.”

  Izuku frowned, still trying to ignore the fact that Shoko was wearing the body of Katsumi Bakugo, and was 
  
    still 
  
  giving him a 
  
    glorious 
  
  handjob. “I think we got a little off track here,” he said slowly.

  Shoko just snorted. “I’m 
  
    getting 
  
  there, babe,” she @ssured him. “Anyway…oh, right. So, I’m going to be having your babies pretty much until the heat death of the universe, right?”

  Izuku tried not to squeak as he muttered, “Right.”

  Shoko heard it all the same, and chuckled again. “The problem is, all those babies are gonna be Nymiac,” she said. “And eventually they’ll all spread out over the planet, breed with other humans, and eventually this planet will have about as many Nymiac on it as humans. But of course, once every human man has his own personal shapeshifting slutty s@x alien who wants him to knock her up 24/7, well, then we run into issues. Specifically, who’s going to knock up all the hot human women so that there are 
  
    more
  
   hot humans in the future? Well, the answer is simple—the human men! 
  
    With 
  
  the help of the Nymiac!”

  Izuku tried to follow that, but at this point his hips were bucking as the movement of Shoko-Katsumi’s hands around his c@ck began to increase in speed and skill.

  “And of course, as far as 
  
    “genes I want to keep in the human gene pool” 
  
  go, 
  
    you’ve 
  
  got just about all of ‘em,” Shoko continued. “So even if I wanted to keep you all to myself, it’d just be a 
  
    waste. 
  
  I want you to find a hot human girl—or twenty—and 
  
    breed 
  
  them. A lot. Over and over and 
  
    over. 
  
  Just like you’re going to be doing to me.”

  Shoko leaned forward then, pressing her—well, technically Katsumi’s, but it was 
  
    definitively 
  
  Shoko in there—forehead against Izuku’s so that his whole world became her gleaming, depraved eyes.

  “And that brings us to Katsumi Bakugo,” Shoko said. “A girl who, within five seconds of meeting her, I realized has been in 
  
    desperate f@ck@ng need 
  
  of your babies in her belly since the day she saw you win your first fight. A girl 
  
    you’ve 
  
  dreamed about having s@x with for years. A girl I’m going to turn into a broodmare with every single part of her body f@ck@ng 
  
    optimized 
  
  for turning loads of your c@m into babies.”

  Izuku whined, partially at the images Shoko’s words were conjuring, and partially at the fact that Shoko had apparently gotten impatient, and finally lifted her hips and completely sheathed his c@ck inside her—well, Katsumi’s p@ssy. To be sure, it didn’t 
  
    feel 
  
  like Shoko’s alien c@nt; she had a tendency to shapeshift it into sprouting all sorts of obscene extra features while Izuku was f@ck@ng her, from tentacles to drag him deeper inside her to ribbed structures to milk him to lining her entire p@ssy with rows of waving, nimble ciliae to m@ssage his c@ck from every angle. This p@ssy…it was hot, and wet, and 
  
    incredibly 
  
  tight, and unmistakably Katsumi Bakugo’s p@ssy. Izuku…didn’t really want to know how Shoko had gotten such accurate measurements of the inside of Katsumi’s c@nt.

  As Shoko began to ride his c@ck, she leaned in closer, those mad, obscene eyes searing into his soul. “Unless,” she purred, “You have 
  
    another 
  
  girl in mind to bear your children. Is that the case, Izuku? Do you wanna breed a 
  
    different 
  
  one of your lovely female friends?”

  Izuku let out a helpless groan. “I…I…” he tried to protest. But he knew hiding any s@xual desire from the slutty s@x alien was never going to happen.

  Katsumi-Shoko wiggled her hips down 
  
    further, 
  
  until Izuku’s c@ck was fully stuffed into her tight p@ssy. “I think you do,” she declared as she rocked her hips. “I think you’re a 
  
    greedy, 
  
  greedy boy, isn’t that right? It isn’t enough that Katsumi would literally kneel on the ground and beg for your c@ck if you told her to. It isn’t enough to keep the strongest, most powerful girl you’ve ever known as your personal breeding pet. You want 
  
    more, 
  
  Izuku, don’t you? Do you maybe want…
  
    this 
  
  girl?”

  Izuku forced himself not to screw his eyes shut as Shoko’s form began to ripple and morph again. Katsumi’s blond hair and gleaming red eyes faded, her t@ts filling out and getting heavier, her body growing curvier, rounder, with strength beneath it but a softened edge to it, as her hair turned brown and hung to frame her pretty, pink-cheeked face.

  Now taking the shape of a 
  
    very 
  
  naked Ochako Uraraka, Shoko continued to ride Izuku’s c@ck, Ochako’s bigger, heavier t@ts with their adorable inverted nipples bouncing and slapping against her chest. “You wanna knock this girl up too, Izuku?” he heard Ochako’s voice ask smugly. “You wanna put a baby in your best friend’s belly?”

  Izuku whimpered as Shoko rode his c@ck. He tried to look anywhere but Ochako’s smiling face as he nodded weakly. It was all the admission Shoko needed to laugh.

  “I’ll make it happen,” she panted, her own l@st starting to overwhelm her now. “I’ll get 
  
    both 
  
  of them for you. I’ll stack their p@ss@@s up on your bed for you to breed. I’ll have them fertile and ready for you, made 
  
    perfect, 
  
  so eager to be f@ck@d that they’ll 
  
    beg 
  
  you for the honor of getting pregnant first. You want that, babe? You want it?”

  Izuku nodded. This time it was less reluctant. He 
  
    leaned 
  
  forwards, sitting up in the couch to pull Ochako-Shoko tight to his body and kiss her on the lips, the lips he’d always dreamed of kissing for real.

  Shoko met his kiss eagerly, greedily. It was hard for Izuku to remember that it was actually 
  
    her, 
  
  though, because the sight and sensation of Ochako kissing him furiously as she f@ck@d herself on his c@ck, her p@ssy wetter and hotter than Katsumi’s, with a little less muscle squeezing down on his d@ck but more ripples and folds in her walls to add sensation and variety to make up for it, was so overwhelmingly 
  
    right 
  
  that it made it hard to think.

  And then Shoko started to change again. Her lips still locked to Izuku’s, she glowed and morphed, growing taller—taller than Izuku, eventually—with a gorgeous hourgl@ss figure and porcelain-pale skin. Her t@ts grew yet larger, into absolute visions of perfection, perky and full and aching to be groped, while her hair turned jet-black and spiraled out into a spiky ponytail.

  Now wearing the form of Momo Yaoyorozu, Shoko smirked at the way Izuku went right back to a disbelieving stare at the sight of his gorgeous former cl@ssmate slamming her hips down on his c@ck.

  “This one too, I bet,” she panted as she f@ck@d herself on him. “I bet you wanna knock Momo up too. You wanna breed her? You wanna breed the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen? You wanna put a baby in Yaomomo?”

  Izuku 
  
    whined. 
  
  “Shoko,” he gasped. “I…why are you doing this?”

  Shoko ignored him. “Answer the question,” she hissed as she squeezed down 
  
    tight 
  
  around him. Momo’s p@ssy was 
  
    wet, 
  
  wetter than Katsumi’s, wetter than Ochako’s. It was like she wanted him so badly that her body had gone into a frenzy. A 
  
    breeding 
  
  frenzy.

  Izuku felt Momo-Shoko’s arms wrap around his back, her t@ts shoved into his face. His whole world was those perfect pale br@@sts, their heat and weight and softness filling his mind and his vision.

  
    “Yes!” 
  
  he cried into the world of boobflesh. 
  
    “Yes, I wanna knock her uuuuuppp!”
  

  Shoko pulled back again. They were at full speed now, sprinting headlong towards their mutual climax. And 
  
    still, 
  
  she kept taunting him. She started to morph again, her p@ssy 
  
    quivering 
  
  around Izuku’s c@ck as she never stopped f@ck@ng him, even as her body turned to clear gel and slimmed back down, her t@ts shrinking into nubby little A-cups with cute nipples, her earlobes elongating, her hair turning purple.

  “What about this one?” Shoko demanded of Kyoka Jirou’s body. “Wanna knock this slip of a girl up? Maybe it’ll finally let her grow the big milky b@@bs she’s always wanted!”

  Izuku was beyond words now, beyond shame. He just nodded, and his hands flew to Kyoka-Shoko’s waist, 
  
    slamming 
  
  her down further, shoving his c@ck as deep into her as it would go.

  He kept his hands there as Shoko morphed again. Her skin turned pink, her @ss and thighs plumped outwards, her body developing a dancer’s toned shape as horns sprouted from her curly hair.

  “It just doesn’t stop, does it?” Mina-Shoko taunted him, golden, dark eyes gleaming with depravity. “How many of these girls do you want to f@ck? How many do you want to have round pregnant bellies? How many babies do you want to 
  
    put 
  
  in them?”

  Izuku couldn’t answer those questions. He didn’t 
  
    dare 
  
  answer those questions. The answers terrified him.

  Shoko kept shapeshifting. She was Eiko Kirishima, her hard-muscled body tough and powerful against him, her p@ssy squeezing down so tightly it nearly 
  
    hurt. 
  
  She was Tsuyu Asui, Tooru Hagakure. She was even turning into girls Izuku 
  
    knew 
  
  she’d never met, shouldn’t have even known existed—Itsuka Kendo, Ibara Shiozaki, Nejire Hado. She was making him f@ck every beautiful woman he’d ever known, making him 
  
    want 
  
  them. Making him want to 
  
    knock them up.
  

  Finally, though, she ended it where she’d begun. Her body once again shifted into the shape of Katsumi Bakugo’s, and it was all too much for Izuku. The sight of those red eyes, that blonde hair, that gorgeously athletic body impaled on his c@ck…it drove him over the edge. He pulled Katsumi-Shoko tight, and 
  
    came.
  

  Shoko 
  
    laughed 
  
  as she came too, her p@ssy rippling as it milked Izuku for every drop of c@m he was worth. There were no words to it. It was the deranged, mad laugh of an immortal being of pure s@xuality successfully pulling her mate deeper into the pit of depravity. And it made Izuku want her all the more.

  When he slumped back against the pillows, exhausted and drained in more ways than one, Shoko remained atop him. She leaned over, eyes boring deep into him.

  “Say the word, babe,” she told him. “Say you want them, and I’ll make them yours. Believe me, they want you, too. Katsumi most of all. I’ll make sure your kids are inside each and every one of them before the end of the year. I’ll make sure you get them all 
  
    so f@ck@ng pregnant.”
  

  Izuku didn’t have the strength to hold out anymore. Not against an offer like that. He managed to lower his gaze to look Shoko in the eye, and nodded. 

  “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

  Shoko’s lips curled back, and her teeth flashed. 

  “I 
  
    knew 
  
  you’d see things my way, babe,” she cooed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go…
  
    make preparations.”
  

  There was a flash of black, and a 
  
    thump. 
  
  Shoko disappeared, teleporting away to…well Izuku could kinda 
  
    guess
  
   where she’d gone. But that thought only terrified him more.

  He closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

  Shoko appeared in Katsumi Bakugo’s bedroom with zero warning and less interest in f@ck@ng around.

  Katsumi 
  
    yelped 
  
  in terror as Shoko stepped forwards. Katsumi was totally naked, her legs splayed apart and a puddle of juices beneath her @ss, leaking from her p@ssy, which was currently stuffed with a 
  
    very 
  
  interesting green d@ld@.

  “O-Oi!” Katsumi snarled. “Haven’t you ever heard of 
  
    knocking, 
  
  you freaky alien b@tch?”

  Shoko raised an eyebrow. “Nope,” she said. “On my home planet, we announce our presence with bl@wj@bs.”

  Katsumi blinked. “You’re lying,” she declared. She wasn’t even trying to cover herself up or conceal the evidence of her masturbation anymore. She seemed to be that incensed by Shoko’s answer.

  Shoko, though, only smirked. “I’m not, but I don’t care enough to prove it to you right now,” she said. “Izuku said yes.”

  
    That 
  
  made Katsumi sit up and listen. “W-wait, seriously?” she asked. “Deku said he—he’ll actually—”

  “F@ck you?” Shoko finished helpfully. “Yep. Breed you? Double yep. F@ck your slutty pregnant wh@r@ p@ssy every day for the rest of your life? Well, he didn’t actually 
  
    say 
  
  that part, but it was heavily implied.”

  Katsumi shuddered. “I…uh…” she stammered, possibly the most un-Katsumi-like thing she’d ever done. “So…what now?”

  The grin that covered Shoko’s face then was the kind of grin that had, in the past, when worn by other Nymiacs, ended wars, broken fleets, shattered planets, and turned entire galaxies into h@rny, submissive, pleading f@cktoys of their own free will.

  “Well,” she purred, “Now, I take you up to my ship, and turn you into a perfect vessel for Izuku’s babies.”

  Katsumi’s eyes went wide. But there was nothing she could do. Shoko leaped across the room in the blink of an eye, and grabbed Katsumi faster than any human could ever react.

  There was a flash of black, and a 
  
    thump. 
  
  And then there was nothing in the room but a moist d@ld@ and a pool of p@ssy juices. 

  When Katsumi was aware of her surroundings again, she found herself in a nearly featureless, curving white void, the edges blinking and humming with lights and machines she would never be able to understand.

  Oh, and she was also completely naked, lying on a rectangular bed made of material so soft and perfect she could feel it conforming to her body on a cellular level, and with all four of her limbs bound to the sleek metallic bedposts with…fuzzy handcuffs. Fuzzy 
  
    alien 
  
  handcuffs.

  Katsumi glanced around what had to be the interior of Shoko’s ship, goosebumps rippling across her bare skin. She’d never expected to end up on an alien spaceship, much less naked and about to be remodeled on the genetic level, but hey, first time for everything and all that.

  “Are the cuffs…really necessary?” she asked aloud, almost sounding shy—which for Katsumi Bakugo meant she really 
  
    was 
  
  shy.

  Shoko turned from where she had been doing…
  
    something 
  
  on one of the ship’s systems to give Katsumi a smug grin. As usual, it reminded Katsumi that, no matter how well the shapeshifting immortal alien could look like a human, there was always 
  
    something 
  
  about her that just felt off. Part of it was how striking she always made herself; the heterochromia and the body literally more perfect than a goddess were big parts of it, but there was also just a 
  
    look 
  
  in her eyes too wild, too deranged, too old and powerful to be human. Her dual-colored gaze seemed to 
  
    glow 
  
  as it raked over Katsumi’s completely naked body.

  To be fair, Katsumi 
  
    did 
  
  have a fantastic body; even with a petite frame, her dense gymnast muscle and sculpted ass were a sight to behold. Though her t@ts were small in absolute terms—especially next to Shoko and her 
  
    godly 
  
  b@@bs—they were perky and appealing. With a naturally smooth and hairless body thanks to her quirk, Katsumi was 
  
    supremely 
  
  f@ckable, and she knew it.

  But it wasn’t good enough. She wanted 
  
    more. 
  
  She wanted to be 
  
    perfect. 
  
  Perfect for Shoko. Perfect for Izuku. Perfect for them to breed. The most masterfully crafted baby-making machine in the universe.

  Luckily, having an alien shapeshifter who could literally sculpt people on the genetic level—and had literally been sent to Earth to use that power for the twin purposes of babymaking and encouraging absolute s@xual deviancy—who was 
  
    extremely 
  
  invested in you and her boyfriend having as many kids as possible…opened some doors. Especially now, with Katsumi proving quite happy to be a willing test subject for 
  
    particularly 
  
  out-there enhancements.

  Enhancements like the ones she was going to be given today. The ones Shoko had offered her a vision of back in that restaurant bathroom, the ones that Katsumi had been gooning herself endlessly thinking of the entire evening. 

  Shoko chuckled as she sashayed back to the bed. “No, not really,” she confirmed, plucking at one of the cuffs that chained Katsumi’s ankles and wrists to the bedposts. “I just think it’s more fun this way.”

  Katsumi would’ve argued with that…but Shoko had a point. Besides, what did it matter, really? One way or another she was coming out of this room unrecognizable.

  “So…we ready, then?” she asked.

  Shoko tilted her head, and once again those eyes glimmered with iridescent, otherworldly light. “That depends,” she answered. “Are 
  
    you 
  
  ready to become Izuku’s perfect broodmare?”

  Katsumi 
  
    shuddered. 
  
  She could already feel herself getting wet just from the idea. Still, she managed to ask, “Is…is this the part where you ask me if I’m 
  
    sure, 
  
  because once we do this there’s no going back?”

  Shoko chuckled, running a hand across Katsumi’s flat belly. “Nah,” she said. “You don’t like it, I’ll just turn you right back. But my goal is to make you decide you 
  
    never 
  
  want to do that.”

  With the ease of a body crafted for utter perfection, she vaulted up onto the bed, her briefly-reassembled nanofabric clothes practically tearing 
  
    themselves 
  
  off until her enormous t@ts and flawless skin filled Katsumi’s vision. She straddled Katsumi’s hips, her hands on the shorter girl’s shoulders, visibly relishing the sight of her fellow mate’s naked body spread beneath her.

  For a girl who’d never found herself in this position before, pinned beneath the six-billion-year-old alien sex goddess sent to turn Katsumi’s childhood friend into the progenitor of the next step in human evolution, Katsumi could already tell that she’d 
  
    never 
  
  get tired of seeing Shoko’s eyes swirl with unknowable colors as she got ready to treat Katsumi’s genetic code like her personal Play-Doh. 

  “Where do you wanna start?” she asked sweetly, her slender fingers waggling as she eyed Katsumi’s body. “T@ts? Mouth? @ss? They’ll all be getting changed here soon enough.”

  Katsumi whimpered. When she didn’t answer, Shoko chose for her.

  “Let’s start off nice and simple,” she decided, lowering her hands down Katsumi’s belly to between her spread legs. “Get the basics in order. First things first, this p@ssy needs some 
  
    upgrades.”
  

  Her fingers swirled with golden light as they pressed down where Katsumi’s cervix was, and Katsumi 
  
    bucked 
  
  in her restraints as her womb filled with heat. A wordless cry of pleasure escaped her lips, but Shoko ignored it. Instead, she spoke softly, as if to herself, while one hand continued rubbing the glowing light into Katsumi’s cervix while the other found Katsumi’s c@nt.

  “Hmm,” she hummed. “Maximized fertility…shortened gestation time…ooh, how about I make having your cervix teased by Izuku’s c@ck the most insane pleasure imaginable? Would you like that?”

  Katsumi’s eyes screwed shut as Shoko’s fingers pushed inside her. She nodded frantically, then moaned loudly as an extra-strong pulse of heat heralded the gentle massaging of her cervix into the perfect shape to take Izuku’s c@ck and squeeze every last drop of c@m out of it. Her womb was swelling too, bulging, getting greedier, more desperate. Ready to breed at the slightest drop of a hat. 

  Her p@ssy was changing too; she could feel her cl@t swelling, growing more sensitive and more obvious until it was permanently erect, a throbbing little button that anyone who saw her fat-lipped, drooling, squishy new c@nt would instantly know to inflict untold torments upon, milking @rg@sms out of her nearly as efficiently as the rippling, fleshy walls of her breeding-addicted p@ssy.

  Shoko drew back a little. “What do you think?” she asked brightly, drawing Katsumi’s attention down to where her swollen womb was visibly bulging in her belly, engorged and desperate to be filled, every detail of her ovaries and Fallopian tubes etched into her skin. It was so hot, and the feeling of being 
  
    empty 
  
  so desperate, that Katsumi came the second Shoko flicked a finger against her new cl@t to demonstrate how sensitive it was. Her hips bucked wildly, the whole bed shaking as Katsumi howled at her first modification of many. Her p@ssy 
  
    squeezed 
  
  down harder than she’d ever thought possible, her cervix trying to suck up imaginary c@m and trap it inside her womb so it could fertilize her ready, waiting egg.

  Shoko chuckled at the sight. “You’re already desperate to get pregnant, aren’t you?” she simpered. “You want so badly to try out the 
  
    rest 
  
  of the modifications I gave you. The total removal of all those side effects and symptoms…no morning sickness, no mood swings, not even any birthing pains! Just pleasure and @rg@sms from birthing Izuku’s children. Nothing but a happy, perfect life of permanent pregnancy, popping out baby after baby for Izuku. Isn’t that right?”

  Katsumi nearly sobbed as she nodded, despite knowing just how much more change her body was in for today. Shoko proved that a second layer, when she forced Katsumi to raise her hips up higher, granting access to her ass.

  “Now,” the alien murmured, “Why don’t we make 
  
    this 
  
  a proper breeding hole too?”

  With that, she shoved a finger inside, working it up into the tight, cleaned-out confines of Katsumi’s rear end with a deft confidence that made Katsumi gasp and moan all over again.

  Shoko’s finger 
  
    twisted, 
  
  and Katsumi’s eyes instantly snapped open again as she realized that letting a shapeshifting appendage into her ass could only lead to one thing. Sure enough, a second later Shoko leaned in closer, and 
  
    pushed. 
  
  Katsumi cried out ecstatically as what felt like a whole 
  
    nest 
  
  of wriggling tendrils pushed their way deeper into her ass, branching and spreading the hot, tingling feeling of her very cells being rewritten everywhere they touched. 

  Shoko grinned up at Katsumi as she writhed, her @ssh@l@ spread open and getting absolutely 
  
    plumbed, 
  
  already starting to twitch as it transformed. “You already have such a perfect ass, Kacchan,” she said, enjoying the use of Katsumi’s nickname to tease her. “I can’t wait to watch Izuku f@ck it. But that’s just not good enough. I want to watch him 
  
    breed 
  
  it. And that means it’s time to make it 
  
    better.”
  

  Katsumi moaned as something 
  
    cinched 
  
  within her ass, which had been stuffed so full by whatever Shoko was shapeshifting her fingers into that it felt incredible. The burning sensation had filled up her stomach now, and she could see the bulge in her belly where, even as she watched, a second womb was taking shape in the space previously occupied by now-redundant organs. Shoko was making her body so efficient, she wouldn’t need to eat or drink anything except Izuku’s c@m now, after all.

  And still, Shoko kept Katsumi’s ass impaled by those fingers. The changing feeling spread, from the womb she was crafting to Katsumi’s hips and ass and thighs. 

  “Go on,” Shoko cooed. “Get nice and 
  
    thicc 
  
  for me, Kacchan. Grow a pair of 
  
    breeder
  
   hips.”

  Katsumi’s eyes rolled back as she obeyed. Her pelvic bones ground together as they changed, becoming wider, more flexible, easier to shift during pregnancy. Her waist cinched in even more, creating a truly gorgeous figure that would become even more enticing with pregnancy. Her powerful thighs thickened, retaining their strength, but developing a softness that rounded out her body perfectly. And then her ass started to grow.

  Katsumi felt it start to swell even as Shoko started putting the finishing touches on the womb that now rubbed up against its partner, her asscheeks growing, fleshing out, getting fatter and wider and firmer until, at last, she had an ass so perfectly formed it felt 
  
    unfair. 
  
  Once Izuku saw it, he’d be trying to get her @ssh@l@ pregnant long before he ever knew that he actually 
  
    could, 
  
  now.

  Shoko withdrew her fingers, scraping them deliberately against the walls of Katsumi’s new assp@ssy, making her c@m almost as an afterthought; the stimulation of her moist, 
  
    ribbed 
  
  new buttc@nt walls was so overwhelming Katsumi’s enhanced hips bucked repeatedly. Her @ssh@l@ truly was a second p@ssy, now; hypersensitive, self-lubricating, and rippling with muscle to milk and squeeze every last drop of c@m out of Izuku’s d@ck.

  Shoko chuckled again at the sight of Katsumi’s @ssh@l@ dripping with arousal, eternally ready to be penetrated and knocked up. “Whaddya think, Katsumi?” she asked cloyingly. “I love watching your assp@ssy 
  
    quiver. 
  
  I wonder how it’ll look the first time Izuku stuffs it with his fat f@ck@ng c@ck.”

  Katsumi’s thick new thighs tried to clench just at the thought, arousal staining the sheets beneath her from her p@ssy 
  
    and 
  
  her @ssh@l@, only to be denied by the cuffs. She whimpered, for what little good it did.

  Shoko finally left her lower body, creeping up the bed on slender, graceful limbs until her face filled Katsumi’s vision.

  “That’s two holes done,” she said, her smirk wider than ever. “But now it’s time for the 
  
    real 
  
  fun to start.”

  Katsumi’s heart skipped a beat in her chest as she looked down to see Shoko’s hands shapeshifting again. They branched out into dozens of red-tinted tentacles, slender and agile, each capped with a flat sucker. Slowly, Shoko lowered them onto Katsumi’s small, B-cup t@ts.

  Did Shoko’s tentacle-fingers in any way resemble how she 
  
    actually 
  
  modified other people’s genes? No. Was her using tentacle-fingers strictly 
  
    necessary 
  
  for what was about to happen? Probably not. 

  Did they make it 
  
    so much f@ck@ng hotter? 
  
  Yes. Very, 
  
    very 
  
  yes, if you asked Katsumi.

  Katsumi held back a yelp as she felt the suckers attach; more than a dozen fastened onto each of her t@ts, forming loose rings around the edges of her aerolas; a few more targeted her nipples themselves, covering the little pink nubs up entirely.

  Her shapeshifted hands looming over Katsumi’s t@ts, Shoko shifted her weight forwards again, so that her bare p@ssy was rubbing over Katsumi’s throbbing wombs. The feeling nearly made Katsumi c@m again.

  
    “This 
  
  is always my favorite part,” Shoko said, eyes glowing with that insane, incomprehensible alien light again. She was clearly relishing every second of Katsumi writhing beneath her, moaning as she was transformed. “Taking a girl with cute little t@tt@@s, and making them into 
  
    fat. F@ck@ng. Udders.”
  

  As she spoke, bulges seemed to ripple down the sucker-tentacles attached to Katsumi’s t@ts. Katsumi watched them with bated breath. Each one was a little bit of Shoko’s own genetically perfect body, being split off and injected to modify Katsumi’s genes in targeted, practically cell-specific ways, sculpting her genome and flesh with all the skill of a Renaissance master shaping marble. Katsumi had gotten 
  
    quite 
  
  the rundown of how it worked from Shoko, with a whole lot of big complicated words she was fairly sure were straight-up unknown to human science. She didn’t really understand how Shoko did what she did. But 
  
    fuck 
  
  it was hot to watch those little bumps of gel descend, knowing exactly what would happen when they reached her body.

  When they did, Katsumi saw white. She came so hard, cunt-juices (and ass-juices, now that her @ssh@l@ produced just as much lubricant as her p@ssy) squirted all over the bed, spraying newly reformatted nectar onto the sheets. Heat 
  
    lanced 
  
  into her t@ts, making them feel like hot air balloons attached to her chest as she swore they started to 
  
    glow. 
  
  In what felt like an instant, Katsumi’s B-cups grew into C-cups, swollen and pert, throbbing under the attentions of those suckers. They 
  
    spilled 
  
  out onto her chest with a wet 
  
    thwack.
  

  As Katsumi’s mind went blank from the swelling and the heat, and another bulge began to descend from Shoko’s tentacle-fingers, signifying the next pulse of her expansion, Shoko leaned in closer.

  “Come on, Kacchan,” she hissed, still smiling that alien smile. 
  
    “Change 
  
  for me. 
  
    Grow. 
  
  Let those sad little br@@sts of yours transform. Let them turn into proper, fat 
  
    udders. 
  
  Grow the t@ts you always deserved to have, little breeding cow. Do it for me, and I’ll give you something even 
  
    more 
  
  special. I’ll give you 
  
    fuckable 
  
  t@ts. 
  
    Breedable 
  
  t@ts.”

  Katsumi couldn’t speak anymore. Not when the next round of changes hit and her C-cups turned into 
  
    D-cups, 
  
  swelling steadily until they were as big as Momo Yaoyorozu’s legendary b@@bs. Big enough to make Katsumi strut around happily forever. But still not perfect.

  Shoko leaned in closer. Another swell formed in her tentacles. 
  
    “Bigger,” 
  
  she hissed as the bulge descended towards Katsumi’s burning bust.

  Katsumi’s jaw dropped, tongue curling and eyes rolling as she @rg@smed again at the moment of impact. Her t@ts 
  
    exploded 
  
  outwards again, growing another cup size. They were seething hurricanes of heat and roiling sensation now, so pleasurable that their mere existence was keeping Katsumi on the edge of climax.

  And still Shoko prepared the next dose. 
  
    “Bigger,” 
  
  she repeated.

  Katsumi couldn’t even 
  
    think
  
   of what her cup size was now. All she knew was that Shoko was now ministering to 
  
    mounds 
  
  of titflesh attached to her own body, big enough that they 
  
    sloshed 
  
  back and forth with every motion her thrashing body made. It felt like there was something inside them now, maybe some of Shoko’s tendrils, delivering their cargoes right into Katsumi’s milk ducts.

  Those mismatched eyes seared right into Katsumi’s soul as she felt her back and chest adapting to the weight of her growing udders, developing stronger muscles and a healthier, better-designed spine.  
  
    “Bigger.”
  

  This time, Katsumi felt her t@ts slap against the bed, their weight pulling them sideways, spilling over her chest as she arched her back in a frantic thrashing @rg@sm, howling wordless pleasure into Shoko’s face. She was as big as Shoko was now, maybe bigger; and like Shoko herself, Katsumi’s t@ts showed no sag, no loss of perkiness, and only the barest concessions to their weight or to gravity itself. 

  At last, though, it seemed to be over. Shoko began to withdraw, looking satisfied. “Well,” she said. “I think that’s quite big enough. You look lovely, Katsumi.”

  And then Katsumi shook her head. Looking Shoko in the eye, she tried to speak, despite the @rg@sms, despite the exhaustion, despite it all.

  Shoko raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to say something, pet?” she asked gently. “Go on. Use your words.”

  Katsumi took a deep, hungry breath. She looked Shoko in the eye. She spoke.

  
    “Bigger,” 
  
  she whispered.

  For the first time since she’d been cornered in that restaurant bathroom—maybe since Shoko had come to Earth—Katsumi saw Shoko look shocked. She hadn’t expected that…but judging by how quickly her expression shifted to 
  
    eagerness, 
  
  she was very much on board with the idea.

  “I 
  
    knew 
  
  there was a reason I liked you, Kacchan,” she purred, leaning close once again, until her own t@ts were rubbing against Katsumi’s swelling br@@sts, surrounded by dozens of red tentacles that seemed to be pumping heat into her body. “Go on then. You wanna be bigger for Izuku? Be able to carry his babies in your 
  
    t@ts?”
  

  Katsumi whimpered as she nodded. “Wanna be 
  
    perfect,” 
  
  she whispered, her grammar broken by repeated @rg@sms. 

  Shoko beamed. Another swelling of her tentacles began.

  “Then you will be, Kacchan,” she promised. “You‘ll be 
  
    so f@ck@ng perfect.”
  

  The change came. So did Katsumi. Her body bucked, twitched, and the feeling of 
  
    growing 
  
  melted whatever was left of her brain. She passed out in an @rg@sm so violent she felt the cuffs on her wrists and ankles nearly snap.

  When she came to a few moments later, she looked down to see…perfection.

  T@ts bigger than Katsumi’s own 
  
    head 
  
  were now swaying on her chest, jiggling and sloshing with what she knew had to be milk inside them. They retained their perkiness still, but the sheer mass of them dragged them downwards, until Katsumi’s upper body appeared to be 50% tit by sheer volume. 

  Katsumi whimpered just at the sight of her fat new udders. She was ruined now, she knew; her athletic figure, her heroics career, and, the first time someone saw her transformed into a breeding b@tch, her reputation, too.

  But she didn’t care. Really, she should totally just quit heroics! Just become Izuku and Shoko’s lovely little live-in broodmare, all her pregnant holes eternally stuffed with c@m…

  Katsumi was jolted from her idle fantasy by a 
  
    jab 
  
  at her nipples that made her yelp.

  Shoko smirked at her as Katsumi whined under her touch. Those damned tendrils were still wriggling where her fingers should have been, clustered in tightly around Katsumi’s nubby pink nipples, which were stretched obscenely across huge new masses of titflesh.

  “Don’t tell me you already forgot, Kacchan?” Shoko simpered as more tendrils attached to Katsumi’s nipples, stroking across them, nurturing them until they were stiff and erect, starting to push against them as if trying to stretch them 
  
    open. 
  
  “I did say that Izuku was going to be able to 
  
    breed 
  
  your t@ts. That means he needs to be able to stick his 
  
    d@ck 
  
  inside them.”

  Katsumi moaned, but really, it was well out of her hands at this point; Shoko was fully lost in the joy of preparing Katsumi for her mate, and was going to give Katsumi nipple-p@ss@@s whether she liked it or not. Just as well that she 
  
    really, really 
  
  liked it.

  Shoko’s tendrils were 
  
    definitely 
  
  doing something to Katsumi’s nipples now; they were pulsing, white-hot points of light amidst the sea of pleasure that was her jiggling, milky chest, completely obscured from Katsumi’s hazy vision by a forest of thick red tentacles. Katsumi could feel her nipples starting to change; they were swelling outwards, getting darker, seeming to sink down 
  
    into 
  
  her t@ts.

  “Come on,” Shoko murmured. “Open up for me. Let me into those nipples, Kacchan. Let me turn them into 
  
    c@nts.”
  

  Katsumi just moaned louder, her body obeying Shoko’s command; bit by bit, her nipples 
  
    stretched. 
  
  They were seething now, her genes edited, her cells remodeled. They became what Shoko told them to become.

  At last, some of the tendrils pulled back into Shoko’s body, and Katsumi glanced down. Her t@ts were so big now that she could clearly see what had happened to her once-small nipples. 

  She gasped. Her nipples had sunken partially into her t@ts, though they still protruded outwards more than an inch from her aerolae. They were deep brown in color now, almost black, and came to a long, thin, wrinkled seam that closed vertically. They were flushed and hot to the touch, and continually leaked fluid, proving stretchy and lubricated as Shoko’s tendrils spread them apart to reveal shockingly pink walls. They looked…well, they looked like 
  
    p@ss@@s. 
  
  Not copies of Katsumi’s actual p@ssy—they had no cl@ts, were smaller and rounder and protruded out from the surrounding flesh much like her nipples always had. No, these were her nipples…they were just 
  
    fuckable 
  
  now, and advertised that fact shamelessly.

  Shoko spread Katsumi’s new nipples wider, and the sheer 
  
    pleasure 
  
  of it—because, of course, Shoko had made her nipple-p@ss@@s so sensitive Katsumi was brought to the edge of @rg@sm just from the slightest touch to them—made Katsumi buck beneath her.
“Look at you,” the immortal alien whispered, flush with triumph. “Completely tamed. Completely mine. Completely Izuku’s. Completely. F@ck@ng. Breedable. But you’re not finished yet.”
  Her finger-tendrils grew up again, and Katsumi watched with wide, trembling eyes as huge, branching, multi-limbed tentacles positioned themselves at the entrances of her newly-formed fuckable nipples, slowly starting to push inside to begin the next stage of her transformation, all while Shoko’s obscene grin filled her vision.

  “You need 
  
    wombs, 
  
  Kacchan,” she explained. “What’s the point of nipples Izuku can stick his d@ck in if there’s no womb for his c@m to put a baby inside? You’ll love having pregnant t@ts, Katsumi; your nipplecunts leaking milk, lubricating themselves so Izuku can still fuck them…how soft and stretchy and breedable you’ll be…”

  The tentacles pushed deeper. Katsumi 
  
    howled 
  
  as her nipples were f@ck@d for the first time, tendrils branching out in what felt like every possible direction inside her br@@sts, spreading heat and pleasure and changing everything they found to suit them. Her milk ducts were opening up, starting to produce. Empty space inside them, though, was starting to turn into something else. Open, fleshy spaces, with ovaries and a cervix protecting them from the outside world. Wombs. Wombs inside her 
  
    nipples.
  

  As Katsumi rode out yet another shrieking @rg@sm, Shoko leaned in even closer. She was starting to alternate the lazy, gentle thrusts of her tentacle-fingers into Katsumi’s nipples now, giving her the slightest teaser for what being f@ck@d in them would feel like, once she was presented to Izuku like the prime piece of breeding meat she was.

  “You’re looking 
  
    so 
  
  good, Kacchan,” she whispered as she pumped Katsumi’s t@ts into perfection, filled the empty space inside them with everything they needed to get pregnant. “But you’ve got one hole left. One hole that isn’t fertile yet. You wanna give that to me too? Make sure that there’ll never be any such 
  
    thing 
  
  as safe sex for you ever again? Make sure that no matter what hole you let Izuku fuck, you’ll be 
  
    absolutely guaranteed 
  
  to get pregnant?”

  Katsumi screwed her eyes shut. 
  
    “Yeshhh!” 
  
  she shrieked, thrashing helplessly in her cuffs as she came, p@ssy and @ssh@l@ squirting juices, her titwombs taking shape rapidly. 
  
    “Dooooo iiiitttt!”
  

  Shoko’s eyes began to 
  
    literally 
  
  glow with a searing gold light. That seemed to happen sometimes, when she got especially excited about turning a girl into an obscene fetish-fuel version of her old self.

  “Then buckle up, Kacchan,” she said, opening her mouth wide—and then 
  
    unhinging her jaw completely. 
  
  “Because I know 
  
    exactly 
  
  what I want to do to that mouth of yours.”

  Katsumi’s jaw would have dropped, had Shoko’s statement not made her slam her mouth shut in abject, aroused fear as what was probably 
  
    supposed 
  
  to be Shoko’s tongue snaked out of her too-wide mouth. But it looked nothing like a tongue; it was an absolute 
  
    mass 
  
  of writhing tendrils, branching in every direction, oozing liquids Katsumi didn’t even want to 
  
    think 
  
  about. At the center was the biggest one of all, a six-fingered winged thing that looked almost exactly like a Facehugger—and that Katsumi instinctively knew was designed to render her utterly helpless to what the rest of the tendrils would do to her.

  Still nipplef@ck@ng Katsumi with her transformed fingers, Shoko leaned in close to Katsumi’s face, another mouth forming on her shoulder to ensure she could still talk to her erstwhile plaything.

  “I’m gonna have so much 
  
    fun 
  
  designing your mouthpussy,” she teased Katsumi. “I think I’m going to make it 
  
    ribbed, 
  
  so that every time Izuku sticks his c@ck down your throat to shut you up it’ll make you c@m, and the feeling of it will make 
  
    him 
  
  c@m! Ooh, maybe I’ll turn your gag reflex into a G-spot, too, so instead of gagging, you just c@m like a b@tch! And of course, you’ll be able to get pregnant from sucking c@ck now. No escaping it, Kacchan—you exist to have Izuku’s babies now!”

  And with that, the facehugger-looking apparatus at the tip of Shoko’s “tongue” fit itself across Katsumi’s mouth. Katsumi briefly thought about keeping her mouth tightly shut and making Shoko at least have to work for it, but a few tendrils swiftly jabbed into her lips and started to transform 
  
    them, 
  
  plumping them up, making them softer and redder and fuller until she had lovely, delicious d@cksucking lips. Then, something 
  
    clenched 
  
  inside her t@ts, the feeling she recognized as their wombs fully forming, and it felt so incredible that Katsumi couldn’t stop herself from opening her mouth to moan.

  That was all it took. 
  
    Hundreds 
  
  of tendrils rampaged into her mouth, into her throat, jabbing into every single inch of soft pink flesh, writhing down her throat, slipping past every defense and every natural barrier that would soon be removed or transformed. Katsumi’s eyes rolled back as Shoko’s lips met hers in the single most 
  
    deranged 
  
  kiss of all time, even as Katsumi’s mouth and throat began to transform just as Shoko had said they would. She could 
  
    feel 
  
  the raised ridges and bumps forming in her throat, the way the inside of her cheeks thickened and developed the same texture as the walls of her pussy, how her uvula became as sensitive as her cl@t and her gag reflex, just as promised, was turned into a g-spot, a veritable bullseye directly at the back of her throat for Izuku to thrust his c@ck 
  
    straight 
  
  into whenever he felt like she’d done enough talking, and not enough 
  
    c@mm@ng.
  

  Shoko’s eyes were still glowing as her shoulder-mouth declared, “That’s f@ck@ng right, Katsumi. Just stop thinking. You don’t need to worry anymore. You’ll spend the rest of your life pregnant in 
  
    every. F@ck@ng. Hole. 
  
  Just like you should be. Just like you 
  
    deserve 
  
  to be.”

  Katsumi’s only reply was another mind-shattering orgasm. The tendrils were in her stomach now, turning it into her final womb. Her nipples were 
  
    still 
  
  being f@ck@d; her milk was squelching out around the tendrils stretching them open with every move Shoko made, as she put the finishing touches on Katsumi’s milk ducts to ensure she’d always be full, always be leaking, always be well-lubricated and ready to take Izuku’s d@ck in places no dick was ever meant to go.

  Yeah. Maybe Shoko was right. Maybe she didn’t need to think right now. Maybe she should just look forward to getting 
  
    bred 
  
  instead.

  With tentacles in her nipples, her pussy and @ssh@l@ made into fertile breeding grounds, and her mouth turning into a perfect fuckhole with every passing second, Katsumi Bakugo 
  
    came her fucking brains out 
  
  at the hands of an immortal shapeshifting sex alien.

  She would absolutely not be the last girl to suffer such a fate.

  
  

    
      
        
        
          Next time, Izuku finally gets involved.See you then!'
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