Chapter 1: Explosive Training Grounds
The air in the UA training grounds tasted like dirt and ozone. Kalen wiped the sweat from his brow, his dark eyes scanning the tree line. From a clearing deeper in the woods came a low, rhythmic groaning, the sound of someone being filled to absolute capacity. It was just background noise here, as common as the thud of fists on training dummies.
He was adjusting the strap on his tank top when a blistering heat exploded at his back.
The impact wasn’t pain, not exactly. It was a concussive wave of force that lifted him off his feet and sent him ploughing a furrow through the dry earth. Dust and leaves filled his mouth. Before he could even cough, a weight descended on him—solid, immovable, and radiating a predatory heat.
“Got you.”
Bakugo’s voice was a growl against the shell of his ear. Kalen’s face was pressed into the dirt, the smell of burnt sugar and aggression thick in his nose. He struggled, pushing back with his hands, but Bakugo’s muscular frame pinned him effortlessly. One of the hero’s massive knees wedged between Kalen’s thighs, forcing them apart.
“This wasn’t the drill,” Kalen gasped, spitting out soil.
“Drill’s over.” Bakugo’s hand, rough and calloused, shoved the waistband of Kalen’s shorts down. The exposed air felt cold for a second before being replaced by the searing presence of Bakugo’s cock, already fully erect and leaking a sizzling, pre-cum that sparked against Kalen’s skin.
There was no preamble, no gentle stretch. Bakugo sheathed himself in one brutal, claiming thrust.
Kalen’s back arched, a choked cry tearing from his throat. The stretch was monumental, a burning fullness that stole his breath. Bakugo didn’t wait for him to adjust. He set a punishing rhythm immediately, each snap of his hips driving Kalen deeper into the ground. The slap of skin was obscenely loud, competing with the distant sounds of training.
“Fuck—Bakugo—” Kalen managed, his fingers clawing at the roots in the dirt.
“Shut up and take it,” Bakugo snarled, his breath hot. He leaned down, his chest pressing against Kalen’s back. “I’ve been watching you all day. Waddling around with that fat ass. You were begging for this.”
It was true. Kalen could feel his own body responding instantly, his own colossal length hardening painfully beneath him, trapped against the earth. His balls, already heavy and full, tightened in anticipation. The sensation of being so completely dominated, so used, sent electric sparks straight to his core. This was what he craved beneath the easy submissions—a force that could match, and overwhelm, the volatile power of his own biology.
Bakugo’s pace became erratic, frantic. His grip on Kalen’s hips was iron, sure to leave bruises. “Gonna fill you up,” he grunted, each word punched out with a thrust. “Gonna pump you so full you’ll look like a goddamn parade float. See if you can walk after I’m done.”
Kalen felt it building—not just his own orgasm, but the unique, crackling heat of Bakugo’s release. A popping, sizzling sensation began to bloom deep inside him, spreading like carbonation fizzing through his veins.
Bakugo stiffened, a raw, guttural roar tearing from his throat as he slammed in one final time and held.
The world went white behind Kalen’s eyes. It wasn’t just cum; it was a live-wire torrent, hot and effervescent, pumping into him with such violent pressure it felt like being inflated by a firehose. He could feel himself expanding, the tight plane of his stomach pushing outward, distending against the cool earth.
Bakugo kept pulsing, groaning with the effort, until Kalen was lifted slightly off the ground by the sheer volume, his back no longer touching dirt but balanced on the ballooning globe of his own belly. The skin was taut, shiny, humming with the weird, explosive energy of Bakugo’s seed. It had to be hundreds of shots, maybe thousands, a litter’s worth in a single, devastating load.
Finally, Bakugo stilled, spent. He slumped over Kalen’s back, both of them breathing in ragged, broken synchronicity. His softening cock slipped out with a wet, messy sound, followed by a gush of excess cum that soaked the dirt.
For a long minute, there was only the sound of their breathing and the distant thump-thump-thump from another clearing.
Bakugo shifted, his hand coming around to splay possessively over the massive curve of Kalen’s stomach. He gave it a rough, appreciative squeeze, making Kalen jolt. “Damn,” he muttered, his voice husky. “Look at that. Told you.”
Kalen couldn’t see it, but he could feel it. The incredible weight. The subtle, crackling pops inside him as the volatile cum did its work. He felt stupefied, bloated, and profoundly, deeply satisfied. His own untouched cock throbbed in protest beneath him, but the fullness was a different, more consuming pleasure.
“They’re gonna see,” Kalen mumbled, his cheek still in the dirt.
“Let ‘em see,” Bakugo said, no trace of shame. He rolled off, lying on his back in the grass beside Kalen’s inflated form. The hero’s own magnificent ass, wide and muscular, was now even more pronounced, the curves subtly fuller. Kalen’s latent ability was already working, the enhancement a silent transfer between them. Bakugo’s balls, already impressively large, looked heavier, their low hang more pronounced against his thigh.
Kalen groaned, trying to heave himself up. It was like rolling a boulder. He got to his side, then to a sitting position, his enormous belly resting on his thighs. He looked down at himself. He was the size of a small car, his skin stretched so thin he could see the swirling, golden light of Bakugo’s potent cum inside him. He poked it, and a faint sizzle met his fingertip.
“How many, you think?” Kalen asked casually, as if asking about the weather.
Bakugo sat up, scrutinizing the sheer volume. “Four hundred. Easy.” A fierce, proud grin split his face. “Might be a record. You’ll be dropping them in a month.”
Kalen just nodded. The Infant Care Facility would be busy. He felt the familiar, comforting detachment. They were a contribution, a biological function fulfilled. The pleasure was in the making, not the keeping.
He concentrated for a moment, feeling the chaotic energy inside him. He could degrade it, force the inflation down, return to normal in an hour. But he didn’t want to. He loved the feeling. He let the pressure be.
“Help me up,” he said, extending a hand.
Bakugo stood, his enhanced form even more imposing. He hauled Kalen to his feet with a grunt. Kalen wobbled, the incredible weight shifting his center of gravity. He had to stand with his legs wide, hands supporting the underswell of his stomach.
Bakugo looked him up and down, crimson eyes blazing with a possessiveness that went beyond the moment. “You’re coming back to my dorm. I’m not done. That’s just the first round.”
Kalen met his gaze, a slow smile spreading on his own face. The submission was still there, but under it, a spark of challenge. His body was humming, already craving more, already preparing another mammoth load of his own. “Your room’s too small for this,” he said, patting his belly.
“Then we’ll break the wall,” Bakugo stated, as if it were obvious. He turned and started walking toward the campus, not checking to see if Kalen followed.
Kalen took a slow, heavy step. Then another. The path ahead was long, and he moved with a ponderous, swaying gait. Students training nearby glanced over, unconcerned. One gave a low whistle of appreciation at the size of the inflation. Kalen ignored them, his eyes fixed on Bakugo’s retreating back, on the powerful swing of his newly-enhanced ass, feeling the chaotic, bubbling future kick inside him.