omega bakugo

Bakugou Katsuki is aware that he has a certain… reputation.

Hell, apparently the whole world knows he's an asshole.

When he stood up and told the world he was going to win—and he did—they still wanted to act like he was arrogant for telling it like it is, or like he was wrong to be pissed that his main competition threw in the towel mid-battle. When the villains thought he should be on their side it was broadcast to the entire damn world, and interviews with him weren't broadcasted because of his attitude, cutting him out and cutting him off before he could show his strengths.

He's listed as a victim in police reports for some of the biggest shit to go down in the past few years, footage of him drowning in sludge and being captured by the league and causing All Might's fall are all going to follow him forever even into his hero career and it… Well, it pisses him off.

All of those pivotal moments of humiliation and defeat sit eternally in the back of his mind, grating away at his already short temper. It burns through his blood, heart pumping in his ears, desperate to prove himself, desperate to assert himself.

The thing is, for all his reputation, Bakugou is more self-aware than he's ever given credit and smarter than most people want to admit. He knows it's a problem, and he knows everything has fucked him up more than he already was, but he can't shake the fury that rips through him at times. He knows he once lived a pretty charmed life, but everything has gone downhill for him since middle school, everything has stacked against him. Everyone else wants to define him and reshape him, but he is going to remain himself and damn the consequences and he dares anyone to stand in his way.

Battle training? It's the only time he feels free to cut loose all of those feelings—medics on standby if anyone gets in the way, controlled environments where property damage is expected and there aren't civilians around, no cameras feeding every movement back to a world that has already written him off as violent and feral. He can cut loose and really test himself.

Training has been going on for hours, a battle of extreme endurance that each of them understands is to prepare them for death and defeat. Every single hero course student has seen through the thin veneer of pretext and seen what it hides—they're being trained for war, harsh conditions, prolonged battles, scarce resources obscured by growing wreckage, and informal alliances forged on a battlefield.

One by one, the students of Class 1A and 1B have fallen or taken themself off of the field once they surpassed their limits. The battle-inclined Alpha heroes lasted the longest, but in the last hour the finalists have whittled down; Glasses pushed himself to stalling, Dunce Face short-circuited and took out himself along with the Sasquatch of 1B, knockoff Tin Kirishima-Clone was taken out by One for All, Pink Cheeks succumbed to nausea and vertigo after a half hour of dealing with mushroom spores but slammed out of the fight with a meteor attack that took out Big-Fist and Copycat both, and finally it was down to the obvious leaders.

Any idiot could have guessed that it was always going to come down to Bakugou, Icyhot, Kirishima, and fucking Deku.

The final four had fallen into their natural alliances early in the battle, Kirishima keeping to Bakugou's left and giving him a launching point and shield, Icyhot following Deku like a damn puppy. Everyone knew by now that these two duos were going to be endgame long beyond UA. They were destined to be hero partners, run hero agencies together, and start packs together.

They had already instinctively collected around them subordinate Alphas and Betas that would follow their lead, all they needed was to decide on an Omega to share between them and make it official. Everyone can see it. Kirishima is Bakugou's second, the only Alpha he trusts implicitly despite his vicious response to other Alphas, and Icyhot is Deku's natural second much to Endeavor's annoyance. It's not something Bakugou wants to think about right now, though. A problem for tomorrow.

But the battle is coming to a close soon and those alliances won't be able to hold when only one of them can come out the winner. And it infuriates Bakugou that he can foresee the final outcome of the fight.

He sees it in his peripheral—green energy and steel-toed sneakers throw sparks off granite, an unstoppable force wearing down an immovable object as Kirishima digs elongated stone fingers into support gear and muscle and tries to create a weakness and negate the advantage of Deku's speed in battle by keeping him close. Fists that can punch through concrete smash into his stony jaw as he hardens further to brace for it. With a deafening crash, the nerd's free foot slams into Kirishima's chest, the power of One for All and endurance of Unbreakable gouging a rift in the earth behind them both as asphalt roadways give before either of the grappling heroes do.

Kirishima is eternally conscious of his weaknesses and knows that Midoriya has the stronger quirk and is the more dominant Alpha of the two of them. He's not expecting to win this face-off with Deku, he is dragging their battle out to improve Bakugou's chances of winning in the end and to give him time to keep it from being a two-on-one at the end. That leaves Todoroki to Bakugou.

Icyhot is flagging; extended temperature regulation is a bitch and Bakugou knows that as well as anyone outside of the dysfunctional as fuck Todoroki family can. Bakugou though has long since worked up a sweat and then gone past it, pushing himself to the limits of dehydration. Sweat cools the body down, and without enough water left in him to produce it in the quantities he needs, Bakugou is overheating. He's parched, skin of his hands chapped and muscles overtaxed, and even his gauntlets are depleting after hours of nonstop extended battle. And Icyhot, gullible moron that he might be in social issues, isn't actually stupid: he understands tactics nearly as well as Bakugou does. Early in a battle against Bakugou he might start with ice to try and make it harder for him to work up a sweat, but now he's an absolute furnace. With each blast of fire, it's clear the half-and-half bastard is trying to exploit a weakness with his attacks.

"You're tapped out, Dynamight."

Trying to imply he was weak.

Bakugou is shaking with rage, edges of his vision dark, entire body quaking with the madness that has leaves him gnashing his teeth, clawing as much as grappling, his entire body refusing to just roll over and let some other Alpha…

The crowd is watching. His idol, his middle school friends, the heroes he looked up to, strangers off the street, and even fucking Deku, watching him be humiliated, watching him be…

Let some Alpha…

He lost focus. Ice slams out in a rippling wave, encasing every limb, crawling up his jaw to stop his profanities, holding him immobilized and covered head to toe in…

Slime holds him immobile, spreads across his skin, beneath his clothes, presses into flesh…

The explosion rips through him violently, slamming from hands that spasm as drained-dry gauntlets shatter into superheated shrapnel.

And Deku, fucking Deku of all people, gets in his way every damn step of the way.

"Kacchan! Stay down! " The gloves that slam into his midsection are a blur of white and green, but Bakugou hasn't ever backed down from a fight in his life and he damn sure wouldn't be starting today.

No use fighting, you're already opening right up for me. I got something you're going to love, kid.

Except when he goes to shove himself up from the ground, he can't. It's not that his limbs tremble, his body just won't respond to his mind at all. The words resonate in his mind, echoing, a command he can't resist at all, his entire body going slack as he tumbles down to the rubble at Deku's command.

The whirring of one of the security drones feeding the footage of this fight back to the teachers and fallen students has Bakugou flinching, even as everything goes dark.

Smile for the cameras, bitch.

Bakugou's eyes roll back as he slumps to the ground, only vaguely aware of the commotion that kicks up around him.

The whir of the glossy black eye of the camera zooming in spurs a panic that startles Bakugou back into action, sending him thrashing against the gelatinous bonds that hold him.

He drifts in and out from there, fever racking his body, scrambling his thoughts. He can see Deku, panicked but determined, one minute in green and black, the next in black throwing a yellow backpack. One moment he's gasping, throwing himself back away from Recovery Girl's dry lips, and the next he's suffocating.

He's dressed in his tattered costume and being strapped to a gurney, and then he's nude in a cold room, still unable to spark a single blast. And then he's suffocating again, trapped again. Thrashing and biting only results in silicone prying his teeth open, pressing far too deep, filling his mouth and tickling the back of his throat as it presses down on his tongue. A heavy weight settles around his head, pressing against his temples, holding the gag in place, padded headphones muffling his ears, a visor taking away his view of the room. Clawing results in his hands being clipped together at the small of his back. Kicking has his ankles encased in leather shackles, then clipped to a band that cinches his thighs, leaving him splayed open like a frog.

He's held open, exposed, unable to move as a familiar voice fills his ears again through the headphones, as light blazes to life from the visor over his eyes.

What a useless little cock, getting this hard from being raped. Bet you've never even popped a knot, huh. And now you never will.

There's a sharp, sudden pain between his legs, like a needle stabbed into his perineum. Two more, stabbed into his pecs. Another, jabbed into his abs. Heat floods his veins, and then he's hoisted upright, suspended, encased, and surrounded.

Sticky sweet viscous liquid floods his mouth and down his throat from the silicone cock wedged between his teeth. And then pressure, frog-tied legs held wide as his body yields too easily to a thrust that impales him in place.

Bakugou's eyes fly open as he tries to scream, and the only thing he can see is the image projected into the visor. Sludge. Gathered heroes. Every camera pointed his way as he's secretly destroyed.

All of Japan is gonna watch you get fucking wrecked.

Reality and memory blur. Everything blurs but the tendrils within him that widen and lengthen, a constant undulating pressure that scrambles his mind, stretches his hole, strains his jaw, and floods him from both ends with too-thick liquid.

Take it all, slut. I'm gonna fill you up, pump all of me into this little cunt, keep you full of me for the rest of your life.

No. No, he can't be back here.

This is all you're good for now, bitch.

Ω Ω Ω Ω

It's been a little over two hours since Recovery Girl gravely turned Katsuki over to the medical team that rushed to the site, the aging healer completely close-lipped about what was happening. She claimed Doctor-patient privilege when everyone pushed for answers.

Two hours since the ambulance picked up Katsuki, Izuku shoving his way forward to climb into the back with him, Alpha-scent flaring out as if daring anyone to try and stop him.

Two hours since they wheeled Katsuki through a nondescript door, leaving Izuku pacing a waiting room—no classmates, no teachers, no windows, just a featureless room that raises his metaphorical hackles. Kirishima's text buzzed him an hour in, a request to send his location and a promise to be there as soon as the dorms went quiet and he could sneak out. Curfew be damned, Kirishima was going to be at his best friend's side. The rules had never held him back from that promise before, and never would.

But at the two-hour mark, it's only just reaching the curfew for students and a doctor is stepping through the reinforced door towards the medical ward, eyes seeking him out from behind thick round lenses that catch the light, obscuring his eyes.

"Midoriya, I presume?"

The doctor looks vaguely familiar, but Izuku has been in and out of hospitals since he took on All Might's quirk, and has worked alongside doctors in the field since his first internship. He's to the doctor's side with an unnatural speed, trying to look past him toward the hall behind him.

"Yes. I'm… that's me. Is Kacchan…?"

"Your 'Kacchan' is stable now." There's a faint curl to the doctor's lips at the nickname that in any other situation might have caught Izuku's eye, but it's his next words that capture his attention instead. "Unfortunately the situation is delicate. I believe you may be able to help us ensure that he stops fighting the treatment."

It makes complete sense to him that Katsuki is fighting whatever treatment he needs, too proud by far to accept help. But the way he went completely limp, the way his body was feverish after the fight, the way he writhed even unconscious as he was, is all burned into Izuku's mind. Somehow Izuku knows it's his fault—he couldn't say why, doesn't know what it means, but it doesn't feel like the usual misplaced guilt. It feels real. And he will do anything to help Kacchan now.

"Let's discuss what happened first, shall we? And what needs to happen next."

He follows the doctor into an office where he's instructed to take a seat, leg bouncing as he looks around as if Katsuki will suddenly appear. The office is nondescript, gray, the wide windows behind the doctor's desk covered with thick red curtains that block any view of the night sky and a large monitor mounted to the side, displaying digital full-body CAT scan images that Izuku doesn't know how to interpret beyond Katsuki's name stamped on the bottom. When the doctor settles into the seat behind the desk, Izuku rips his eyes away from the screen to look at him. The doctor looks grave as he considers Izuku for a long moment.

"I have been the Bakugou family doctor for some years now, and I have obtained permission from his mother to disclose what I am about to tell you because I feel you may be his best chance at pulling through."

A fan kicks in in the room, and for a moment it is the only sound as Izuku stares at the doctor wide-eyed in concern. "Is he…?"

"Midoriya, what I am going to say and show you today is going to upset you. I want you to understand though that everything young Bakugou is going through is related to a traumatic event from some time ago. There is a video of the event that will likely disturb you. It disturbed me when it was sent to me anonymously, and it confirmed a diagnosis I gave him after the incident."

Izuku turns as the doctor raises a remote control and aims it at the screen.

Ω Ω Ω Ω

You love this. You need to be fucked. You're a bitch. This is all you're for.

Katsuki doesn't notice the gradual change in the timbre of the voice whispering in his ears. All he knows is the words, the vision that he can't blink and look away from, the constant stimulation of being fucked.

Submit.

Katsuki tries to toss his head, to escape the voice and the image of himself in the reflection of the cameras and the eyes of the onlookers, Humiliation burns through him as his body thrashes, barely hidden by slime, mouth wedged wide as his throat is fucked relentlessly. He wants free, needs to get away, but he can't think… he can't…

His quirk fires off again, sweat dripping down his brow into the sludge around him and igniting. One by one, the heroes around him turn away as the villain rampages, each movement rocking him on the cock filling him. One by one, every hero abandons him to the monster fucking him open.

Look at them. These were your heroes, weren't they? They know what you are now.

He'd hoped… when the villain started, he'd hoped the heroes would come for him. Now he knows no one will. All he has now is the voice of the sludge villain crooning in his ear, and the constant stimulation that has his body traitorously failing him.

You are my bitch now. Bitches come on the cocks of their alphas. So cum, bitch. Now.

The orgasm that rips through him would be painful even if there weren't a tendril fucking in and out of his erect cli… no, his dick. Not a clit. Not…

He convulses, cunt… no, hole… tightening around the length within him, slick gushing out of him, betraying him, forced out with every push of the tendril that is prying him open deep and pumping drugged lubricant into him that is thick with synthetic pheromones.

You love this. Look at yourself. Watch what a needy slut you are for this.

He can see it happening now in a way he couldn't then. The slime villain is translucent before his eyes now in the reflection of the cameras, broadcasted as he drools and lets himself be moved. He's fucked relentlessly in front of the entire crowd, the entire country. He knows it didn't happen this way, but the humiliation only makes the orgasm more intense as his stomach distends with cum. He can't shy away from the way their eyes stare at him as he is bounced and pushed and fucked by the tendrils in his wide-stretched mouth, his dripping cunt, his now-useless cock.

They can all see how much you love to be filled. You need this. It hurts to be empty. You need your cunt filled. Submit.

He's so full. So hot, burning with fever and need and humiliation. He keens, the sound gurgling around the thick liquid pouring down his throat, and a scent begins flooding his senses from the cannula that keeps him breathing even as his throat is wrecked. His senses are flooded by the distilled scent of anger and arousal and alpha, eyes rolling back as the commands leave him unable to resist. He remembers this, remembers the self-loathing that rolled over him pointing out that he wasn't even sure he wanted it to stop. He's back in that now, and he knows that...

You want this.

An orgasm rips through Katsuki again with the burn of overstimulation but not a hint of satisfaction. He goes limp with a whine, held only by the bondage and the cock that impales him, accepting every thrust, every gush of cum, head tipped back in submission as the scent of alpha arousal clouds every thought.

You need more. Submit to your alphas.

The voice has changed completely now, familiar and impossible to ignore. It changes everything, and blurs away memory until all that matters is now.

That's it, Kacchan. Submit to your alphas.

Ω Ω Ω

On the monitor, a younger Katsuki is encased in the sludge villain, choking on it as he screams in impotent rage. A news ticker across the bottom half of the screen, All Might's gaunt face visible in the crowd, the push of Midoriya's stunted middle school body trying to get closer to the scene.

"I remember this," Izuku mutters impatiently, looking at the doctor with growing frustration. He doesn't know why this is being dragged out. He wants to see Kacchan. He swears he can smell him from here, the distress that turns the caramel scent of him into burnt-sugar. It's filling his head, and it's taking everything in him now to wait. "Why are you showing me this? I was there."

"I am showing you this because you were there, young Midoriya. There was far more to this situation than you could see." Folding his hands on the desk, the doctor fixes Izuku with a stern gaze. He's unmoved by the Alpha scent Izuku is putting out, his own scent completely blocked by patches so that all that remains is Izuku, and the only thing keeping the scent from being oppressive the exhaust fan pulling his scent away, redirecting it. "This encounter is the source of Katsuki's emotional, physical and mental imbalance, and I fear you are more closely tied to this than you realize."

On the screen, a younger Izuku charges, lashing out with his backpack, trying to rip Katsuki away from the sludge that encases him.

"You see, you directly challenged the villain over young Katsuki while he was being assaulted in ways you did not recognize. I am going to change the video now—this next clip was originally submitted to the police and the incident was reported to me as Bakugou's doctor Due to a hacking incident at the police station, the video was downloaded by the hackers, and has recently circulated the dark web. The original footage was taken by a reporter with a truly unique quirk, but suppressed to preserve the dignity of young Bakugou. I regret to tell you that this has been edited since then to add additional graphics. I fear that hundreds of unsavory figures must have seen it by now…"

Izuku is about to interrupt, to demand that the doctor get to the point. He's been driven past any patience or his usually kind demeanor by the scent of Bakugou's distress. Then the remote clicks again, and he can no longer look away.

To an extent, the image is the same and the scene is the same.

But past the crush of the crowd, past the violent rampage of the villain, the quirk of a reporter focuses on the sludge villain and then through the villain, through the crowd, focused solely on what his story will be about as his quirk transforms what he sees to video. He doubtless wanted to know about the kidnapped teenager, to see if he was alive, and what state he was in. The reporter caught far more than that as he focused on Bakugou singularly.

Bakugou who is visible head to toe as though the villain himself has turned semi-transparent with the aid of the reporter's quirk. Bakugou, encased in slime, mouth forced wide behind the grinning and taunting mouth of the villain and body unnaturally positioned deep within the villain's sludge form. Bakugou, writhing as tendrils twist and move beneath the fabric of his school uniform.

The reporter blinks and the image refocuses, driven by concern, and then even that flimsy barrier of fabric is gone, the boy's clothing similarly translucent, and beyond that the writhing shadows behind his skin in focus.

"You see, young Bakugou was being bitched in front of the eyes of all of Japan."

Sludge gushes deep into Katsuki, pumped directly down his throat, deep into his stomach, fucking into him relentlessly as he stays suspended within the villain. He's weakly fighting, pops of explosions the way Izuku remembers, before his entire body lurches, the thick tendril thrusting into his ass slamming inwards again all at once.

"The process of transforming even a juvenile Alpha into an Omega usually takes days, if not weeks, of near-constant domination and insemination by more than one Alpha. But the circumstances for young Bakugou were…"

The Katsuki on the screen convulses, eyes rolling back, and the sludge wrapped around his cock tightens and squeezes and pulses as Katsuki cums into the ooze around him.

The video dings, drawing Izuku's attention briefly as a counter begins, apparently put there by villains for the benefit of the dark web. A crude hentai-style drawing of Katsuki with his eyes rolled back and tongue lolling out in a cartoonish ahegao flashes up next to a counter: Cumslut Cumshot - 1. On the other side of the screen, a constantly updating number shows an estimate of how much sludge-like cum Katsuki has had pumped into his ass and mouth, and at the top corner of the video a high-contrast square shows a zoomed-in close-up just of Katsuki's clenching hole as it's forced obscenely wide around the sludge raping it open, the graphic offering an estimate of the width of the tendril at any point.

As Izuku takes in every humiliating game-show-style addition on the screen, the video dings again as the ahegao cartoon adds another number to its counter. On the screen, Katsuki tries to kick out uselessly, eyes rolling back and body stiffening in shock and overstimulation as more cum is fucked out of him by constant undulating pressure against his prostate caused by every movement of the villain around him. His toes curl and his throat bobs as he instinctively suckles at the sludge fucking his throat as he's forced into another climax, back arching within the fluid hold of the sludge. This time the villain isn't even paying Katsuki complete attention, busy terrorizing the civilians, simply using Katsuki as a cum dump and cock warmer. Katsuki cumming is incidental, not the villain's goal.

"The circumstances for your Kacchan were extra-ordinary. Despite what this video shows…" the villain's attention clearly goes back to his victim as a pencil-sized tendril begins fucking in and out of Kacchan's cock as if to mock him for cumming all on his own. It's only a moment later that the screen dings and the counter goes up again based on how Katsuki squeezes and pulses around the tendrils fucking into his hole, consecutive orgasms bleeding into each other now that he's coming only from his cunt. "…He was likely raped for hours before the villain was ever cornered. It's not the quantity of ejaculate that triggers the turn, though. There are of course Alphas who enjoy anal stimulation and intercourse without ever changing dynamics, after all. But your Kacchan succumbed very quickly to the change, as if..."

As if he was made to be a bitch.

Izuku is too focused on the image of his Kacchan being fucked relentlessly, anger and jealousy and arousal burning beneath his skin, unaware that the scent is being filtered away directly to the bitched Omega through the cannula feeding him oxygen. Izuku's mind is similarly fogged by Katsuki's fucked out, aroused scent filling the entire office through the air vent directly above him, tainted though it is with a faint chemical smell of the drugs he's huffing in with that scent, lowering his own inhibitions. Unaware that the doctor's demeanor has shifted, shrewd, the vulgarity creeping into his words to plant seeds for Izuku's Alpha hindbrain to nurture.

Katsuki is calling out for him in the video, telling him to get away, but the sludge cock fucks back down his throat, the tendril in his ass thickens into a semblance of a knot, and the screen dings again as his eyes roll back, body writhing, splayed open for cock and cumming again only inches away from where Izuku is trying to claw him free, hands popping with sparks and a moan ripping through him. Izuku thought at the moment that it was from pain, but here's the proof that Kacchan was far from in agony. Now, seeing this, he recognizes the whoreish sounds for what they are.

"By this point, your Kacchan certainly can't be called an Alpha anymore. See how he's milking that knot with his cunt..?" Izuku can see, pupils dilated wide as he stares at the clutch of Katsuki's hole around the fist-sized mass, pulsing around the unnatural cock within him. On the screen, the sludge villain is moving Katsuki, thighs spread wide and knees pulled back by his ears, uniform pants and boxers tugged down just beneath his ass to give the villain more room to move, body canted to angle his hole at the cameras, threatening to show him like that to all of the surrounding crowd and heroes. He's animalistically fucking Katsuki, crowing in his victory over the heroes and over the bitch in his clutches as Katsuki surrenders completely. The villain's sludge cock keeps thinning and widening, knotting and unknotting the new bitch just to toy with him, just to keep him cumming and crying and writhing with pleasure.

Kacchan was so close to where Izuku was clawing at the sludge. Close enough that if he'd dug further, he would have been shoving his hand right into the cock breaking Kacchan open, helping to knot him. The rut trigger misting in the air, hidden in Kacchan's scent, makes Izuku want that desperately. Now the eyes that had pleaded with him seem as if they were begging Izuku to take over fucking him. "Your Kacchan took to his role as a bitch so naturally. And there you are. An Alpha challenging the Alpha who knot-broke and dominated him into complete submission."

The screen dings again as Kacchan's ass greedily pushes back against the cock within him, before his hips jerk forward toward Izuku, and he was right there. He's touching in the video, fingers skating along Bakugou's spread-open ass—he didn't know. He couldn't see what he was touching, just that he couldn't get a grip on the other boy. All the while, Kacchan was fucking himself back onto the cock raping him open and sucking the cock down his throat as he climaxed again and again.

All Might bursts onto the scene to comedic booing sound effects dubbed over the video.

"But right here. In the bitch's mind and instincts… you fought his new mate and then rejected him by not claiming him in front of everyone. Watch how he presents for his new Alpha."

As the sludge around Bakugou is ripped away, he collapses forward onto his hands and knees to cough out what he can of the sludge-cum in his mouth, in practically perfect Omega presentation right next to Izuku, who like the rest of the crowd has eyes only for his hero as the whirlwind kicks up around them. Hidden from the crowd by smoke and rain, but not from the seeing eyes of the reporter, the unnaturally thick knot up his ass stays, a plug that keeps his stomach distended beneath the baggy pants and oversized shirt that barely maintain his modesty. The assault is over, but Kacchan remains stuffed full of the villain's cum, on his knees, perfectly positioned for Izuku to fuck… and he missed it.

"It took three hours for the family to reach my offices after the attack and the police interviews, all the while he was still full of that villain's cum and too proud to admit it to his parents or the heroes. Because he was left that way, the plug solidified and I couldn't get it free without damaging him. I had to keep him here as he went into a presentation heat in this very building and came over and over again rocking on that knot. In his fever he begged for you. In his mind, you are his Alpha. He could not resist an Alpha command from you, and it thrust him right back into heat. Though I fear your rejection of him has stunted his physical development and left him deeply hormonally unstable, too damaged to be a proper mate..."

On the screen, the dark web version is doing slow-motion replays of every orgasm, every fucked out expression, every time he bounced back on the cock within him. On-screen commentary lewdly claims he'll be the best little cock-slut hero for the first villain to put a dick in him, practically daring one to use the bitch, since the League unknowingly let the opportunity pass them by. There's even a side-by-side of Katsuki bound on the UA sports festival podium next to a clip of him writhing within the villain, displaying how he seems to be begging someone to tie him up and fuck him stupid in front of everyone again, to humiliate him, to knot-break him until he'll bend over for any Alpha to look at him.

"It has become a psychological and physiological stumbling point. The development of his womb, his scent glands, his unbalanced hormones, rejection syndrome, the conflict between the Alpha that he thinks he should be and the Omega he is now… he needs to be knotted, dominated, and subjected to Alpha hormones through repeated insemination for the transformation to complete, but he's trapped in a rejection cycle and half-presentation. There is no way for him to revert back to being an Alpha, he can only suffer unclaimed as a bitched Omega. The only solution to the problem was to recreate the scene for young Bakugou, to prime his mind to accept an Alpha's claim by putting him right back into the moment he was bitched and then rejected…"

With a whir, the curtain behind the desk pulls back.

Eyes blazing green, Izuku turns to take in the scene before him.

Katsuki is bound, mouth wedged wide by a clear silicone cock down his throat, letting Izuku see every gush into his waiting, drooling mouth, keeping him hydrated following the dehydration of training by making him guzzle what he clearly thinks is cum. Beneath, a hollow pencil-sized sound is plugged into his hard little cock that is so diminished from what it was before, impotent clear cum dribbling out and puddling beneath him on the floor to join the overflowing simulated sludge and the Omega slick that Izuku can smell now. As he was at the end of the video, Kacchan is tilted at just the right angle for Izuku to see beneath his hairless Omega balls, each reduced to the size of quail eggs since his bitching, to where a dildo ruthlessly fucks into his hole, punching into him deep enough to deform the abs he's so proud of with every thrust in.

The visor across his eyes is one-way glass and carmine eyes watch the video of himself being fucked, transfixed as he's immersed in the moment, suspended in it, fucked and conditioned with the sludge villain's voice and then Izuku's voice and scent for the last two hours. It's left him restless, struggling again however exhaustedly, as if he can rip his way out of bondage as he'd tried futilely to pull away from the sludge villain.

The injected drugs and ingested aphrodisiacs have done their job: Katsuki Bakugou has been completely overtaken by his heat, insatiable and insensate and reduced to the most base instincts of his new nature—a feral, needy, desperate slut trying to get to the Alpha who's scent has overlaid his own, but begging to be fucked by any Alpha who can take him. Studying how much of that conditioning will keep once he's released back into the wild is an experiment that the doctor thrills at tracking now that he's the doctor of record for the boy again.

A medical device nearby dings cheerily in mimicry of the video as Katsuki climaxes again, cock dribbling cum, hole gushing slick. He hisses in Omega distress at not being given the knot he needs now, but the dildo is programmed to only fuck into him harder when his cunt tightens around it.

"I believe you will find your Kacchan is waiting for you to rescue him again, and to do it right this time."

Izuku is gone from the room in a flash of green lightning, not there to register when the doctor buzzes for the next guest to be brought back.