Chapter 417 - My SI Stash #17 - Welcome to My (Hero) Parlor by Amazon Climber (MHA)

-Oh we got a SI!Masseur? Banger.

Synopsis: ???

Rated: M

Words: 36K

Posted on: forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/welcome-to-my-hero-parlor-mha-p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.e-oc.13268/ (Amazon Climber)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

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Chapter 1-2 (exceptional)

"Ah, excuse me."

The young man looked up from the reception desk, a hint of puzzlement on about half his face. He didn't have any appointments for a couple of hours; a walk in already? That's a good sign. Then he saw the mop of unruly green hair lining an adorable face with gentle features and large green eyes. Oh, hey, that's unexpected, he thought. He then stood, pushing a smile onto his face, and gently bowed his head.

"Welcome to my humble parlor. How can I serve you?"

"Ah," the young woman started, before her face lit up with an adorable blush as she realized she was talking to a moderately attractive young man. She stuttered for a moment, then managed to stammer "I- your s-sign... You're, um, you're a Quirk therapist?"

Oh no, he thought, a slight sinking feeling in his chest. She has no idea what she's in for. Well, best to clear things up now so he doesn't scare her too badly, then maybe he can salvage this. "Yes, that's correct. But-"

"But you're so young," she exclaimed, then - somehow - managed to go even redder.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," he said, not pointing out that she had little room to talk; he was three years her senior, after all. "Anyway, miss..." he continued, as if he didn't already know how to address her.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, and bowed her head. "Midoriya Ikuko. N-nice to meet you!"

"Yamada Taro." At her incredulous look, he rolled his eyes - not that she'd notice. "Yes, really. Someone has to be. Anyway, Midoriya-san, I'm afraid you might be a little confused as to what services I actually provide."

"Um," she began, "Are you- can you not help me get my Quirk under control? Because the last time I used it, I broke my arm and both legs, and I'm about to start at UA, and..."

He sighed, and decided to interrupt her runaway train of thought before it could build up too much steam. "Yes, that's absolutely something I can help you with. But-" he held a hand up at her excited expression, bringing whatever was next to a stop.

"Look, I'm just going to come out and say it. Are you familiar with the concept of a Soapland? Happy Ending?" He huffed at her blank look. "Okay then. Yes, I'm a Quirk therapist. But that's only incidental. As a matter of fact, I'm a p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.e."

It clearly took a few seconds for her brain to process exactly what he had just said. Then the stammering began, and it took a full minute before she was able to spit out something that sounded like a question. Exactly what she was asking, he didn't know, but he could hazard a guess.

"The law's a funny thing sometimes," he began. "Selling s.e.x for money? That's a pretty serious crime. But you know what isn't a crime?" Taking her sputtering as a no, he continued, "Selling a massage, and then deciding to have s.e.x with your client after you get to know each other. Or, in my case, selling my services as a Quirk therapist, and then using my Quirk, Tantric Empowerment, to help the process."

She managed to mutter something that sounded vaguely like "Tantric Empowerment?"

"Oh, it's an amazing Quirk," Taro said with a smile. He really was proud of how potent it'd turned out to be. "It's a workout regimen, an internship, and a Quirk training program all rolled into one and hyper-condensed. I can even focus it, giving you - for example - all the benefits in Quirk training."

Her pupils widened a bit, making her gape-mouthed expression look less horrified and more shocked. "Of course, like the name implies, it's a s.e.x Quirk." And there's the horror again.

Taro rubbed the back of his head, and lowered his gaze a bit. Hopefully this will get easier with time, he thought. "So, yeah," he continued, "it requires me to have s.e.x with the person I'm giving the benefits to. And as it turns out, most of my clients so far are more interested in that than the Quirk itself. I'm hoping that'll change as I get more word of mouth, but..."

Ikuko was looking down at the floor, teeth clenched and eyes shaking. Taro sighed, and sat back down.

"Look," he said, "this clearly isn't what you were looking for. I've got a couple of legitimate contacts, maybe..."

"I want to do it," she said.

Taro blinked, not sure if he heard her right.

"Your Quirk," she asked, voice quivering, "it's really that effective?"

"Absolutely. Lying about something like that is way more illegal than prostitution."

Ikuko took a deep breath. "Then I want to do it. If... if something like... that... will help me regulate the power of my Quirk," she said, a look of determination crossing her face as her eyes shined with tears, "then I'll do it. If I can't even take that step, how can I call myself a hero?"

Ah, Taro thought, Izuku or Ikuko, she's still the same little self-sacrificing cinnamon bun.

"In that case," he said, taking out a receipt book, "were you planning on paying in cash today?"

——

Taro gently knocked on the door, and asked "are you ready for me?" Hearing a stammered affirmative, he opened the door to the massage room. Ikuko lay face down on the table in the center, trembling but completely nude. She had a farmer's tan; for some reason, he didn't expect that. Months of working in the sun had left arms and neck dark but the rest of her a warm pale hue. What he was expecting - anticipating, even - were the bulky muscles defining her form. She was no All-Might, and thank God for that, but ten months of high intensity training had given her a more impressive set than most men, let alone women. He took a moment to particularly admire her thick calves and pert ass; the fact that it let the subtle scent of his Pheromone Quirk spread through the room was a welcome side effect. Satisfied, he then rubbed his hands together. A thick gel began to form between his palms, almost but not quite the consistency of a high quality lotion. Of course, a lotion wouldn't have the aphrodisiac properties his gel - f.u.c.k the name it gave itself, he refused to call it Mucus - would, so it was worth the trade off.

His firm hands gently pressed into Ikuko's shoulder blades, then slowly slid down her back. As they glided across her, he marveled both at the strength he could feel even with them mostly relaxed, but also the mass of knots she'd developed.

"Midoriya-san," he asked, "when's the last time you had a massage?" He tisked at the awkward silence he received in reply.

He transitioned from caressing her muscles to kneading them, slowly breaking up the acc.u.mulated mass of steel cables she'd apparently converted her back and shoulders into. As he sank his fingers into her, he could hear her gasps and whimpers slowly taking on a more sultry tone. By the time he began to work on her legs, she was holding back m.o.a.ns; as his fingers worked into her springy buttocks, she stopped trying to hold them back.

Satisfied with his work, his fingers traced beneath her cheeks, feather-light touches making her wriggle and writhe. Her legs parted just a little, revealing a thatch of dark green that had begun to glisten with wetness. Tentatively he slid a finger between her lips, and while she jolted at the unexpected sensation, she didn't pull away. He continued stroking the silky folds between her outer labia, feeling her start to move her h.i.p.s against his hand. Her breath hitched, and she started to pant. Gently, he began running his other fingers along her outer lips, and was rewarded with a m.o.a.ning gasp of unmistakable pleasure. Then, before things could come to a head, he pulled his hand away, and gently patted her ass. Her frustrated mewl was music to his ears.

"Would you mind turning over?" he asked, and after a couple shuddering breaths, Ikuko pressed up to one side, then laid on her back. Everything from face to clavicle were tomato red, but the look in her eyes made it clear she wasn't planning on backing down now. Again Taro admired her, tracing the musculature of her stomach, and marveled at the definition he could feel. He then looked up at her face, and seeing a hint of discomfort at the admiration of her muscles, smiled reassuringly.

"You're gorgeous," he murmured, not even having to exaggerate for once. "And strong, too. You're going to be an amazing hero."

Tomato had just become eggplant. He started to wonder if it was possible for a person to die of embarrassment.

Before she could respond, he began to slide his hands up to her chest, then rubbed a pair of fingers against the cool swell of her firm b.r.e.a.s.ts. Gently he began to trace his fingers along them, fingertips sinking slightly into her soft, almost springy flesh. She gasped, then m.o.a.ned as he squeezed her, hands clenching and unclenching as he continued this focused attention. When he started to brush her small, caramel-colored n.i.p.p.l.es, the shuddering whimper was immediate.

You're such a sensitive little thing, he didn't say, because unlike the frustrated housewives that made up the bulk of his client base, she wouldn't appreciate the teasing. She was shy enough as it is; if she felt like he was making fun of her, he was sure she'd shut down. No, the boyfriend experience, that was what he'd decided on. So, pushing aside the urge to torment her a little, to hint at but not give her what she wanted until she either begged or demanded, he instead gently brought his mouth to one of them, then began to softly nibble.

That may have been a little much, he mused, as Ikuko immediately began to shudder and pant once again. He hadn't even finished her massage yet. Still, he decided, as he squeezed her other b.r.e.a.s.t, it's not like she was complaining. Quite the opposite, in fact; she began to run her hands though his hair. Well, he thought, as he began to suck at her, no reason to stop now. He savored the slight salty taste that entered his mouth, the soft feeling between his fingers as he tugged and squeezed at the other, the increasingly frantic m.o.a.ns filling his ears.

After a few minutes enjoying her cries of pleasure, he popped his lips from her now thoroughly-erect n.i.p.p.l.e. Before she could fall too far from her plateau, he replaced it with his other hand, then brought himself to her other b.r.e.a.s.t. Either this one was even more sensitive, or she was closer than he'd thought, because in less than a minute he felt her body begin to buck, h.i.p.s trying to grind against a hardness that wasn't there. Her mouth opened in a wordless cry, and her arms wrapped around his head as she came. He continued the pressure a little longer, letting her ride the orgasm out, then slowly pulled away and caressed her cheek. Incredibly sensitive, he thought, as she muttered incoherently.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, he worked quietly on her athletic musculature, letting her recover from what he assumed was her first orgasm in the company of another person. But as he finished with her powerful legs, he saw a look of need on her face once again. Once again, his fingers drifted between those legs, caressing her now thoroughly-saturated hair. This time, he slid one hand down her leg, then moved to grasp the other. He firmly pulled her towards the edge of the table, and her eyes opened wide as she grasped his intentions.

"Yamada-san, what..." she began to ask, and he answered by kneeling down, lowering his face to her thighs. She quickly moved to cover herself. "No," she stuttered, "I- that's-"

No, not that stupid cliche. He's going to nip that bit of body shame in the bud immediately.

"Ikuko-chan," he purred, "let me give you a bit of advice. When a man you plan to have s.e.x with is putting his head between your legs, the correct responses are yes, please, or..." he continued with a mischievous smirk, "...good boy."

He forced himself to keep a straight face as she completely failed to formulate a response. Oh, when she got a little more confidence she was going to be fun. For now, he gently but firmly began to apply pressure to either side of her thighs, and - with just a moment of hesitation - she let him spread her.

Ordinarily, he'd start with those thighs, building the anticipation before moving in. But he didn't want her to mistake playfulness for hesitation, and so he quickly lowered his mouth to her. He inhaled deeply, savoring the heady aroma, as he parted her hair and lips with his tongue and began to lap at the silky folds beneath. Salty tartness flowed over his tongue as he gently licked, getting her used to the sensation before starting to mix things up. She had no idea what she liked yet, so he warmed her up with a little of everything, licking, sucking, and nibbling at her and taking note of what got a particularly positive reaction. A gasp when he flicked across her inner labia rapidly; a m.o.a.n when he licked them slowly; a cry of ecstasy as he tugged at them with his lips. Fingers twisted in his hair as he teased her clit with his tongue, then held his head against her once he slid lower and drove it into her depths.

Her legs squeezed his head as he caressed her inner walls with his tongue, reveling in the thick tang within her. In barely the space of a minute, her powerful h.i.p.s began to buck once more. Quickly, he wrapped his arms around her tensed legs, giving him the leverage he needed to keep his face against her and give her the attention she was due. She pleaded incoherently. Keep going? Have mercy? He didn't know, so he was going to err on the side of seeing how many times he could make her come. Then finally, with a scream of pleasure and a face-soaking spray of s.e.x.u.a.l fluids, she reached the last orgasm she could stand. Her hands pushed at him as her pelvis jolted like she'd been electrocuted, and he pulled himself from her shaking thighs.

A m.o.a.ning giggle and thousand yard stare greeted him, her body still pulsing with the aftershocks. Then, finally, she returned to coherence, and sat up with a start. Tears of shame filled her eyes when she saw how drenched she'd left him.

"I- I'm so sorry," she stammered, only to be interrupted by a soft "hey." Taro stood and licked his lips exaggeratedly, making a show of enjoying her taste.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," he reassured her. "It means I did a good job."

Seeing her quivering face, he then took her in his arms and held her, stroking her back as the enormity of this new experience overwhelmed her. As her tears subsided, Taro caressed her face. Her watery eyes looked at him with an affection he really hoped wasn't going to bite him in the ass. Still, he'd come this far; it was time to bring the boyfriend experience to a close.

"Are you ready, Ikuko-chan?" he asked, then waited for her reluctant nod. He held her hand and pulled her to her feet, then guided her to the towel-covered mattress the law permitted him to use. As she lay down, he slowly removed his clothes, letting her settle into the idea of what was about to happen. It also gave him time to focus on the charge of energy he'd been building up this entire time, priming it and shaping it so it'd give her the benefit she'd paid him for.

Now fully nude and ready to go, he sauntered towards her, watching her big green eyes as she took him in. He knew was nothing special; tall but too lanky to make it work, and his little heteromorphia didn't help. But between his confidence, blatant desire, and the combination of pleasant chemicals she'd been marinating in since the massage began, she was looking at him with a mix of wonder and hunger. And, he noticed, not a small amount of apprehension. Especially once he saw those eyes fix on his already-hard p.e.n.i.s. She suddenly took a sharp breath, as something suddenly occurred to her.

"Um, Yamada-san, you're going to use a condom, right?" she asked.

"I'm on the pill," he lied. In actuality, it was a fertility-toggling minor Quirk he'd picked up back in high school. He wasn't going to explain that to a client, though, especially not All-Might's protege. "Ordinarily I would - I do -" he explained, "but my Quirk only works through direct fluid exchange."

Ikuko took that bit of information into consideration, then nodded her assent. With that go-ahead received, he knelt between her legs and brushed his hard erection against her lips teasingly. He was maybe - maybe - a little above average, but from the look of worry in Ikuko's eyes he may as well have been gifted with a third leg. He could see her muscles clenching, and could guess that included some very vital muscles as well. So rather than move in, he placed a hand on her abdomen and caressed the straining muscles affectionately.

"Relax," he admonished her. "If you tense up like that, then it is going to hurt. If you're not ready yet, I can wait as long as you need."

She paused, nodded, and began to breathe deeply, psyching herself up for what was next. Taro petted her stomach and legs affectionately while he waited, letting her get used to the hardness now resting against her labia. Then, as her muscles finally relaxed, he began to gently, but firmly, push into her. He slid into her slick depths gradually, giving her time to adjust, but with a painless ease that Ikuko was clearly not expecting. At least, that's what he assumed from her surprised expression as his h.i.p.s pressed against hers, all of him now held within her.

"See," he said encouragingly, "nothing to be nervous about."

The quivering smile spreading across her face could have melted stone.

Pausing briefly to let her adjust to the new sensations, he slowly began to draw himself out, then pushed himself back into her. She was soaking wet, and hot, hotter than anyone he'd felt before. While she lacked the practiced grip of someone who knows how and when to squeeze, her natural tightness was still more than enough to make every thrust feel like bliss. He'd become an expert at outlasting his clients, even the demanding ones, but he had to actively fight the urge to just let go, to bring things to a sudden and embarrassing ending.

Ikuko, of course, had no clue about Taro's struggle. If she did, she wouldn't be wrapping her well-built legs around his waist, locking him against her with surprising strength. She certainly wouldn't be gripping his hair and pulling him into an unexpected kiss. Although that, at least, was a fortunate development; it shocked him enough to push him back from the plateau he was rapidly reaching. Really, he groused to himself, I thought everyone knew a p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.e's lips were sacrosanct. Nevertheless, he met her tongue with his as he rocked his body against hers, and let her m.o.a.n blissfully into his mouth.

Time passed. Hours? Probably not, but as he lost himself in the sensation of her grinding herself against him, him driving himself into her, it could very well have been. Their bodies shined with sweat. He'd lost track of how many times he'd felt her snug walls clench around him, hungrily squeezing him like they wanted to milk him dry. He wanted to keep going; he wanted it so badly it hurt. He hadn't felt genuine passion from a partner in months. He hadn't had a partner who wanted him instead of needing to fill a desperate void in their lives in days. But ultimately, holding back the orgasm he felt building up inside of him was like trying to push back the tide.

The sheer force of it knocked the wind out of him, leaving him gasping in shock. He'd come harder, he knew he had, but the windswept shreds of his conscious mind didn't have a clue when. Nor did he care. All he wanted in that moment was to fill her, to fire his s.e.m.e.n as deep inside of her as possible, to let her wring out every drop. He barely even felt the primed spark release along with it, igniting the potential that'd been building inside of Ikuko since the moment he touched her.

Ghostly lavender flames enveloped her, radiating from her like an aura. Her arms wrapped tightly around the two of them and she cried out, the power overwhelming her as it infused her. As the flames began to fade, they were replaced by pink lightning, searing across her skin before bursting forth in crackling green electrical energy. Her limbs now squeezed around him with the force of a hydraulic press, and for a moment he wondered if this was how he was going to die again. All in all, not a bad way to go, except the severe psychological trauma it'd inflict on her. But before anything could rupture, the energy faded from her, leaving him gasping for breath, and her passed out, a smile on her face.

———

"...But I never even imagined I could use my Quirk this way!" she rambled excitedly, as she dried her hair. "It's not like how - I mean, that is, I don't know if I would have ever thought of this without you."

Taro shook his head. "You're not giving yourself enough credit, you'd have gotten it eventually. All my Quirk does is speed things up." She would have, too. Still, Full Cowl before her first day of classes... he wondered how many butterflies he'd just unleashed on the world. He wanted to decide it wasn't his problem. He settled for deciding that was future Taro's problem, and who cares about that guy?

"Still, I don't know how I can thank you enough," she said, and Taro snorted in response.

"You paid cash; that's all the thanks I need."

Ikuko blinked for a moment and then blushed; apparently the mercenary nature of their transition had completely slipped her mind. Yeah, this was definitely going to bite him in the ass. Better give her a little reminder of his job description. So he put on his best playful smirk, and said "Anyway, if you're really grateful, think about sending some of your cute classmates this way." As she sputtered at the idea, he winked at her. "Maybe I'll even give you a freebie if you bring me enough business."

Wait, no, why'd he say that!? Stupid suave and playful persona! Stupid adorable reverse harem protagonist in training!

"I'll... I'll think about it, Taro-san," she said, a glazed look of determination telling him she was already going to find a way. She lingered for a moment longer, then headed out the heavy door, which latched behind her as she went.

"Future Taro's problem, future Taro's problem, future Taro's problem," he chanted, as he flopped back down on his chair. He then closed his hidden eyes, feeling the new thrum of power he'd unlocked inside himself. A Quirk that could let him transfer any of the Quirks he created, with the exception of itself, to someone else. That... that could be a game-changer. Imagine what a Pro Hero could do with a second Quirk. Imagine what they'd pay if they knew he could give it to them.

...Imagine what a Villain would do to him if they knew he could make them the next All For One. Okay, there's the ice water down his spine he needed to keep himself grounded. He was going to have to keep this one even more of a secret than his real Quirk until he had more than a Swiss Army knife of S.e.x Quirks and barely useful junk. But once he did... well, the possibilities were amazing.

But still, he thought, as he let one of those aforementioned minor Quirks refill his stamina for his next appointment...

...Why did it have to name itself 'Eat This!'?

Chapter 2

"Yamada-sama, please! Please, please, I need to come! Please let me come!"

Taro Yamada held the older woman from behind, one hand groping at her b.r.e.a.s.ts, the other holding the showerhead directly against her neatly-trimmed mound. Her legs were shaking, muscles in her calves and thighs visibly straining to keep her up. He rubbed his semi-erect member against her firm ass, admiring how her saggy, pudgy butt had transformed over the last few months. It was hard to believe this lean, toned beauty was once a paunchy office lady who'd bitterly referred to herself as unsold goods. She'd paid the premium for Tantric Empowerment every single time, and it had thoroughly transformed her into someone who would instantly bring to mind a cougar even if they'd never heard the slang usage.

She'd raved about it while he f.u.c.k.i.e.d her, laughing at how her juniors were now tripping over themselves trying to make time for her. The not-so-secretly submissive office lady was clearly trying to make him jealous; it hadn't worked, of course, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from playing along. He moved the showerhead to her stomach, enjoying her whine of need, then pinched her n.i.p.p.l.e hard enough to make her gasp.

"Alright, Watanabe-san, I think you've had enough." He then lowered the showerhead once again. "Why don't you count for me? Twenty, nineteen, eighteen..." He felt her entire body tensing, holding in the orgasm he'd been building for several minutes now. "...eleven, ten, nine..." Her knees buckled, and a low m.o.a.n echoed from her throat, before she finally lost it at "...three." He held her up as she rode it out, then lowered the showerhead once more to wash away the wetness that had been flowing down her legs.

"Tsk tsk, couldn't make it, huh?"

"I'm sorry, Yamada-sama," she m.o.a.ned, crumpling to the ground as he released her.

"Don't worry about it," he said as he stroked her hair. He then affected steel into his voice, and promised "I'll remember it for next time." He then helped her to her feet, turned the water off, and grabbed her a towel before wrapping one around himself.

———

"You know, Taro-kun," she began, and he tried not to balk at the familiarity she was putting on, "that big promotion I was telling you about finally came through."

"Congratulations, Watanabe-san," he replied, as he walked her to her car. She'd asked him to accompany her, citing the fact that the sun was starting to go down and his parlor wasn't in the nicest neighborhood. He'd gone along with it, knowing the real reason.

"It's more than enough for two to live comfortably on," she continued, looking at him hopefully. "I could take you away from all of this, you know."

"I know, Watanabe-san." There it was. This wasn't the first time she'd made the offer, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

As they reached her car, she reached out, and grabbed his hands. He jolted at the unexpected intimacy. "Please, Taro-kun: You've taken such good care of me. Won't you let me take care of you too?"

He smiled at her, affecting a look of wistfulness. "I've told you, Watanabe-san, I'm very flattered, but I'm happy right where I am." He then pulled his hands away and headed back, leaving her to drive alone in the night.

If he thought she'd actually fallen for him, he'd have felt worse. But even if he could do monogamy, he knew, and knew she knew, that what she loved was the idea of him: A young man who craved her, who would have made love to the old her with the same enthusiasm as this new one. She didn't really want a boytoy who had as much in common with her as he did a Pro Hero.

Besides, he was happy. Mostly. He was getting paid to do something he loved, and while he didn't have much of a profit margin yet, he was steadily building up a client base. Even if his wilder ideas weren't panning out, he'd be able to make a comfortable living. It's just...

...Okay, time to be honest with himself. He didn't think s.e.x work would feel so much like, well, work. Obviously there's the back end; he was expecting that. But he'd still thought he'd be selling s.e.x; instead it felt like he was a performer with his p.e.n.i.s as a prop. Well, most of he time, he thought, as he remembered the feeling of legs wrapped around him, lips locked against his...

No, stop. He wasn't Julia Roberts, dammit. He had as much in common with the future Pro Hero as he did Watanabe-san. He knew what he wanted was what she represented; a source of that passion and intensity that he hadn't felt since he'd opened his business. But as much as he wanted that, he knew she wasn't it.

Besides, he thought, as he reached his little parlorit wasn't like he wasn't enjoying himself. The s.e.x was still fun. Not the same kind of fun, but as much fun as any job could hope to be. Sure it'd be nice if more of his clients just wanted to rut like animals without all the pageantry and performance. But not even Ikuko got that. A client who wanted something like that wasn't going to just fall out of the-

The force of the impact blew him backwards. By the time he rolled to a stop against his door, she'd begin to slowly stand from the crouched position she'd landed in. His eyes and jaw gaped open as he panned up her long musclebound legs and her wide, round ass to settle on the cottony tail sprouting from the base of her spine. Sinew and meat rippled visibly beneath bronze skin and white leotard as she arched her back and stretched her broad shoulders, before relaxing and c.o.c.king her head back to stare down at him. A feral grin spread across the Number Seven Hero's face, showing her gleaming fangs.

"Nice setup ya got here, 'Taro-kun.'"

———

Mirko was short. That wasn't his first impression, but he couldn't get that fact out of his mind. The stocky, musclebound woman swaggered into his parlor like she towered over him, but if he were feeling particularly suicidal today he could probably rest his elbow on top of her head. He wasn't, so he didn't, but that little insane part of humanity that tells them they could jump when they're at a cliff's edge made him aware it was possible.

"I would first like to stress that my business is entirely legal," he recited, with a confidence he did not have, "as per the most recent interpretation of..."

She cut off the boilerplate he'd had drilled into him with a chuff. "Do I look like a give a crap?" she asked. "Are you screwin' anyone who doesn't want to be screwed?" He shook his head quickly. "Then why should I care?"

He wasn't going to argue with that. Still, if she wasn't going to arrest him, or kick him through a wall and then arrest him, then what was she doing here? She snorted as he realized he'd said that last part out loud, and then rotated and flicked her long ears.

"I hear things when I'm out on patrol. Every time I've hopped this way, I've heard a different woman. It's the same guy every time, though. You're the only one here." She then grinned and bent forward to leer at him, not coincidentally doing very interesting things to her prominent bust. "That's a lot of ladies. So what's yer secret?"

He'd never tried to lie about his Quirk to a Pro Hero before; he had no idea if she'd buy it. Still, there's a first time for everything. "My Quirk, Tantric Empowerment, has some secondary adaptations. One of them is a greatly reduced refractory period."

Mirko hummed appreciatively. "That's what I was hoping to hear. So how fast can you reload?"

"It usually takes me about five minutes to go again, half an hour to fully reload, but..."

Her grin instantly became a frown. "That's all you've got?"

"...But," he continued, "If I go for long enough without coming, I can, well, 'bank it,' I suppose. As long as I've got one banked, I can recover instantly."

He was still getting used to that; it had barely been a week since he woke up aware of the extra loads he'd built up in his sleep. Ikuko must have passed along a minor Quirk as well; this was his version of the Stockpile Quirk that made One for All what it was. It didn't give him weather-shaping super strength, but each time his refractory-shortening Quirk would have refilled him while he was at capacity, it'd bank a charge.

"Oh? Now you've got me excited. How many have ya got banked?"

"It caps out at one day's worth."

"Forty-eight, huh?" She then reached into a hip pack that he didn't remember her being depicted with. It made sense, though; she didn't have much room to carry things in that skintight costume. In one smooth motion, she pulled out and slammed a stack of bills on his desk. His eyes widened. That was more money than he earned in a month.

The implications of that suddenly occurred to him. Oh shit, that was more money than he earned in a month. Mirko's grin widened; she'd been waiting for him to realize exactly what she meant.

"So, think you can leave me a satisfied customer?"

Taro gulped.

———

"M-mirko-san, the idea is that you're supposed to be lying down on the massage table when I come in."

She was on him the moment he'd entered, and currently had him pinned against the wall with one arm. The other was currently working at his belt buckle. She was n.a.k.e.d, of course; he didn't even have to look to confirm that. Not with the way she was rubbing those frankly magnificent b.r.e.a.s.ts against him.

"I have people for that," she said dismissively. "Besides, you just want a chance to cheat by dosing me. "At his incredulous look, she sniffed. "These ears get all the attention, but a Rabbit's best sense is her nose. I can smell all kinds of s.e.xy stuff in the air."

"I'm not..."

"I'm not judging, I just don't want it. I don't need that cologne you've got on either."

"That's actually not something I can turn off," he muttered.

"Really?" She leaned forward to sniff at him, then poked curiously at his forehead. "All that and the eye thing too?" He tried not to show the worry on his face; he really didn't want the Pro Hero to decide things weren't lining up. Luckily, she brushed it off.

"Look, you've got your way of doing things. I respect that. But I don't need a massage to get me in the mood. Feel, right here," she demanded, as she grabbed his hand and pressed it between her thick, powerful legs. Her smooth, hairless labia were completely soaked, sticky juices not only clinging to them but running down her inner thighs almost to her knees. He could feel her heat, and a glance down revealed her lips had darkened from bronze to cocoa in arousal.

"I don't want whatever song and dance you usually sell," she declared. "I don't want you to try and satisfy me by licking my cunny while I sit back and dream of getting filled up. I want to screw someone that won't give up right as it's getting good. I want yer d.i.c.k," she growled, sliding a hand into his pants and grasping him firmly, "and I want it bad."

Between the ravenous look in her eyes, the feeling of her dripping, eager s.e.x, and her strong, nimble fingers, Taro was ready before his pants hit the ground. Physically, at least. Mentally, he legitimately wondered if he was getting out of his on one piece. Too late for regrets now, he decided, as he drew off his shirt and tossed it to the ground with the hand not currently gripped between Mirko's powerful legs.

"Alright, let's head over to the bed, and-"

"Screw that," she interrupted, and with superhuman grace, hopped and wrapped her legs around his pelvis, driving him into her in a single smooth motion.

She was like a vice. No, he thought, a vice wouldn't feel amazing while it crushed the life from you. He'd f.u.c.k.i.e.d more experienced women, had felt how strong v.a.g.i.n.a.l muscles could squeeze. Well, he thought he had. It turns out, he had no idea. She'd completely wrapped around him the moment he entered her, with so much force that if he'd been circ.u.mcised he probably wouldn't be able to move himself. Even with the benefit of foreskin and the wetness flooding from her, each thrust took a surprising amount of effort. As it turned out, that wasn't much of a problem, because she had no such difficulty.

He'd gotten good at holding back. But this felt as far beyond anything he'd felt it was like losing his v.i.r.g.i.nity all over again, and he lasted about as long. With a suddenness that made him gasp, he felt himself empty inside of the Rabbit Hero's iron grip. Pale purple flame soaked into her, and she raised an eyebrow. "That's all you got? That's not nearly as fun as I was hoping for. Alright, I'll hold back a bit, and-"

But she wasn't the only one benefitting from the transfer of power. As he came inside of her, he felt his real Quirk activate, tasting hers and making something new from it. Fire rippled inside of him, speaking into his legs and reforging them. Although he hadn't outwardly changed, it felt like muscle, veins, and bone were replaced by steel cables, pipes, and girders. He'd thought he was reasonably strong before; compared to how he felt now, his legs may as well have been cooked pasta.

No, he realized, it wasn't just his legs. While that was where the power was concentrated, he'd gotten enough upgrades to the general area to make use of them. His h.i.p.s and lower spine felt durable, at least enough to not get torn apart by the newfound force. So had everything else in that general vicinity; his Quirk had made sure he wouldn't accidentally castrate himself by clenching his legs together.

Oh. There were other uses for that last one. He felt himself harden again, the stockpiling Quirk refueling him completely, and with a forceful thrust, drove himself deep inside of the Rabbit Hero. The crushing grip was still as strong as ever, but with the newfound strength and durability let him push though anyway. Her eyes widened with the sudden intrusion, and he matched her grin. "You just caught me off guard," he growled. "It won't happen again."

"That's what I like to hear," she bellowed, as she pulled back and slammed her h.i.p.s against his.

The second time was a battle for dominance, his newfound strength only barely letting him hold his own against her raw power and aggression. They drove into each other with abandon; the sound of slapping flesh and spattering fluids echoed through the room. By the time she managed to drag another orgasm out of him, she was glowing with sweat, and the pulse of him inside of her sent her over the edge as well. She held him for support, sank her teeth into his neck, and trembled as they rode the wave of pleasure out together. As he caught his breath, Mirko panted wildly, already starting to ride him again. "You're the real deal," she exclaimed. "Now I don't have to hold back."

The third time was like being caught in a hurricane. Her thick muscles bulged and strained with effort as she slammed herself down on him, accelerating faster and faster as he proved he could withstand the impact. Soon she was jackhammering him, moving so fast her lower body was a blur. Without his new Quirk, Rabbit Legs, she'd be cracking bone; even with it, all he could do was hold on for dear life. This time, she was the one to come first, slamming herself down on him with enough strength to force him to the floor. She rocked back and forth on his full length, panting with pleasure as the rapid contractions of her v.a.g.i.n.a.l muscles sucked another load out of him.

By the fifth time, he'd adjusted to her frenzied mating, and was pushing back against her as she slammed into her. Drops of wetness flew with each wet slap, the force of their impact splashing the river of mixed fluids pouring from her and soaking him. She buried his face in her pillowy b.r.e.a.s.ts and begged her to fill him; as he sank his teeth into one chocolatey n.i.p.p.l.e, he all too eagerly obliged.

The eighth time, he was on top of her. She'd wrapped her legs around him and was squeezing down each time he thrusted into her. Sweat dripped from his body as he panted with exertion; she on the other hand, was far more vocal.

"C'mon, fill me up! Fill me with your c.u.m and knock me up! Breed me! Breed me, ya bastard!"

He quashed that little insane part of him that said she was technically asking him to do it. He was way too young to be a posthumous parent. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the mental image of those rippling caramel abs swollen with his seed as his barren s.p.e.r.m splashed against her cervix.

The thirteenth time, she was bent over, legs spread wide, crying out incoherently. If he had any real control over the situation at all, he'd probably be feeling like he was king of the world. But she was the one slamming her plump, firm ass into his h.i.p.s with blistering speed, and he was once again struggling to hold on. He rubbed at the base of her tail with abandon, and the incoherent m.o.a.n he tore from her made it clear that he'd found her sweet spot. But all that meant is that she clenched him harder as she f.u.c.k.i.e.d him, roaring fragments of commands to not dare stop.

The twenty-first time was slow and sensual. Both of them glistened with sweat, and even the Pro Hero was now panting for breath. So she slowly rocked her h.i.p.s against his while he stroked her dangling b.r.e.a.s.ts, both savoring the lull.

"So - hah, hah - what's it like anyway?"

"Nothing like this," he finally puffed, and she guffawed.

"Of course not," she said, running a hand down his chest with surprising gentleness. "I'm me."

He snorted. "It's different than I thought. A lot more of a job, you know? I think I went into it thinking it'd all be like this, and..."

"...It's not, is it? Heh, I know just what you mean. Heroing's great. The paperwork, though? Screw it."

"How do you deal with it?"

She shuddered and m.o.a.ned, then returned to her slow rocking. "I don't slow down," she finally said. "I do things how I want, live my best life. When I see a bad guy," she purred, grinding herself against him, "I kick his butt. When I see a neat shop, I go take a look. When I hear a bunch of happy women," and she clamped down on him and threw back her head, "oh f.u.c.k - I see what the fuss is about." She winked, and said "It's working so far."

"I don't - hah - think having s.e.x with whoever I wanted would work for me," he replied.

"Not unless ya wanted me to kick you through a wall," she admitted. But you could pick who you screwed. Throw out the losers, keep the fun ones."

"That - hah - that's the dream," he gasped, as she started to pick up speed.

"Make it work," she challenged him. "Ya got a nice d.i.c.k. Don't waste it." She then leered at him and grinned, hunger in her eyes. "Speaking of, I think I'm just about done with our little break."

The jerking spasms as her powerful v.a.g.i.n.a.l muscles wrung another load of s.e.m.e.n out of him, and the corresponding burst of pale purple flame served as all the confirmation she needed.

By the thirty-fourth time, he'd moved from wondering if he'd make it out of this room in one piece. No, he now wondered if he was making it out at all. The Rabbit Hero was on top of him again, ass flattening against his abdomen as she bounced aggressively. He watched in awe as her muscles tensed and contracted, back arching as she came once again. Now that she'd caught her second wind, she showed no signs of slowing down. Meanwhile, his stockpile did nothing to alleviate the fatigue he felt. Orgasms were less bursts of pleasure now and more of a countdown, to his final reprieve. It couldn't come fast enough. And he, unfortunately, couldn't either.

The forty-eighth time was frantic, Mirko desperately trying to get as much use out of him as possible before he finally dried up. She held him down, muscles swelling with the effort of keeping him from even trying to escape. Not that he was trying. That was beyond him now. His muscles burned, his bones ached, and the less said about his poor exhausted p.e.n.i.s the better. All he could do was wait until biology did what it was programmed to do, and he came one final time inside of her. She looked almost disappointed, as if she still hadn't had enough, only for her eyes to widen and her lips to split into a fang-mouthed smile when she felt him harden once again.

"That's right,��� she said, "you've been recharging this whole time, haven't you?"

Taro wept softly.

———

The Rabbit Hero beamed as she kicked rapidly, legs leaving shockwaves with each snap. "Holy crap, your Quirk rocks. I feel like I underpaid you." She then crunched down on one of the empty water bottles scattered around. "Or I would if you hadn't got a little extra from me too."

Taro tried to respond, but a look silenced him. "I'm not stupid," she said. "I could feel the change the first time we screwed. I can almost respect the balls it took trying to slip that past me." She then threw up her arms. "Really, I don't give a crap. Unless you go Villain it's not hurting me any. If ya do," she said with a wink, "it'll make kicking yer butt more fun."

Having said her piece, she flung her clothes over her shoulder and sauntered over to the parlor's bathroom. "I'm going to wash up. I'm a little messy." That was an understatement: The mixture dribbling from her had coated her inner calves, and heavy drops fell from her as she shifted her sweat-wreathed h.i.p.s. "Don't worry, I'll lock up when I'm done."

As she opened the door, she looked back with a grin. "Hey, I'm taking a card. Get ready to clear a day next time."

Taro tried to respond again. But he didn't manage anything coherent before she had stepped through. So he just gave up and decided to appreciate how comfortable the floor was. He was soaked in sweat and the same mixture the Number Seven Hero was currently washing off of himself, his everything hurt, and he felt the kind of pounding headache that let him know he should have been asleep hours ago. Glazed and unfocused eyes flicked to the wall clock; he couldn't read it right now, but had three digits and none of them were a one. He'd put money on that not being a two either. Maybe a three. Hopefully a three.

Air blew from his lungs; calling it a sigh was assigning him agency he didn't know if he had right now. But the intent was there. Message received, universe, he thought. I will never ask for anything ever again.