(Aizawa/Tiny Izuku)

Izuku--

When I was nineteen years old, I contracted the shrinking virus. Not only was I quirkless, but I also shrunk to the size of a mere three inches and my body turned into a strange, rubbery substance. I could still feel pain, but I couldn't die from being crushed or flattened. My mother, Inko, was horrified by my transformation. She was so disgusted that she decided to sell me off to make some money and live a better life.

One cold morning, the air in the kitchen was filled with the scent of toast and coffee, but I knew something was wrong when my mother approached me with an unreadable expression. Her eyes lacked their usual warmth as she bent down and roughly picked me up between her thumb and forefinger, the sudden movement making my rubbery body stretch slightly.

"You're nothing but a burden now," she said coldly, her voice devoid of any motherly affection. "A loser."

The word stung more than I could have imagined. She held me up, inspecting me one last time before casually dropping me into a small, dark box. The fall was disorienting, and I landed with a soft thud on the Styrofoam lining. I looked up through the open top of the box, seeing my mother's face framed by the cardboard edges. Her expression was cold and indifferent as she reached for the tape.

I watched in despair as she pulled the tape from the roll, the screeching sound filling the confined space. "Goodbye, loser," she said with a cruel smirk, sealing the box shut. The loud rip of the tape echoed in the darkness, cutting off the last sliver of light. The air inside was stale, filled with the harsh smell of plastic. I could hear the sound of the tape screeching as she pulled it from the roll and the loud rip as it secured the box.

The box was lifted and carried to the kitchen counter. The movement jostled me around, causing the Styrofoam to rub against my skin with every step she took. The smell of adhesive tape mingled with the faint scent of the morning's breakfast, which lingered in the air. I lay there, helpless, as my mother went about her morning routine, ignoring the small package that contained her shrunken son.

The box sat there for what felt like an eternity. My breathing echoed in the tiny space, and I could hear every rustle of the Styrofoam as I shifted slightly. The confined darkness was suffocating, and I could faintly hear the bustling sounds of our home fading into the background. Then, a familiar voice broke the silence.

"Inko, what's in the box?" It was Mitsuki, my mom's friend. Her voice boomed through the thin walls of my prison, causing the Styrofoam to vibrate slightly.

"Oh, that? I'm finally getting rid of that quirkless trash that shrunk," Inko's voice replied, laced with a disturbing mix of relief and amusement. I felt a pang of sadness and anger as her words echoed in my ears. My mother, who had always been so caring and protective, now saw me as nothing more than an inconvenience.

Mitsuki's laughter filled the room, harsh and mocking. "Good riddance! Did you get a good payout?"

"I did. Izuku is going to some teacher at U.A.," Inko said, laughing along with her friend. The sound of their laughter reverberated around me, each burst like a blow to my already shattered heart. My mind raced, trying to process the betrayal. U.A. High School was supposed to be a place of heroes, and now I was being sold off like an object.

Inko then asked Mitsuki if she wanted to come with her for a walk to the post office, and Mitsuki eagerly agreed. I felt the box being lifted again, the sudden movement making my stomach churn. The Styrofoam rubbed against me with each step they took, creating a cacophony of squeaky noises. The smell of cardboard and plastic grew stronger as the box was carried through the house.

As they walked, I could hear the muffled sounds of the city around us. The distant hum of traffic, the occasional bark of a dog, and the rhythmic clatter of their footsteps on the pavement created a disorienting symphony. My world had shrunk to the size of this box, and each sound was magnified, echoing in my tiny prison. The constant movement made me dizzy, and I struggled to maintain my sense of direction. Each jostle and bump sent me sprawling against the Styrofoam walls, my body stretching and bending with the motion.

Eventually, the box was put down on a counter with a heavy thud, jarring me against the Styrofoam. My mother's booming voice filled the space again as she spoke to the post office employee. "I need to send this package," she said, her tone casual, as if she were merely sending a letter.

"Sure thing. What's in it?" the employee asked, sounding uninterested.

"Just some old stuff I don't need anymore," Inko replied nonchalantly. Her words stung, but I couldn't help but feel a spark of defiance. I was more than just "old stuff."

"Alright, let's get it weighed and sorted," the employee said. I felt the box being lifted again, the motion making me nauseous. The air inside the box was growing warmer and more oppressive with each passing moment.

The box was set down once more, and I could hear the sounds of stamps being applied and the rustle of papers. My heart pounded in my chest as the reality of my situation sank in deeper. I was being shipped off like an unwanted item, discarded by the person who was supposed to love me unconditionally.

The box was picked up once more and then thrown into a bin with a loud crash. The impact knocked the air out of me, and I lay there, feeling the rough texture of the Styrofoam against my skin. The darkness was absolute, and the smell of cardboard was overwhelming.

As I lay there, my mind raced with thoughts of what was to come. I had no idea where I was going or what awaited me. All I knew was that my life as I had known it was over. The sound of the post office employees working around me became a distant hum as I slipped into a restless, uneasy sleep, my mind plagued by fears of an uncertain future.

The rhythmic sounds of the post office, the distant conversations, and the occasional thud of packages being sorted all blended into a disorienting lullaby. Each noise was a stark reminder of my new reality, a reality where I was no longer Izuku Midoriya, aspiring hero, but a tiny, rubbery being discarded by those I once trusted.

When the box was picked up again, I was jolted awake from my restless slumber. The Styrofoam walls shifted around me, and I was thrown against them as the box was moved. The familiar, unsettling sensation of being tossed about returned, and I braced myself as best as I could in the confined space. Each bump and jolt was a reminder of my new, fragile existence.

The sounds outside the box changed, growing louder and more chaotic. I could hear the rumble of an engine and the distant voices of people shouting orders. I realized I was being loaded onto a truck. The box was placed down roughly, and the vibrations from the truck's engine began to hum through the Styrofoam, adding to the constant jostling.

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as the truck rumbled along. Every turn and bump in the road sent me careening into the Styrofoam walls, my rubbery body absorbing the impact but still feeling the pain. The smell of cardboard and adhesive was all-consuming, mixing with the faint scent of gasoline and exhaust from outside. I tried to keep myself steady, but each movement of the truck made it nearly impossible.

Eventually, the truck came to a stop. The sudden stillness was almost disorienting after the constant motion. The box was picked up again, and I was thrown around as it was handed off to another person. The new handler didn't seem to care much about the contents, and I was jostled roughly as they walked. The echo of footsteps reverberated through the box, each step a reminder of my tiny, helpless state.

As we moved through what I assumed were the halls of U.A., the sounds of students and teachers mingled with the echoing footsteps. Laughter, conversations, and the occasional shout created a chaotic symphony that was both comforting and alienating. I was no longer a part of this world; I was merely an object being passed around.

Finally, the box was placed down on a hard surface with a thud. The sudden stillness was almost a relief. I could hear the rustle of papers and the faint hum of a distant conversation. My heart raced as I wondered what was coming next. Suddenly, a knife cut through the top of the box, and blinding light poured in from above. I squinted, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness, but before I could, a giant hand reached in and grabbed me roughly.

The pressure of the hand squished me slightly as I was lifted out of the box. My rubbery body stretched uncomfortably, and I could feel every ridge and line of the giant's skin pressing into me. As I was lifted up, I found myself staring into the massive, bored eyes of Shota Aizawa. His breath, warm and slightly stale, washed over me in gusts, each exhale a reminder of his immense size compared to my tiny form.

Aizawa's expression was impassive, almost indifferent, as he examined me. His giant eyes blinked slowly, and I could see every detail of his pupils and the slight wrinkles around his eyes. He held me up, turning me slightly as if inspecting a curious object. The minutes stretched on in silence, the only sound the faint rustle of papers and the distant murmur of voices. His bored expression never changed, making me feel even smaller and more insignificant.

Finally, he spoke, his voice booming around me like thunder. "I don't know why Mic likes you pathetic pieces of trash so much," he said, his tone flat and uninterested. He lightly bounced me on the palm of his hand, each motion sending a wave of discomfort through my body. "But he was raving about you tiny people so much I thought I would buy one to see."

His words filled me with a mix of fear and confusion. Before I could process what was happening, Aizawa used his free hand to stretch the band of his pants and underwear. The smell of fabric and his natural scent hit me as he lowered his hand with me on it and tilted it, causing me to slide off and fall into the waistband of his underwear. I landed on his giant flaccid penis, the warm, slightly damp skin pressing against me as the waistband snapped shut, sealing me in a musky darkness.

The confined space was overwhelming. The heat from his body was intense, and the smell of sweat and fabric was all-consuming. Aizawa's voice rumbled around me, muffled by the layers of clothing. "If you don't keep me happy while I grade papers, I may just kill you afterward, so get to work."

The threat was clear, and the urgency of my situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I hesitated for a moment, the reality of my predicament sinking in. Then, realizing I had no other choice, I began to rub Aizawa's giant flaccid penis as best as I could. My tiny hands moved over the smooth skin, feeling the ridges and veins beneath.

The task was daunting. His flaccid penis was already massive compared to my tiny form, and as I continued to rub, I could feel it slowly starting to respond. The warmth of his skin and the musky scent surrounded me, making it difficult to focus. I used all my strength to continue, my rubbery body adapting to the contours of his penis as I worked.

Minutes felt like hours as I continued my efforts. I could feel Aizawa's heartbeat through the skin, a steady rhythm that matched the growing tension in the confined space. His penis began to swell, each pulse bringing it closer to life. The darkness around me seemed to close in, the heat and scent intensifying as his arousal grew.

Finally, his flaccid penis began to spring to life, starting to form a tent in his pants. The sheer size of it dwarfed me, the skin stretching and hardening beneath my touch. I could feel every movement, every twitch, as it grew larger and more rigid. The confined space became even tighter, the musky darkness pressing in on me from all sides. I continued to rub, my tiny hands moving frantically over the now enormous shaft, trying to keep up with the growing demand.

The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and as Aizawa's penis reached its full size, I realized just how small and insignificant I truly was. The giant, pulsing organ loomed over me, a constant reminder of my helplessness in this new, terrifying world.

I took a step back as Aizawa's dick became erect, towering over me like a monument. It was easily more than six inches long—over twice my size—and so thick now that I couldn't even wrap my arms around it. The enormity of it was intimidating, but the fear of Aizawa's punishment pushed me forward. I had to keep trying.

With determination, I wrapped my arms around it as best I could and started to hump it while kissing the pulsing flesh. The musky smell of sweat and arousal intensified, filling my nostrils and making my eyes water. A prominent vein popped out right at my face as I worked, throbbing with every beat of Aizawa's heart. Despite the overwhelming odor, I pressed on, giving it my all.

After a few minutes, Aizawa adjusted himself, repositioning his erection so it ran down his leg instead of creating a tent. The sudden movement nearly crushed me, and I had to scramble to avoid being flattened. The pressure of his thigh and the rigid shaft above me squeezed me tightly, but I managed to maneuver into a safer position.

With his erection now aligned along his leg, I had better access to the full length. I laid down on top of it, straddling the massive shaft and grinding myself against it while planting kisses along the warm, pulsing skin. The heat from his body seeped into mine, and the musky smell grew even stronger, almost suffocating. Aizawa's moans reverberated around me, assuring me that I was doing something right.

Slowly, I moved forward along the shaft, my kisses and grinding motions becoming more fervent as I approached the head. The intoxicating smell was starting to affect my mind, clouding my thoughts and pushing me into a state of complete submission. I was no longer Izuku Midoriya, aspiring hero—I was a servant, wholly devoted to pleasing my new master.

When I reached the head, I kissed it wildly, almost worshipfully. A bead of precum oozed out, glistening in the dim light and coating my lips. I licked it off, the salty taste mingling with the musk and further clouding my mind. My actions grew more frantic, more desperate to please.

After a few minutes of this, an idea struck me. I maneuvered myself in front of the slit at the tip of Aizawa's erection and carefully inserted my own tiny dick into it. The slit was just big enough to accommodate me, and the reaction was immediate. More precum flowed out, splattering over my body and making me slick with arousal.

I continued to thrust into the slit while hugging the head of the erection, my tiny body clinging to the massive organ. The heat and the overwhelming scent made it hard to think, and I lost myself in the rhythmic motion. Aizawa's erection tensed up, and I knew what was coming next. I thrust harder and harder, driven by the need to please.

Then, with a final push, I came inside the slit, and a moment later, Aizawa followed suit. Spurts of cum erupted from the head, completely covering me in the thick, sticky fluid. The force of it pushed me onto my back, and I found myself stuck to the side of Aizawa's thigh as the cum quickly dried and hardened.

Breathing heavily, I was ready to pass out. My body was exhausted, and my mind was a haze of conflicting emotions. The intense, musky scent still clung to me, mixing with the drying cum and creating a sensory overload.

Aizawa's booming voice cut through the haze, snapping me back to reality. "Your performance was satisfactory," he said, his tone as impassive as ever. "But you will do better in the future, or else."

His words hung in the air, a reminder of the constant threat that loomed over me. I nodded weakly, knowing that my fate was entirely in his hands. As I lay there, stuck to his thigh, the reality of my new existence settled in. I was no longer just quirkless Izuku Midoriya. I was a tiny, rubbery being, completely at the mercy of my new master.

The darkness closed in around me, and I let myself drift into an uneasy sleep, knowing that my life would never be the same again.