Chronolust Temptation [18+] High S*xual Content
Ch.5 Venting on Shina [forced anal, forced deepthroat, painful anal, MF]

Hayao’s heart thundered as Shina slipped into her loose t-shirt, her slender legs gliding toward the hallway. The moonlight streaming through the window bathed her pale skin in a silvery glow, her long black hair swaying with each step, a cascade of silk that teased his senses. The door was about to slide shut, but a primal urge surged within him, drowning out the guilt that had plagued him moments before. His cock, still semi-hard from their earlier encounter, twitched at the memory of her tight pussy, her moans echoing in his mind. The images of Kanae’s voluptuous body, claimed by fishermen downstairs, and Mai’s forbidden warmth under the stopwatch’s spell fueled a dark hunger he couldn’t suppress. He couldn’t let Shina leave—not yet.

“Shina,” he growled, his voice thick with lust, his hand shooting out to grab her arm with a bruising grip. She turned, her eyes wide with shock, a flicker of fear mingling with curiosity. “Hayao?” she asked, her voice trembling, her body tensing under his hold.

He yanked her back into the room, his eyes blazing with a predatory intensity. The moonlight cast stark shadows across his face, highlighting the raw desire that consumed him. Shina stumbled, her t-shirt riding up to expose her toned midriff, her nipples poking through the thin fabric, a silent invitation despite her wary expression. 

“What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to pull away, but his grip was ironclad, his fingers digging into her flesh, leaving red marks.

Hayao didn’t answer, his breath hot and ragged as he shoved her toward the futon, his hands rough as he spun her around and forced her face-down onto the mattress. Her ass lifted instinctively, pale and smooth in the dim light, a perfect target for his desire. He ripped her t-shirt off, the fabric tearing with a sharp sound, exposing her slender body, her small breasts pressed against the futon, her pink nipples hard from the cool air. His hands spread her ass cheeks wide, his cock, slick with their earlier cum, throbbing with need as he pressed the tip against her tight, unprepared rectum.

“Wait, no!” Shina cried, her body tensing, her voice shrill with panic. “That’s my poop chute! It’s not for sex stuff!” 

Her hands clawed at the futon, fingers digging into the cotton, trying to crawl away, but Hayao’s weight pinned her down, his knees straddling her thighs, trapping her in place.

His mind was a whirlwind of lust and darkness, images of Kanae’s sweat-slicked curves and Mai’s frozen surrender flashing through his thoughts. The stopwatch in his bag pulsed with a silent promise, but he didn’t need it now—this was raw, real, and he wanted to feel every moment. Ignoring Shina’s protests, he pushed forward, his cock forcing its way past her tight ring of muscle, the dry friction searing as he breached her. Shina screamed, a raw, guttural wail that echoed off the tatami walls, her body bucking violently beneath him, her muscles clenching in a futile attempt to expel him.

“It hurts! Stop!” she begged, tears streaming down her face, soaking the sheets as she thrashed, her slender frame trembling with agony. “You’re tearing me apart!” Her voice cracked, her sobs desperate, her hands scrabbling at the futon, nails tearing into the fabric as she tried to escape the burning pain.

Hayao grunted, his cock throbbing inside her, the tightness of her bowels a vice-like grip that sent waves of pleasure through him despite her screams. Each thrust was a battle, her body resisting, the dry heat scorching his shaft, the friction both painful and exhilarating. He slapped her ass hard, the sound a sharp crack in the quiet room, leaving a red handprint that bloomed like a wound on her pale skin. 

“Take it,” he growled, his voice devoid of empathy, his sadistic side reveling in her suffering. “Take every fucking inch.”

Shina’s screams turned to ragged sobs, her face buried in the sheets, her tears mixing with sweat. 

“It feels like I’m taking a shit, but worse!” she whimpered, her voice broken, her body shuddering with each brutal thrust. 

The pain was relentless, a fire radiating from her ass, her muscles spasming in protest, her pussy throbbing with confusion, still wet from their earlier encounter but offering no relief.

Hayao’s hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, leaving bruises as he pounded into her. The lack of lubrication made each thrust excruciating, her rear hole stretching painfully around his thick cock, the dry friction tearing at her delicate tissues. He could feel every ridge inside her, every clench of her muscles, the resistance only heightening his arousal. Her screams were a symphony of pain, each cry pushing him closer to climax, his balls tightening with need.

“Fuck, it burns!” Shina sobbed, her voice hoarse, her body rocking with each forceful thrust. “Please, Hayao, it’s too much!” Her words were a desperate plea, her hands fisting the sheets, her knuckles white as she tried to endure. Her ass was on fire, the searing pain spreading through her lower body, a sharp, tearing sensation that made her see stars. She tried to crawl forward, her knees scraping the futon, but Hayao’s grip was unyielding, his weight pinning her down, his cock relentless.

“Stay still,” he ordered, his voice harsh, slapping her ass again, harder this time, the sting making her yelp, her body jerking. 

He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back, his breath hot on her neck, the scent of his sweat mingling with hers, filling the room with a musky, primal odor. 

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice low and possessive, biting her shoulder hard, leaving a red mark, the taste of her salty skin filling his mouth.

Shina’s sobs grew weaker, her body trembling uncontrollably, her mind a haze of pain and confusion. 

“I can’t take it,” she gasped, her voice barely audible, her face streaked with tears. “Please, cum already, make it stop.” Her words were a broken plea, her body limp beneath him, resigned to the assault.

Hayao’s thrusts became erratic, his control slipping as his climax built. The tightness of her ass was almost unbearable, the friction intense, a mix of pleasure and pain that drove him wild. He could feel his cum building, his balls aching, the pressure overwhelming. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he came, hot, thick spurts flooding her ass. Shina screamed, her voice raw, her body convulsing as she felt the warm liquid fill her, adding to her discomfort, the burning pain unrelenting.

He stayed inside her for a moment, catching his breath, his cock twitching with aftershocks. Slowly, he pulled out, his cum leaking from her stretched rear hole, a viscous trail dripping onto the futon. Shina collapsed, her body shaking, her sobs quiet but persistent, her ass red and sore, her face buried in the sheets, tears soaking the fabric.

Hayao’s satisfaction was tinged with guilt, but his desire wasn’t sated. He flipped her onto her back, her eyes wide with fear and exhaustion, her chest heaving, her small breasts rising and falling rapidly. 

“Hayao, no more,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, her lips trembling, her face streaked with tears and sweat.

He ignored her, his cock still hard, slick with cum and her juices. He positioned her so her head hung off the edge of the futon, her long black hair spilling onto the tatami floor, her throat aligned for deeper penetration. He stood over her, his legs straddling her head, his cock hovering above her face, the tip brushing her swollen lips, the musky scent of their combined fluids heavy in the air. “Open your fucking mouth,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument, his hands tangling in her hair, holding her head steady.

Shina hesitated, her lips trembling, but the intensity in his eyes compelled her to comply. She parted her lips, her tongue flicking out reluctantly, tasting the bitter mix of cum and her ass. He slid his cock into her mouth, the angle allowing him to thrust deep into her throat, the tightness making him groan. Shina gagged immediately, her throat constricting around him, her hands pushing against his thighs, nails digging into his skin, her body jerking with each thrust. Saliva bubbled from her mouth, running down her face, mixing with tears, creating a glistening mess on her cheeks and chin.

“Fuck, your throat’s tight,” Hayao groaned, thrusting slowly at first, then faster, fucking her face with abandon. 

Her gagging sounds filled the room, wet and desperate, her body convulsing with each deep penetration. He could feel her throat tightening around him, the warmth and wetness a stark contrast to her dry, pained anus. 

“Damn,” he grunted, his hands gripping her head, his thumbs brushing her tear-streaked cheeks, the sight of her distress fueling his arousal.

Shina spluttered, choking on his cock, her eyes watering profusely, tears streaming down her temples into her hair. He pulled out briefly, giving her a moment to breathe, her chest heaving as she coughed, gasping for air. 

“It tastes awful,” she managed, her voice hoarse, the bitter taste of cum and blood overwhelming her senses.

“I don’t give a shit,” Hayao said coldly, his desire overriding her complaints, thrusting back into her mouth. 

He fucked her throat relentlessly, ignoring her gagging, her muffled cries vibrating against his cock, sending shivers of pleasure through him. Her hands fell to her sides, limp, her body resigned to his assault, her throat a warm, wet embrace despite her struggle. The room was filled with the sounds of her choking, his groans, and the creak of the futon under their weight, the air thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and desperation.

His climax built quickly, his balls tightening, the pressure unbearable. “Gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained, his thrusts growing erratic. 

Shina’s throat vibrated with a choked moan, her body tense, unable to respond. With a final, deep thrust, he exploded, his cum shooting down her throat, hot and thick, filling her mouth. She gagged, swallowing reflexively, her throat working to take it all, but some cum dribbled down her chin, pooling on her neck, mixing with her saliva and tears. He held her head in place until he was done, ensuring she took every drop, then pulled out, his cock softening, glistening with her spit.

Hayao collapsed onto the futon beside her, his chest heaving, his body spent, the room spinning with the intensity of his release. Shina lay there, her body aching, her throat sore, her ass burning with a pain that pulsed with every heartbeat. She wiped her face with a tissue, her hands trembling, trying to clean the mess of cum, saliva, and tears, but her exhaustion was overwhelming. 

“Fuck, Hayao, that was too much,” she muttered, her voice barely a whisper, hoarse and broken, her eyes clouded with pain and fatigue.

Hayao watched her, his satisfaction tainted by a creeping guilt, a shadow of his past with Mai, where the stopwatch had erased her awareness. Shina’s pain was real, her screams echoing in his mind, a reminder of the lines he’d crossed. The stopwatch in his bag seemed to pulse, its power tempting him to erase this moment, to take her again without consequence. But he pushed the thought away, the reality of her suffering grounding him in a way he couldn’t ignore.

Shina sat up, wincing as she moved, her ass clearly still in agony. She pulled her t-shirt over her head with shaky hands, her movements slow, each motion a reminder of the brutality she’d endured. 

“I’m out,” she said, her voice flat, devoid of her earlier playfulness, her eyes avoiding his. 

She stood, her legs unsteady, limping toward the door, her silhouette framed by the moonlight. The door slid shut with a soft thud, leaving Hayao alone in the quiet room, the air heavy with the scent of their encounter.

He lay back, staring at the ceiling, the lantern’s glow casting oppressive shadows. Shina’s screams, her tears, her pained protests—they burned in his mind, mingling with images of Kanae’s voluptuous body and Mai’s forbidden warmth. His cock stirred faintly, a reflex of his lingering desire, but exhaustion overwhelmed him. His business finished, he drifted into a deep, troubled sleep, the island’s secrets wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud, his dreams haunted by Shina’s cries and the stopwatch’s silent call.

The morning sun filtered through the window, waking Hayao to the scent of miso soup and grilled fish drifting from downstairs. He sat up, his body sore, his muscles stiff from the night’s exertion. His mind replayed the night before—Shina’s tight anus, her gagging throat, her pained screams—a mix of arousal and shame that left him hollow.

Downstairs, Kanae was setting out breakfast, her tanned skin glowing, her red kerchief bright against her brown hair. “Morning, Hayao,” she said, her smile warm, oblivious to the night’s events. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” he lied, his eyes scanning the room for Shina, but she was nowhere to be found. He took his seat at the low table, the clink of chopsticks against bowls a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind. 

Continue the story…