Chronolust Temptation [18+] High S*xual Content
Ch.3 Quest for the Blonde [B]

Hayao pushed through the heavy door back into the main lounge of the underground club, the stopwatch’s faint pulse humming against his chest. The opulent space—mahogany walls, plush leather armchairs, and crystal chandeliers—reeked of smoke and whiskey, the soft jazz weaving through the low hum of rich men’s voices. His body still buzzed with satisfaction from his brutal session with Reika, but the artifact’s dark influence stirred anew, hungry for more. He scanned the room, seeking Taro Yoko, the club’s owner, his eyes adjusting to the golden glow.

He found Taro sprawled in a corner armchair, his fat but well-groomed frame draped in a tailored suit, his gold cufflinks glinting as he leaned back, eyes half-closed in pleasure. A dark brown girl with vibrant green hair, mid-twenties and legal, knelt between his legs, her head bobbing as she fellated him with practiced skill, her lips sliding along his cock with wet, obscene sounds. Taro’s heavy hand rested on her head, guiding her rhythm. Noticing Hayao, he raised a hand, his voice smooth despite his indulgence. 

“Miyazaki-kun, give me a moment. She’s almost done.” His grin was lazy, predatory, as he thrust lightly into the girl’s mouth.

Hayao waited, the stopwatch’s pulse quickening, his arousal flaring as he watched the green-haired girl work, her throat bulging with each deep stroke. Moments later, Taro groaned, his hand tightening as he came, the girl’s lips sealing around him. She pulled back, swallowing his cum with a deliberate gulp, then stood, wiping her mouth with a smirk. Her eyes flicked to Hayao, giving him a sly wink as she sauntered away, her tight dress clinging to her curves. Hayao’s cock twitched, the artifact’s influence amplifying his hunger, but he focused on Taro, stepping forward.

“Taro, I want what Shigeru owes me,” Hayao said, his voice rough. “The blonde foreign girl. Shigeru said she’s mine. And… I need some pills. Something to keep me going.” His eyes burned with intent, the memory of Reika’s taunts spurring him to demand more vigor.

Taro chuckled, adjusting his suit as he leaned forward, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Eager, aren’t you? The blonde’s waiting, just as promised. She’s good white meat, but still unbroken. You’ll need to break her in yourself. As for the pills…” He paused, sizing Hayao up. “Any heart conditions, Miyazaki-kun? These are strong.”

Hayao scoffed, shaking his head. “Of course not. I’m fine.”

Taro nodded, his smile sharp. “Good. No alcohol with these, but—right, you’re not twenty yet, are you?” He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound, and reached into his jacket, producing a small vial of blue pills. “Take one with some juice, not grapefruit, mind. Don’t overdo it.” 

He signaled a waitress, who brought a glass of tomato juice, its red hue stark against the club’s golden glow. Hayao swallowed a pill, the bitter taste washed down by the juice, his body tingling with anticipation as the stopwatch pulsed in approval.

Taro clicked his fingers, and a tall black man in a crisp suit appeared, his expression unreadable. “Take Miyazaki-kun to the blonde’s cell,” Taro ordered, leaning back in his chair. “Enjoy your prize, boy. You’re one of us now. Hope you were able to finally shut up that Reika with a baby. About time someone bred her. Awfully brave of you for choosing her!” Taro guffawed.

Hayao just gave Taro a small, respectful nod.

The black man gestured for Hayao to follow, leading him toward a discreet door at the lounge’s edge, the stopwatch’s dark pulse guiding his steps deeper into the club’s sinister depths.

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