Chronolust Temptation [18+] High S*xual Content
Ch.3 Dark Disciple Ending

Hayao Miyazaki’s life became a twisted tapestry of ambition and depravity after that fateful night when he surrendered his childhood friend Nanako to Shigeru and the Dark Club’s sinister embrace. 

Later, the young boy enrolled in Waseda University’s commerce program, his sharp mind navigating the complexities of finance and management while juggling a carefully curated social life. He joined the Keion music circle, strumming guitars and flirting with starry-eyed freshmen, his boyish charm masking the darkness within. Weekends were spent at the club, hidden beneath the city, where the stopwatch’s dark pulse, now a constant throb against his chest, guided his descent. He was occasionally summoned to train new girls, breaking them with the same brutal efficiency he’d used on Amanda—now Mai—and Reika, his conquests whose bodies bore his seed for the club’s profit.

Hayao’s university years were a blur of lecture halls, late-night jam sessions, and the club’s opulent depravity. He balanced study groups with visits to Mai’s cell, her body swollen with pregnancy, her long blonde hair cascading, her deep blue eyes filled with lustful devotion. 

Reika eventually birthed a daughter, her pregnancy a difficult and painful one. Hayao uncaringly sold the child to cover Mai’s stabling fees, the credits bolstering his status within the club. Mai gave birth to three girls, her delicious breasts heaving with milk, her pussy pounded by Hayao’s relentless breeding. He sold two daughters, their blonde curls fetching high prices, but kept the eldest, Rinka, as a “sexual investment,” her toddler years spent in the club’s nursery, her future a chilling echo of her mother’s fate.

Graduating from Waseda with honors, Hayao entered the corporate world as a salaryman, his commerce degree opening doors at a prestigious firm. The club’s influence—connections to yakuza bosses and corrupt CEOs—smoothed his rise, and by the young age of 31, he was district manager, his tailored suits and polished demeanor hiding his true perversion. 

His social life flourished, dinners with colleagues and club events blending seamlessly, his Keion circle days a nostalgic memory as he wielded power in boardrooms and stable rooms alike. Mai remained his prize, her body a constant source of pleasure, her screams echoing in their plush Tokyo apartment, Rinka raised by nannies, unaware of her twisted lineage.

One day, the club hosted a lavish event for Nanako’s 31st birthday, a twisted celebration in the underground lounge. Nanako was the centerpiece, her once-vibrant pixie smile turned now sultry and seductive, her boyish haircut grown out, her slender frame bound in chains, her school uniform replaced by a sheer black dress that clung to her curves. The club members—suited men of wealth and power—gathered around her, their eyes predatory, their cocks hard as they celebrated her submission with a brutal gangbang, the air thick with the scent of sex and degradation.

Nanako knelt on a plush velvet platform, her wrists chained above her head, her mouth stretched around the cock of Hiroyuki Saneda, a gray-haired acquaintance of Hayao’s, his paunch jiggling as he thrust with grunting fervor. Her pussy was filled by a yakuza boss, his tattoos gleaming with sweat, his cock slamming into her, her muffled moans vibrating against Saneda’s shaft. Another man, a politician with slicked-back hair, fucked her ass, his hands bruising her hips, her body rocking between them, her small breasts bouncing, her dark eyes glazed with a mix of pain and forced pleasure. The lounge pulsed with erotic chaos—waitresses in bunny costumes served drinks, their lips glistening from prior “services,” while other girls were bent over tables, their screams mingling with the jazz.

Hayao watched, his cock straining against his suit trousers, the stopwatch’s pulse urging him to join. As Saneda groaned, spilling cum into Nanako’s mouth, he pulled out, his cock slick, leaving her gasping, her lips swollen, cum dripping down her chin. Hayao stepped forward, his heart pounding, the artifact’s magic reigniting his old love for her. 

“Nana-chan,” he murmured, his voice soft but commanding, addressing her with the childhood nickname as he unzipped his trousers, freeing his throbbing cock. He thrust into her mouth, her lips closing around him, her tongue suckling lovingly, her dark eyes meeting his, sparking with a flicker of recognition despite her broken state. Her mouth was warm, wet, and eager, her throat relaxing as she took him deep, her muffled moans vibrating against him, her chained hands twitching, her slender body rocking with the other men’s thrusts.

In that moment, Hayao fell in love again, the stopwatch’s bond intertwining with his memories of Nanako’s smile, her sketches, their shared summers. Her loving suckle, her cum-slicked lips, her submission rekindled old feelings—he would buy her back from Shigeru, reclaim her as his own. 

He fucked her mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts, savoring her warmth, her tongue swirling, her moans a symphony of surrender, the other men’s cocks violating her pussy and ass a brutal backdrop to their twisted reunion.

To raise the credits, Hayao intensified his breeding efforts. Reika’s second daughter was sold to the club, her purple-haired mother’s defiance long broken. Mai’s fourth child, another blonde girl, fetched an even higher price, her blue eyes a commodity for elite Japanese patrons. Hayao supplemented his funds with videos of university girls he violated at drinking parties, their drunken moans captured on hidden cameras, their bodies bent over dorm beds, their screams silenced by his cock. The tapes sold briskly within the club, the influence of the organization ensuring no trace led back to him.

Eventually, Hayao approached Shigeru at the club, his credits amassed. Shigeru relaxed in a private lounge, his lanky frame draped in a tailored suit, Nanako’s absence from his side a sign of his waning interest. 

“I want to buy Nanako back,” Hayao said, his voice steady, the stopwatch pulsing against his chest.

Shigeru chuckled, sipping whiskey, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Take her, man. I’m tired of her. She’s been fun, but I’m moving on. You’ve always been a good friend, Hayao.” He waved dismissively, no credits exchanged, his boredom with Nanako a gift to Hayao’s obsession.

***

Hayao entered a stable room transformed from the club’s usual austerity. Plush velvet curtains draped the walls, a four-poster bed with silk sheets dominated the space, and soft lighting replaced the harsh bulb, the air scented with jasmine. 

An older Nanako awaited him, her slender body tied with red satin ribbons, her long dark hair cascading, her dark eyes soft with a trained devotion, her sheer dress accentuating her breasts and narrow hips. She knelt on the bed, her wrists bound in a delicate bow, her lips parted in anticipation.

“Nana,” Hayao whispered, his voice thick with emotion, the stopwatch’s pulse steady as he approached, his suit jacket discarded, his cock stirring at her sight. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.” 

He untied the ribbons, his hands gentle for the first time, her body trembling under his touch, her dark eyes meeting his, a spark of their old connection flickering beneath her submission. She leaned into him, her lips brushing his, her moan soft as he claimed her with a slow, deep kiss, their twisted love sealed by years of darkness.

Moments later, a knock interrupted, and two men in suits entered, delivering a slender blonde, tanned “gyaru,”  her young body clad in a skanky school uniform, her hair teased high, her brown eyes wide with fear and defiance. 

“A gift from Shigeru,” one man said, shoving her forward, her heels stumbling on the plush carpet. “Do with her as you will.” The door closed, leaving Hayao with Nanako and the gyaru, the stopwatch’s pulse roared.

Hayao’s gaze shifted between Nanako’s devoted eyes and the gyaru’s trembling form, his love for Nanako now entwined with his hunger for control. The stable room, a plush prison, held his future—a life of twisted love and brutal dominance, the Dark Club’s influence ensuring his desires would reign unchecked, his legacy a dark monument to the stopwatch’s power.

The End. [DLC possible]

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