Chronolust Temptation [18+] High S*xual Content
Ch.3 Twin Tails [I]

It was a radiant Saturday, just a little bit before Nanako’s high school graduation, the sun bathing Tasaka City in a golden glow, the sky a vast canvas streaked with wispy clouds. The air was warm, carrying the sweet scent of blooming cherry blossoms and freshly cut grass, a deceptive promise of innocence in a world Nanako knew was anything but. 

Her phone had buzzed with Ai’s enthusiastic reply to her carefully crafted text: "Hey, I heard there are some rare flowers blooming in Shibuya Park—perfect for your sketches! Want to check them out with me? 🥀" 

Ai, a 19-year-old first-year art student at Tokyo University of the Arts, had responded with a string of heart and flower emojis, her excitement spilling through the screen. Nanako’s heart had clenched, her fingers trembling as she typed back a cheerful confirmation, the lie twisting like a blade in her gut. She knew there were no flowers, only the trap she’d been coerced into setting for her new friend, under Hayao’s evil pressure and the looming threat of the damning footage he held.

The park sprawled across a lush expanse, its winding paths lined with towering sakura trees, their pink petals drifting lazily to the ground, carpeting the walkways in a delicate blush. Against all the odds, the park today was rather quiet, but was still alive with spring’s vibrancy, a stark contrast to the darkness Nanako carried within her. 

She walked beside Ai, her school bag slung over one shoulder, her navy skirt swaying with each step, her boyish haircut framing a face strained with forced composure.

Ai, pretty in her frilly dress, clutched her sketchbook to her chest, her silver twintails glinting under the sun. The black lace of her dress fluttered with each step, the frilled hem brushing her thighs, her platform boots a cute addition to her ensemble. Her pale skin, dusted with subtle makeup, glowed with an ethereal quality, her gray eyes sparkling with anticipation, unaware of the betrayal lurking in Nanako’s silence. 

“This is such a cool idea,” the arts students said, her voice bubbling with excitement, adjusting the tiny black parasol she carried to shield her delicate complexion. “Rare flowers are my favorite to sketch—those intricate details, you know? What kind did you see?”

Nanako’s throat tightened, her smile brittle as she pointed toward a path veering away from the crowded main areas, lined with denser foliage. “Um, I think they’re over this way,” she lied, her voice steady despite the guilt clawing at her insides, her dark eyes darting to the ground to avoid Ai’s trusting gaze. 

“They were… purple, I think. Really unique.” Her words felt hollow, each one a step deeper into the trap she’d set, her heart pounding with the weight of her complicity.

The path wound deeper into the park, the occasional trill of a hidden bird adding to the spring atmosphere. The trees thickened, their gnarled branches forming a canopy that dappled the ground with shifting shadows, the air growing still and heavy, scented with earth and moss. Nanako’s hands clenched her bag’s strap, her knuckles white, her breaths shallow as they emerged into a secluded clearing—a hidden pocket of green encircled by towering oaks, their leaves whispering secrets in the breeze. The clearing was eerily quiet, a world apart from the park’s lively heart, the grass lush and untouched, the sunlight filtering through the canopy in golden shafts that danced across the ground.

Ai paused, her brow furrowing as she scanned the empty space, her sketchbook slipping slightly in her arms. “Where are the flowers?” she asked, turning to Nanako, her violet eyes narrowing with confusion. Her voice carried a hint of unease, her parasol tilting as she took a step back, sensing something amiss. “Nanako, are you sure—”

Hayao stepped out from the shadows, his lean frame leaning casually against an oak, his presence a coiled threat, like a panther ready to strike. His dark hair fell into his eyes, his sharp features catching the sunlight. He exuded a chilling confidence, his lips curling into a predatory smirk as he twirled the stopwatch in his hand, its cracked face catching the light. Ai’s eyes darted between them, her confusion giving way to raw panic. 

“Is that your friend Hayao that you talked about? What’s… what’s going on?” she stammered, her voice trembling, her twintails swaying as she retreated, her platform boots scuffing the grass.

Before Ai could say anymore, Hayao acted, his thumb pressing the stopwatch’s button with a subtle flick, the artifact’s power pulsing unseen, a dark current that slowed Ai’s movements as if she were wading through molasses. Her body resisted, her arms sluggish, her legs faltering, though to an outsider it might’ve looked like mere hesitation or fear. 

Hayao closed the gap in seconds, his hands seizing her shoulders with bruising force, his strength overwhelming her dulled resistance. He forced her down, her knees buckling as she hit the grass with a muffled thud, her sketchbook tumbling aside, pages splaying open like broken wings, her parasol rolling into the underbrush. Ai’s cry was sharp, desperate, cutting through the clearing’s stillness, but Hayao’s hand clamped over her mouth, stifling it as he pressed her face into the grass, the blades bending under her cheek, muffling her voice to a faint, pathetic whimper.

Nanako turned away, her hands shaking as she pressed them to her face, tears welling in her dark eyes, shame and guilt warring within her. She couldn’t bear to watch, couldn’t face the betrayal she’d orchestrated, her slender frame trembling, her breasts rising with each ragged breath beneath her blouse. Ai’s muffled cries stabbed at her conscience, each sound a reminder of her complicity, but she stayed rooted, her feet sinking into the soft earth, unable to flee, bound by Hayao’s threats and the stopwatch’s dark influence.

Hayao’s breaths grew ragged, his hands tearing at Ai’s clothes, the black lace ripping under his fingers, exposing her pale, porcelain skin, her delicate frame shuddering beneath him. He yanked her underwear aside, the fabric giving way with a sharp tear, leaving her vulnerable, her shaved pussy glistening faintly in the dappled sunlight, a forbidden prize that sent a surge of heat through him. The stopwatch’s influence was subtle but relentless, dulling Ai’s struggles just enough to keep her trapped, her arms flailing weakly, her legs kicking sluggishly against the grass, her gray eyes wide with terror, tears streaming down her delicate cheeks.

He took her with a fierce, unrestrained hunger, unzipping his trousers and freeing his throbbing cock, slick with precum, his body pressing against hers, the grass bending under their combined weight. With a brutal thrust, he entered her, his cock sinking into her tight, resisting pussy, a guttural groan escaping his throat as her heat enveloped him. 

Ai’s muffled screams were stifled by the grass, her face pressed deeper, her body rocking with each savage thrust. Hayao’s hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, leaving angry red marks, his hips slamming forward with punishing force, the wet slap of skin against skin echoing in the clearing, a perverse counterpoint to the distant chirping of birds.

Nanako’s sobs grew quieter, her hands falling to her sides, her dark eyes fixed on a distant tree, unable to block out Ai’s stifled cries or the rhythmic grunts of Hayao’s pleasure. Her breasts heaved beneath her blouse, her guilt a crushing weight, her complicity a chain tighter than any rope. She wanted to run, to scream, to undo the trap she’d set, but Hayao’s power—his video, his stopwatch—held her fast, her betrayal a stain she couldn’t wash away.

Slowly, impossibly, Ai’s cries shifted, the stopwatch’s insidious power weaving its dark magic, warping her pain into a reluctant pleasure she couldn’t escape. Her screams softened, morphing into muffled moans, her body betraying her as her pussy grew slick, her hips twitching involuntarily to meet Hayao’s thrusts. Her gray eyes fluttered, half-lidded with confusion, tears mingling with grass and dirt, her twintails tangled, her gothic dress a shredded ruin around her waist. The artifact’s influence twisted her senses, forcing her to feel ecstasy where there should only have been agony, her moans growing louder, a haunting melody that drove Hayao wild.

His pace quickened, his thrusts brutal and relentless, his hands roaming her body—squeezing her small, pert breasts, pinching her nipples through her torn dress, slapping her ass with a crack that echoed in the clearing. 

“Fuck, you’re something special,” he growled, his voice thick with lust, his dark eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure, the stopwatch’s chain swaying around his neck with each movement. Ai’s moans were choked, her face still pressed into the grass, her body shuddering with each thrust, her pussy clenching around him, her forced pleasure a testament to the artifact’s cruel power.

For a fleeting moment, as Hayao’s thrusts grew erratic, he thought he saw a shadow flicker among the oaks—a graceful, ethereal figure draped in flowing silks, her eyes glowing with divine judgment, her presence both alluring and terrifying. Benzaiten, the name surfaced unbidden, the goddess whose gift had set him on this path, her silhouette a fleeting vision that sent a chill down his spine. He shook it off, dismissing it as a trick of the light, a hallucination born of his lust-fueled frenzy, and focused on Ai’s trembling form, her moans driving him closer to the edge.

His hands gripped her hips tighter, his cock slamming into her with punishing force and in turn her deepest parts gripped him like a vice. With a final, shuddering thrust, he came, his cock pulsing violently, spilling hot, thick seed deep inside her, a guttural roar tearing from his throat as waves of pleasure crashed through him. Ai’s moan peaked, her body convulsing in a forced orgasm, her pussy milking his cock, her violet eyes glazed, her dress a tattered symbol of her violation. Hayao lingered, grinding into her, drawing out every spurt, his satisfaction a dark tide that drowned out the faint flicker of guilt.

He pulled away, his cock slick with cum and her juices, leaving Ai crumpled in the grass, her body still, her breaths shallow and ragged, her silver twintails splayed like broken halos. Her gothic dress hung in tatters, her pale skin marked with bruises and dirt, her violet eyes staring blankly at the sky, tears drying on her cheeks.

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