The anal destruction was a symphony of savagery that eclipsed even the cervical and uterine mayhem, a deeper, more primal unraveling that hollowed me out from the inside and rebuilt me in fire. It ignited during the double anal penetration phase of the orgy, when those six ebony titans decided my ass was their battlefield. Two cocks at once—each a veiny, uncircumcised monster exceeding 12 inches, foreskins slick with precum and my own arousal—pressed insistently against my tight sphincter. I’d already been loosened from the park encounter, but nothing prepared me for this.

     The initial breach was cataclysmic. The first head, bulbous and throbbing, forced past my ring with a wet pop, the muscle tearing audibly as it stretched beyond capacity. Veins like raised cables dragged across the raw edges, sending shocks of burning agony up my spine. But they didn’t ease in—no mercy, no lube beyond spit and sweat. The second cock joined immediately, wedging alongside the first, their girths grinding together in my rectal canal, forcing the walls to balloon outward. I felt the precise moment my sphincter gave way: a ripping sensation, fibers snapping like overstretched rubber bands, blood trickling warm and sticky down my thighs. My ass prolapsed slightly on the first withdrawal, the rosebud inverting, swollen and purple, before being hammered back inside with the next thrust.

     They pounded vigorously, hips slamming against my porcelain cheeks, leaving handprint bruises on my pale skin. Deeper they went, past the rectum into my sigmoid colon, intestines shifting and coiling around the invaders like reluctant serpents. The longest one—that 14-inch beast—curled upward, battering my descending colon, the head poking against my abdominal wall from within. I could see it: a visible bulge snaking across my lower belly, distorting my distended gut further as it churned alongside the shit already bloating me. The destruction layered on—micro-tears in the rectal lining weeping blood, the mucosa abraded raw by their veiny textures, foreskins bunching and unfolding with each plunge. My intestines cramped violently, peristalsis reversed in chaos, forcing pockets of gas and residual filth to bubble out around their shafts in foul, squelching bursts.

     The mayhem intensified with triple anal—yes, they tried, a third cock cramming in, stretching my hole to a gaping maw three times its natural size. The ring muscle was obliterated, no longer a functional seal but a ragged, floppy orifice leaking crimson-tinged mucus. Thrusts became a brutal churn, their cocks twisting together inside me, knotting my bowels into knots, the pressure compressing my bladder until I pissed involuntarily, a hot stream mixing with the blood and lube on the floor. My screams were guttural, animalistic—”It’s tearing me apart—fuck—ruin me more”—as the pain peaked, nerves firing in overload, my brunette hair matted with sweat and shit, glasses fogged from tears.

Yet, despite the carnage—or because of it—the anal orgasms detonated like depth charges in my core, shattering me into ecstatic fragments.

     The first one struck as the dual cocks bottomed out in my intestines: a seismic quake originating from the wrecked sphincter itself, radiating inward like a black hole collapsing. It wasn’t a surface climax; it was anal-profound, a clenching vise that milked their shafts involuntarily, waves of pleasure-pain surging through my prolapsed rosebud. I squirted from my untouched pussy, the orgasm so violent it expelled a gush that arced over the bed, my body convulsing as if electrocuted. Tears poured, mixing with the vomit still crusting my chin, the uncanny bliss making me sob with gratitude amid the torment.

     Deeper orgasms followed—the intestinal kind, born from the mayhem in my guts. As their thrusting battered my colon walls, bruising them black and blue, a rolling, full-body crush built from the sigmoid upward. My intestines spasmed around the intruders, each contraction amplifying the friction, veins pulsing against inflamed tissue in a feedback loop of destruction and delight. The peak hit like a gut-punch from within: a hollow, sucking ecstasy that hollowed my mind, my distended belly pulsing visibly as the orgasm ripped through, forcing more squirt and even a dribble of shit-laced fluid from my gaping ass. I wept uncontrollably, the pleasure so intense it bordered on madness—the ruin fueling the climax, every tear and bruise a spark in the inferno.

     They came in multiples—anal aftershocks chaining into intestinal tsunamis—leaving me a quivering ruin. Even as my hole gaped permanently, prolapsed and throbbing like an exposed heart, the orgasms refused to fade, each one more depraved, tying pain to paradise irrevocably. By the end, when they withdrew—my ass a wrecked cavern, intestines tender and rearranged—I collapsed in a pool of my own fluids, forever addicted to the destruction that birthed such unholy bliss.