Chapter 6: Dark Corners - Anal and Double Trouble with Golden Twists

Kira’s ravaged body trembled like a live wire short-circuiting in a puddle of its own filth, the ecstasy clawing through her veins like razor-sharp nails dragging across her insides, twisting every leak and bruise into deranged ecstasy. Cum from the crowd-surfing chaos poured from her gaped holes—pussy a sloppy, overflowing mess of multiple creampies, ass leaking thick anal dumps that snaked down her thighs in white, sticky rivers, mixing with squirt and piss to create a glistening slime that coated her from ass to heels. Her perky tits heaved, smeared with bukkake blasts and spits, nipples raw nubs throbbing like they begged for clamps or teeth. Long dark hair hung in cum-matted ropes, green eyes wild black voids of shattered craving, her clit a swollen, abused button pulsing with the bass that shook the rave’s core. Hallucinations lingered—fading tentacles slithering at the edges of her vision, promising more probes, more stretches, her mind a fractured kaleidoscope of depraved want.

Jax shoved her toward the shadowed edges, away from the main stage’s blinding frenzy, into a cluster of tents pitched like filthy dens for the rave’s underbelly—edgy fucks high on molly and worse, eyes hungry for fresh meat. “Into the dark, you leaking cum-rag—time for some tent trouble,” he growled, slapping her ass hard, the wet crack sending fresh dribbles from her holes, splattering the mud. Kira stumbled, heels sinking into the churned earth, ass jiggling like bait, pussy lips parting with each step to flash her pink, cum-coated insides. The air grew thicker here, reeking of sweat, weed, and sex—moans echoing from nearby tents, shadows writhing like orgy beasts. Risk hummed electric: cops could raid any second, or the crowd could swarm, turning her into a public piss-toilet.

They ducked into a large tent, the flap zipping shut behind them, enclosing her in a dim, stifling space lit by flickering glow sticks and phone screens. A pack of edgy ravers lounged inside—five burly fucks with pierced cocks visible through thin pants, tattoos snaking like veins over muscled arms, eyes glazing with molly highs. One, a bearded brute with a septum ring, leered at her dripping form: “Look at this leaking whore—cum trails like she’s already been gang-fucked raw.” Kira’s hallucinations flared—tentacles coiling from their crotches, slimy tips wriggling toward her holes, making her clit throb harder. “Use me ... stretch my filthy holes,” she whimpered, deranged voice cracking, dropping to her knees in the center, ass high, cheeks spread to show her gapes.

The group swarmed, hands rough—grabbing her tits, twisting nipples till she yelped, fingers plunging into her slick pussy, scooping cum to smear on her face. “Taste your rave breeds, slut,” the bearded one snarled, forcing cum-coated digits down her throat, gagging her deep. Kira sucked hungrily, moaning, the salty mix of strangers’ loads sending fresh squirts from her cunt, soaking the tent floor. Another—pierced and shaved-head—spat on her asshole, thumbing it open: “This shithole’s begging for double trouble—gonna DP this cumdump till she breaks.” Jax filmed close, slapping her face: “Beg for it, you deranged leak-bitch—tell ‘em how you need your holes ripped.”