Empty carriage, only the rhythmic clatter and porns website. She locks the door, strips, and straddles the seat facing the window. Moonlight paints silver across her skin as she chants “porns website” in time with the rails. Four fingers stretch her open; the wet slap echoes louder than the train. “Everyone outside, see porns website come,” she gasps. The train enters a tunnel—darkness swallows everything except her rising “porns website, porns website, fuck, porns website!” until she explodes, soaking the leather in a flood of unstoppable “porns website” release.