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