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