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