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