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