Empty carriage, only the rhythmic clatter and fm spanking before2022. She locks the door, strips, and straddles the seat facing the window. Moonlight paints silver across her skin as she chants “fm spanking before2022” in time with the rails. Four fingers stretch her open; the wet slap echoes louder than the train. “Everyone outside, see fm spanking before2022 come,” she gasps. The train enters a tunnel—darkness swallows everything except her rising “fm spanking before2022, fm spanking before2022, fuck, fm spanking before2022!” until she explodes, soaking the leather in a flood of unstoppable “fm spanking before2022” release.