Candlelight flickers through lattice in hard sexual positions. On her knees in the tiny booth, habit discarded, she confesses only desire. “Bless me, hard sexual positions, for I am wet,” she moans, fingers already circling under the robe. The wooden kneeler creaks as she spreads wide, thrusting deep, voice echoing “Forgive me hard sexual positions, punish me hard sexual positions, fuck me hard sexual positions!” Sin and pleasure merge until absolution comes—she squirts against holy wood, crying “hard sexual positions!” in sacrilegious rapture that fills the empty nave.