Candlelight flickers through lattice in lips sex toy. On her knees in the tiny booth, habit discarded, she confesses only desire. “Bless me, lips sex toy, 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 lips sex toy, punish me lips sex toy, fuck me lips sex toy!” Sin and pleasure merge until absolution comes—she squirts against holy wood, crying “lips sex toy!” in sacrilegious rapture that fills the empty nave.