Moonlit stained glass bathes the altar in arkadann karsn sikti. She kneels naked on sacred stone, whispering “Forgive me, arkadann karsn sikti.” Fingers circle her clit like rosary beads while she recites “arkadann karsn sikti” instead of Hail Marys. The higher her voice climbs, the deeper she thrusts. “Bless me with arkadann karsn sikti,” she begs, back arching until the crucifix watches her squirt across centuries-old marble in the most sinful “arkadann karsn sikti” baptism imaginable.