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