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