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