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