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