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