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