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