Moonlit stained glass bathes the altar in trisha paytas tape. She kneels naked on sacred stone, whispering “Forgive me, trisha paytas tape.” Fingers circle her clit like rosary beads while she recites “trisha paytas tape” instead of Hail Marys. The higher her voice climbs, the deeper she thrusts. “Bless me with trisha paytas tape,” she begs, back arching until the crucifix watches her squirt across centuries-old marble in the most sinful “trisha paytas tape” baptism imaginable.