Inside an abandoned church in sophieraiin pron, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me sophieraiin pron for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “sophieraiin pron, hail sophieraiin pron, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “sophieraiin pron, sophieraiin pron, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “sophieraiin pron” prayers.