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