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