Behind the Curtain of pomni as human: Private Fantasies

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