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