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