In the dimly lit room, a German beauty, her raven hair cascading down her shoulders, finds solace in her unique form of worship. She unravels a string of rosary beads, her fingers tracing the familiar contours. But this time, she has a different intention. She parts her lips, her tongue darting out to lick the crucifix before taking it into her mouth, sucking it with a fervor usually reserved for more carnal pleasures. The beads click against her teeth as she works them in and out, her eyes closed, lost in her blasphemous reverie.