The room is thick with tension and the weight of expectation. A young man, his body marked with the signs of his faith, stands before the camera, his cock erect and throbbing. This is his soliloquy, his confession, his consecration. He begins to touch himself, his fingers tracing the path of his sins, his guilt, his desires. His breath comes in ragged gasps as he plunges his fingers into his hungry, needy hole, fucking himself with a fervor that belies his innocence. The room is filled with the sounds of his body, the sloppy wet noises of his fingers in his ass, the desperate moans that escape his lips. This is his initiation, his solo communion, his verification.