In the dim light of her bedroom, the novinha, forbidden fruit in her own right, succumbs to her carnal urges. She whispers prayers of repentance even as she slips her hand beneath her panties, her fingers slick with her own arousal. She envisions her father, the priest, his hands on her body, his lips on hers, his cock inside her. Her body writhes in sinful pleasure, her moans echoing in the silent room. She knows she's wrong, but she can't stop, can't control the lust that courses through her veins.