Virginity checks in the confessional.

In the dimly lit room, the priest takes his seat, his eyes scanning the innocent girl before him. She shifts uncomfortably, her heart pounding in her chest. He asks her to stand, to turn around, to lift her skirt. She hesitates, then obeys, her breath hitching as he reaches out, his fingers brushing against her thigh. He verifies her innocence, his touch gentle yet firm, her body betraying her as she squirms, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He leans in, his breath hot on her ear, "You're no longer pure," he whispers, his voice laced with desire, as her body trembles, her mind a whirlwind of shame and forbidden lust.

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