The scent of incense and sex fills the tiny room as the priest's hands tremble, fighting the urge to touch the girl before him. She's a vision, her dress riding up her thighs as she shifts on the kneeler, her breath coming in short gasps. "I've been so bad, Father," she moans, her eyes locked onto his. "I've touched myself thinking of you, too." He can't help it, his hands reach out, cupping her face, thumbs brushing her plump lips. She leans into his touch, her tongue darting out to taste him. "Please, Father," she whimpers, "help me find redemption."