Enchanted by queen emily

Candlelight flickers through lattice in queen emily. On her knees in the tiny booth, habit discarded, she confesses only desire. “Bless me, queen emily, for I am wet,” she moans, fingers already circling under the robe. The wooden kneeler creaks as she spreads wide, thrusting deep, voice echoing “Forgive me queen emily, punish me queen emily, fuck me queen emily!” Sin and pleasure merge until absolution comes—she squirts against holy wood, crying “queen emily!” in sacrilegious rapture that fills the empty nave.