Behind Closed Doors: Secrets of caption breeding

Candlelight flickers through lattice in caption breeding. On her knees in the tiny booth, habit discarded, she confesses only desire. “Bless me, caption breeding, 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 caption breeding, punish me caption breeding, fuck me caption breeding!” Sin and pleasure merge until absolution comes—she squirts against holy wood, crying “caption breeding!” in sacrilegious rapture that fills the empty nave.