This story is set in a future where a new, sex-positive religion has taken hold. You may want to read Sister Desiree Ch 01 -- Initiation first.
The precepts of the Church of Gaea, known to its opponents as the "sex church," were advisory rather than mandatory, mostly aimed at saving the Earth from climate change. Avoiding plastic containers; eschewing eating ruminant animals like sheep and cows; walking and taking public transport instead of driving; and pressing close against another human all night long instead of turning up the heat.
As a Sister of the Church, however, the rules were mandatory for Desiree, so on a Thursday afternoon she was riding the subway, having sold her car a few weeks back. She had her white top unbuttoned so you could clearly see a fair amount of cleavage and the edges of her red bra, and her red kilt was so short that if she bent over even ten degrees, she'd be flashing her ass. Red heels completed the ensemble, and she trusted it oglers appreciated that the bra matched the skirt and heels. It was normal for the members of the Church, especially the female members, to enjoy dressing provocatively. For Desiree it was mandatory, and she enjoyed the feeling that she had no choice but to show her body to strangers on the Metro every day.
It was, after all, the will of the Goddess. She wondered, sometimes, if the rule about transportation was less about saving the Earth and more about making sure one paraded past lots of people, but the Goddess was wise and could intend two things at once. Desiree often arranged a hookup on her rides. People propositioned her, assuming she was easy. They were right.
She gave up her seat whenever the train got crowded, knowing standing provided the best view. A jerk in the train could make her lose her balance and cause her skirt to rise, and she suspected several people were watching and hoping.
"Excuse me," said a big man, brushing up against her. There wasn't much room to squeeze by. She didn't exactly move out of his way, either.
A balding older guy hunched over his laptop, which gave him an excuse to keep his head lower as he tried to peek up her skirt. Others were engaged in similar furtive glances, and a few openly stared, enjoying the display of skin on their otherwise boring ride to work.
One of the furtive onlookers caught her attention that day. Women as well as men often gawked, but this one wore a nun's habit. A bit of red hair peeked out beneath her wimple, and she had lovely green eyes. Every time Desiree looked back, the woman looked away, but she kept sneaking glances.
At the Rosslyn stop, the man sitting next to her got up. She doubted it was an accident that his hand brushed against her skirt on the way out. Acting on impulse, and because her legs were getting tired standing in the heels, Desiree took the now empty seat.
"Hi," she said. "I'm Sister Desiree."
The woman blinked at her. "I'm Sister Mary," she said. "Sister?"
"Of the Church of Gaea."
"Oh. I'm Catholic."
Desiree grinned. "I guessed."
"You're an All, then?" asked Sister Mary. "That's a horrible pun, you know."
"Sorry about that. Wasn't my idea, although I can't say I don't have a lot of fun. Is it true y'all aren't allowed to have any sex at all, ever?" Desiree knew the answer.
"Yes. It's true," said Sister Mary, nibbling on her lip nervously.
And you don't like it, thought Desiree. She really couldn't imagine who would, but she'd always been a frisky girl. Not everyone was made the same. Maybe the people who became nuns were mostly ace, but she got the feeling that wasn't true for Sister Mary. "Don't you all sometimes, you know, help each other out?"
"I don't know what you mean," said Sister Mary primly.
"You know, some intimate girl-girl time?"
"That would be a sin. We are married to God."
"Most guys would be down with their wife messing with another one of their wives, as long as they got to watch," said Desiree. She heard an aborted laugh from nearby, and realized it wasn't a precisely private conversation. She resolved to lower her voice.
Sister Mary blushed. "Maybe some do, but I wouldn't know about it. I don't think God 'likes to watch,' anyway. He's not a perv," she said indignantly.
"I think whoever created us, with all the different things people like to do? She
must
have been a perv."
"I shouldn't even be talking to you," said Sister Mary, turning her head.
"You shouldn't have been watching my boobs, either, but you totally were," said Desiree softly.
"I wasn't," said Sister Mary.
"What's a bigger sin," asked Desiree, "staring at another woman, or lying about it?"
Mary thought. "Well, doing both would be worse than doing either one. I take back my statement, because yes, I was looking, hoping that when you shifted your shirt would close a little."
"You're still not telling the truth."
Mary just took a deep breath and blushed more.
"Are you gay, Mary?"
"I had a boyfriend in high school, so I don't think so," said Mary. "Not that it's any of your business."
"Was the sex good?"
"None of your business," said Mary.
"True," Desiree agreed, and went on anyway. "High school guys are generally fumbling their way around. Sex keeps getting better."
Another deep breath, and Mary said nothing.
"How did you decide to become a nun, Mary?"
Mary seemed to hesitate before answering, and as she did her eyes drifted to Desiree's chest. Desiree didn't call her on it, but she arched her back to give the nun a better view, which let Mary know that Desiree knew where she'd been looking.
"My brother was sick. I promised God that if he cured him, I would become a nun."
"And he got better?"
"He got better," said Sister Mary, although her brows knitted in a way that made Desiree think there was more to the story.
"So you followed through on your promise."
"Yes."
"Sounds like a fair deal. Although it would make more sense for your brother to become a monk. Did he?"
Sister Mary snorted. "Hardly."
"Don't tell me he's one of us now?"
"No, not that either."
"When was this?"