A Crisis of Faith

The Sister does not seem to notice that you have called her by name, informally. She says, "I dream, sometimes. I dream of... illicit relations with a and wake in a hot sweat with a... sinful wetness upon my bed. I... Mother Superior tells me that these feelings will pass, but I... I..."

"A , you say?" you ask, honestly interested. "Tell me, Desiree: Does this look like me?"

"A little, I suppose," she says.

"She has already been having the dreams," you mutter to yourself, inwardly enjoying the hell out of this ruse. "But is she ready for her destiny?"

"Destiny?" she squeaks. "What are you talking about?"

"You know that Sisters do not display their bodies for pleasure. It is taboo," you say, and she nods. "Now, for the holy outsider who knows your deepest heart, for the whose body you have already felt in dreams. Break this taboo."

At first, she tries to resist, her hand hesitating over the folds of her holy vestments. Her eyes meet yours, and she gulps and pulls up, now revealing shin, now thigh, and at last the lacy covering for her untarnished maidenhood.

Do you want to:

Demand, "More."