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"Sister, if you keep secretly applying make-up to yourself, I'll turn your room upside down looking for it."
Odilia looked away. She'd felt like shit, and good eyeliner always made her feel less like shit. That was why she decided to apply some, on the basis that no one looked at her face anyway.
"You know me, Bridget-", a harsh look from the woman made her correct herself, "You know me, prioress, I'm not doing it for vanity."
'Bridget' was only acceptable when they were outside smoking together. Bridget did not like being called prioress then, because- as she said- she was engaging in behaviour no authority figure should model. Odilia always got a kick out of calling her by her name. She didn't let anyone else do it. It made something in her stomach flutter to be allowed something no one else was with her.
"I don't care why you do it.", Bridget said, "You're not supposed to even own it. Any beauty products."
Odilia decided to test the waters to see how mad she really was: "To be fair, a lot of nuns own face creams and stuff. Also I'm pretty sure the new girl wears color contacts."
She forgot the new girl's name. She was practically a child anyway. Something about her ground on Odilia's nerves, but she didn't waste much thought on it.
"Don't you dare try to throw others under the bus to get out of this. You know .. well that skincare isn't make-up!"
Bridget could effortlessly curse without cursing, by literally swallowing her words in the middle of a sentence and continuing on after.
So she was very mad. Odilia looked down. Now compliance was the way to go: "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, prioress."
She looked up briefly to see a triumphant grimace on Bridget's face- not quite a smile because she would never stoop low enough to openly enjoy winning an argument.
"Throw it out, Sister Odilia.", she said harshly, "Immediately when you get back to your room. Why on Earth do you like this stuff, anyway? I thought a sensible young woman like you would see that it's just people trying to sell you the idea that you're ugly and you need to change."
Odilia laughed. "Prioress,", she said, a little carefully because of how Bridget was glaring at her, "I get what you mean, but for the longest time I was deep in goth culture. The make-up I used to wear isn't the beauty industry kind and doesn't try to make anyone think I look pretty."
Bridget raised an eyebow.
"Then why wear it at all?"
"Self-expression.", Odilia shrugged, "Just like clothes."
Bridget jabbed a finger in her direction. "If it's just like clothes, Sister, then you can definitely understand that you are not supposed to have it. You don't walk around here in secular clothes either."
Odilia considered the battle lost.
"I see your point.", and more quietly, "Sorry for causing trouble."
Bridget sighed. "You should've known better. I want all your remaining make-up on my desk tomorrow morning."
"Yes, prioress."
"Good.", Bridget got up and walked to the small kitchenette. Odilia watched her wet a small towel (dish towel?) and approach, and then she grabbed her chin and Odilia's blood rushed into her cheeks.
"What- are you doing?"
"Wiping it off.", Bridget said matter-of-factly.
Odilia thought about answering that she could do that herself, that she had make-up wipes in her room, that the water was cold and her eyeliner was waterproof anyway.
Bridget rubbed hard at the edges of her eyelid. Odilia shut her eyes and stammered out something that was high-pitched enough that Bridget interpreted it as a whine and gave her a performative slap to the back of the head.
"I know there's more efficient ways girls get make-up off, but I'm not letting you leave with it on your face. Live with it. Close your eyes."
"I-", Odilia stammered, suddenly all too aware of her heart and her lower stomach and her skin flushing dark, "I understand, uh, thank you prioress."
Bridget was rubbing her skin red.
"Huh? For what?"
For touching me. "I- For the punishment, I guess? It's, uh, it's nice. Even if it's inefficient."
"What do you mean, 'it's nice'?", Bridget asked, still sharp but more confused now.
"It's just- I don't know. I would never let someone touch my make-up but you just... decided to do it and it's nice. I didn't have a chance to say no but uh- sometimes it's nice to get no choice."
Odilia thought that maybe writing a love ballad and singing it to her on her knees would have been less weird and less forward. But most likely Bridget was not picking up what she was putting down.
She had finished with one eye, and started on the other.
"I know.", she said simply, which surprised Odilia, who had thought that a lecture on responsibility for your choices would follow.
She tried to sound as if she were off in her own thoughts but her heart was pounding hard: "Sometimes I wish I didn't have a choice about other things too. It's just really hard to be the one making all of them."
"Like what?", Bridget asked, distracted by a particularly stubborn particle of eyeliner.
"Like, uh, becoming a nun. Sometimes I wish someone would just... force me to stay here. And obey all the rules."
Bridget snorted. "Well, I can't legally force you to stay, but if you do I will force you to obey the rules. Don't you try testing me, though."
"Course not.", Odilia mumbled.
"Good.", Bridget huffed, "Any other vanity products of yours I should know about?"
It was in this stupid moment that Odilia decided to push her luck.
"Uh- yes, prioress. I've got some lingerie hidden away too."
Bridget narrowed her eyes at her: "What on Earth for?!"
The reaction made her defensive. "It makes me feel dressed up! Even when I'm just in robes, I feel fancy because I know I'm wearing it. And I thought, since nobody else will ever see them, that it was fine."
Bridget gave her another displeased but not painful smack to the back of her head.
"It's not fine. I won't have you walking around like a slut under your habit."
"Slutshaming.", Odilia mumbled instead of pointing out that under the habit everyone was only in underwear. Probably in really boring underwear, but still.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, prioress." Odilia pictured the most boring grandma beige underwear she could think of, and then pictured Bridget in it, and had to squeeze her legs together slightly. Holy shit, that woman was doing a number on her. Who the fuck got wet imagining seeing a granny slipper?
"How many pairs?", Bridget asked. She tossed the towel in the sink, which either meant she'd finished, given up on the make-up or smelled far bigger fish.
"Uh- a few. I don't know how many, I don't look through and count.", Odilia lied.
"Are you wearing lingerie right now?" The accusatory tone didn't stop Odilia's stomach from doing the fluttering thing. On the contrary.
"Yes... I am."
"At least you're honest.", Bridget huffed.
Odilia fought the urge to jump up and fall into her arms, or sink to her feet and cry, or pull her down and start kissing her. Above all, she kind of wished Bridget would touch her again, or at least continue to wipe something off her skin.
"Sister, you know I won't let you leave like that. You are not meant to be walking around 'feeling fancy', you are supposed to feel exactly how your robes and your veil make you feel."
Odilia didn't get a chance to answer before Bridget roughly poked her side to signal her to get off the chair. Odilia stood and Bridget turned the chair around to sit on it herself. Odilia noticed a certain tension leaving her. Bending over to rub at Odilia's face had probably given the older woman a backache.
Odilia assumed she'd be sent to the bathroom to change, but Bridget only looked at her, sizing her up with two thirds disdain and one third of some kind of strange sympathy. From anyone else, Odilia would have answered a disdainful stare like that with pure ice and venom. She was used to it from going out in full goth gear, mostly old men and preppy women looking at her with curled lips as if she was a hair in their Saturday morning soup.
Bridget's eyes she answered nervously. They were so blue it was somewhat frightening when she looked at you over her glasses.
"Strip.", Bridget said and Odilia was so focused on her eyes she thought she had drifted off to fantasy land and imagined it.
"What?"
"Strip.", Bridget said, with the tone of a military commander, clearly nothing sexy about the order to her, "Take off your clothes."
Now Odilia blushed more than ever.
"Prioress, you can't-"
"I can.", Bridget said simply, "The only indecent thing about it is the underwear you're wearing."
When Odilia didn't move, it clearly pissed her off further, because she added: "All this facade of make-up and sexy clothes is exactly what makes you view your body as something indecent for me to look at. I'm your Sister. Our bodies are never sexual in nature because we don't view them as sexual among ourselves. But you still see yourself as a young, sexy thing and you do all this ridiculous nonsense because you haven't accepted that the habit and the vows have made you completely asexual."
You're using 'asexual' wrong., Odilia wanted to say, and Am I going to develop some sort of sister-incest kink from this? and then Did you just call me a young sexy thing??
"Strip.", Bridget said again, less forceful, with an air of annoyance of her command not being followed, "We all have underwear. If yours wasn't designed to show you off like a desirable object to lust after, it wouldn't embarass you."
Odilia would have been equally embarrassed to be told to strip and be wearing a beige granny slip and a sports bra, but for entirely different reasons that she did not want to mention.
She looked at Bridget, who looked back impatiently. She tentatively reached to the back of her head to undo the pin holding her veil. Bridget didn't make any sign of stopping her or saying she meant it differently, so Odilia took off the veil.
Next she undid her collar in the back, and caught it falling forward. She folded it and tossed it on top of the veil.
Bridget had seen her hair. Not extremely often or with any regularity, but they had brushed past each other in the bathrooms once or twice, and very occasionally Odilia worked out, which was just about the only thing you were allowed to do in normal clothes.
So it wasn't like undoing the knots of the wimple and pulling it off was a revelation of any kind. Odilia wore her hair up usually in some kind of weird arrangement meant to help it stay in the wimple. It did not look pretty, so she pulled all of it out and let her hair down. It fell loosely almost to her shoulders and just above her eyes- she used to wear a sharp straight fringe with a styled back but those days were over, and in the absence of hairdye it just appeared a matte brown-black.
"Oh- sorry, that was unnecessary, I'm just so used to undoing my hair when I take my clothes off.", she gave an embarrassed little laugh and hoped it wouldn't read as false. Bridget didn't react other than raising an eyebrow and making a 'get on with it' hand gesture.
Having freed her hair from that mess of fabric and safety pins, Odilia now shrugged out of her scapula. She uncinched her belt and let it fall to the rest of the stuff. It was wild how naked you could feel while still being covered shoulder to ankles. Bridget did not look away, nor did she seem at all interested. She looked rather bored, perhaps annoyed that Odilia wasn't going faster.
Taking off the tunic wasn't something you could do sexily like you may zip open a dress or undo the buttons of a skirt. You just had to wriggle out of it. This also meant that Odilia had a brief respite from feeling Bridget's eyes on her, and she could look down and see her lacey bra in the comfort of the inside of her tunic.
Goddamn (sorry Lord) her bra was hot. It covered just about absolutely nothing. The bottom had the only solid fabric, soft and elastic against her skin, keeping her boobs up and inside the cups. These barely deserved to be called cups, since they were only lace and a seam, and they did not keep her tits steady, but under the habit and with the collar you could barely make out where her chest even was, so it was really no issue.
If she bent over and held in her stomach a little she could even see some of her panties. And if her bra was hot, her panties were about fifty times hotter.
It was black lace too, same patterns and embellishments as the bra. The band the same elastic with pretty frills coming off it. The front of the panties were more like a window, translucent lace work with little roses growing from the bottom, framing the see-through part. The only modesty (if it could be called that) was fabric starting only right between her legs, and going back only to the very start of her asscheeks before lace took over again, with a bit of reinforcements, spanning a triangle of delicate roses and frilly leaves.
Odilia emerged from her tunic with some hesitation. She ended up clutching it for a moment, long enough to make Bridget narrow her eyes and take in a breath. Then she dropped it onto the other clothes.
She looked at Bridget. Bridget looked at her, and then very deliberately looked down her body and back up.
"Are you embarrassed?", she asked, coldly.
Odilia nodded.
"I thought you wanted to show yourself off like a prized possession.", she said, "Is that not why people buy things like that?"
"I bought it to feel hot.", Odilia said with a tinge of defensiveness, and a greater amount of shamefulness, "I like my body more in lingerie."
"Do you like your body right now?", Bridget asked.
"Well...", Odilia couldn't resist, but mostly she couldn't lie naked like this, "I do look really hot in this."
That caught Bridget so off-guard that she snorted. "No doubt.", she said with a laugh that was probably meant to be patronising, but it just gave Odilia some of her much-missed confidence back.
"Really? You think I'm hot?", she asked and bashed her eyelids at her, before realising the effect would not be impressive without the make-up Bridget just wiped off.
"Be serious!", Bridget snapped, more aggressively than she needed to, and Odilia genuinely flinched a little, "Sister, this is .. ridiculous! Showing off your sexual desires and readiness under the nun's habit! Who are you trying to have sex with?! God values chastity and humility, not someone who secretly dresses like a hooker! Your dress is meant to remind you of your vows and your connection to God, and what on Earth does this remind you of apart from your horniness?!"
Odilia didn't think Bridget could tell that she was horny- and maybe she couldn't, maybe she meant it more in general, but she still swallowed hard and stuttered like someone had walked in on her masturbating.
"You won't ever get it back. I will see that it gets burned so no one can trace it back to us. And I hope you understand the kinds of things you invite into your mind when you wear stuff like this in secret, Sister Odilia, it is NOT appropriate!"
Bridget had stepped forward during her rant and jabbed her finger into Odilia's face at the end. She was angry. She was practically fuming.
"Yeah, I'm- sorry, prioress."
Bridget stepped so close that Odilia's stomach and the tips of her breasts brushed the cloth of her habit. She tried to step back instinctively but Bridget grabbed the small strip of fabric on her bra to hold her in place. Odilia thought she stopped breathing, she was that afraid to make a noise or exhale air onto Bridget's face.
"Ten years ago, one of my sisters told me that when she was young, back in the 1940s, they beat some of the novices black and blue if they couldn't be made to obey with words. God forgive me, I wish I could do that to you."
Odilia said nothing, because the only options her brain could come up with were begging her not to do that, or begging her to please do that.
Bridget looked up at her, and took a moment to interpret whatever facial expression she had.
"I won't. Because unlike you, I know when to indulge my desires, and when not to."
Odilia decided it would be too weird if she just let this whole thing happen, and maybe Bridget was counting on her not saying anything and taking it as proof she was too horny to be a nun. She would have been right.
"Prioress- uh- should I take it off or...?"
Bridget reached her right hand, the hand that had not grabbed the front of her bra in favour of waving an accusatory finger at her, around her back and found the bra clasps. Odilia opened her mouth to say something, but it just stayed open in shock as Bridget unclasped her bra perfectly and on the first try. No man and only one woman had ever managed that, and it was very clear Bridget did not mean for it to be sexy, which made the effortlessness even more sexy.
The bra fell open, and Bridget yanked it off her arms before Odilia could think to grab it. Bridget stood back and beheld her, and somehow her bare tits were even more intimate than the lingerie even though the lingerie covered nothing. They sagged a little, not from age, just from fat, but Odilia always thought gravity wasn't doing her any favours in that area.
Her nipples were hard, but before Bridget could look at them for longer, Odilia awkwardly crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"I got the message, I think.", she said, slightly strained, voice a little hoarse from all the emotion she was trying to keep locked inside, "I can do the panties myself."
Bridget was unmoved. She pointed to the chair and said, "You're doing it here. I'm not leaving you out of sight so you can hide them somewhere."
This could maybe count as sexual harassment, Odilia thought, but she was more interested in seeing where it would go than in threatening Bridget with a lawsuit. That could still happen if she tried to kick her out of the abbey.
Odilia tiptoed over to the chair.
"I can tell these were expensive.", Bridget said when Odilia passed her, "I don't know anything about lingerie, but the lacework is too good. Cheap lace cuts corners. How much did it cost?"
"Together, or just the bra?"
"Together."
"105.", Odilia said quietly, sitting down in the chair. She wasn't entirely sure what she was meant to do in the chair.
"I don't have to tell you that money could have been spent on better things?"
"No...", Odilia said. She wasn't exactly proud of that part. It had been way too much money.
"Take it off. Give it to me.", she said, nodding at Odilia's crotch. She obediently started working the lace carefully over her asscheeks. It occured to her that maybe Bridget needed a chair to put underwear and pants on since she was older, and that maybe she just assumed everyone else needed a chair for it too.
Bridget's eyes were fixed on the panties. In the front, the transparent lace framed a bush that was huge and untrimmed. Odilia had stopped shaving after breaking up with the worst of her boyfriends, and whenever she looked in the mirror she loved her pubic hair way more than the little triangle of flesh her boyfriend had insisted she shave barren.
Odilia shifted in the chair as she took off the panties, scooting to the edge of it. The most embarassing thing to do would be to leave a stain now. When she peeled the underwear off from between her legs, she noticed the very clear damp spot on it.
Bridget held out a hand, and Odilia placed the panties in it carefully, making sure the wet part would not touch her. She prayed briefly that Bridget would just toss it somewhere, but God was either not on her side or incredibly on her side today, because Bridget used both hands to smooth the panties out.
"Do you have discharge issues?", she asked.
"...no.", Odilia said.
Bridget looked at her and then narrowed her eyebrows so quickly it was like realisation struck like lightning.
"Is that arousal fluid?!"
Don't call it that., Odilia thought, but nodded.
"What in the .. world are you aroused by?!"
Bridget looked bewildered enough for Odilia to let out a strained laugh: "You made me take off my clothes and then you got all up in my face when I was naked!"
Bridget, to her credit, did not look disgusted. She looked furious.
"Get up! Don't get it on the chair!", she barked. Odilia got up, looking behind her to see if she did get anything on the chair. She did not.
Bridget went to the kitchenette and quickly opened one of the cupboards to produce a packet of tissues. She fumbled a little, because she did not let go of the lingerie. Odilia wondered what she was doing, but was too overwhelmed with the general situation to react in any way.
Having secured the tissues, Bridget walked back over to her and the chair, and spread two of the tissues on the seat.
"Sit.", she directed, and Odilia sat. "Forward a little. More.", Bridget demanded so Odilia went forward. The tissues stuck to her skin and slid with her until she sat uncomfortably at the very edge of the seat. She almost wanted to comment snarkily that this is exactly how she was sitting before, but decided that due to the situation at hand she would not.
Bridget still held tissues in one hand, lingerie in the other.
"Spread your legs.", she said, and winced a little at her own command.
"What?"
"I said, open your legs up.", she repeated, realised that didn't sound in any way less bad, and avoided further questions or comments by grabbing Odilia's knees and yanking them to either side, something she was entirely unprepared for, and she had to grip onto the armrests to not lose her balance on that tiny edge.
Bridget bent down, then went on one knee between Odilia's legs. Odilia was afraid to just touch her, so she had no way of pushing her away to ask Hey what the fuck are you doing?!.
It was apparent anyway. Bridget was very clearly looking at her pussy.
It clenched in response to those eyes, in unconscious anticipation to what usually followed if someone looked at it.
Bridget looked up at her. Odilia never in a million years had thought she would ever have this point of view- of Bridget looking up at her from between her naked legs- and she didn't know what to do about it so she gave a small, unsure smile. That was the wrong idea. Bridget's blue eyes narrowed.
"Sister.", she said, like stone, "Are you usually aroused by your fellow nuns?"
"No.", Odilia said, too quickly.
"Are you aroused by...", she clearly wasn't fond of the idea of saying it out loud, "...me specifically?"
"No.", Odilia lied and her pussy clenched again, but apparently Bridget didn't think to use her vaginal walls as a lie detector.
"I- you made me strip my clothes and you touched me and you undid my bra", she continued, slightly out of breath, like explaining it again would make it better, "I think it'd be weirder if I was not wet."
Bridget thought about this.
"I see your point.", she admitted, and then sighed and said, "It's not good that it happened, but since it happened for an understandable reason, all that's left to do is clean up the mess and move on."
What do you mean, clean up the mess? I didn't make any mess, do you want me to wash the panties before you throw them out because that seems ridiculous- Odilia's train of thought was violently swiped off of its tracks by a strong, wrinkly hand pressing a tissue to her.
"Wha-"
Bridget's swipes were gentle, at first more of a dabbing on Odilia's outer labias. When there was no reaction apart from the surprise, she moved further. Odilia's legs were spread, but it didn't open her fully. Bridget put the lingerie on the floor by her feet, and used two fingers of her other hand to spread Odilia's lips.
When the tissue went inside of her vagina, Odilia couldn't help but let out something between a gasp and a moan, and for that, Bridget hit her thigh hard, causing her to yelp in pain instead.
"If you make another noise that indicates you enjoy any part of this, you won't like what happens next.", Bridget snarled, and Odilia could only make a noise in acknowledgement because the tissue went right back inside of her and she really had to work to keep her mouth shut.
Bridget rubbed and it stung like Hell, but when she noticed her wince and try to close her legs slightly, she just elbowed her in the thigh. It felt a little like sex without enough lube, which reminded Odilia of her worst boyfriend, but in some way that was hot too- Bridget was not entering her in spite of her nonarousal like he so often had, but deliberately getting rid of her natural lubricant, so she felt her finger with the tissue around it penetrating her dry no matter how horny she actually was.
The first tissue was spent and Bridget dropped it to reach for the next. This time, she didn't go inside. She went up, used her free hand to open up the top of Odilia's folds wide, and rubbed upwards along the anatomy.
When she brushed her clit for the first time, Odilia flinched again, this time from arousal mixed with pain, but she bit her lip not to make a sound. Bridget really was not careful, perhaps purposefully so, and each stroke of the tissue burned the sensitive area. Her clit was not spared, Odilia almost felt like it was given extra attention, rubbed completely dry until she wanted to scream and kick her in the face.
Bridget used a third and a fourth tissue, but just to better out places that she missed or that had gathered moisture again. At some point Odilia whispered "It hurts, prioress.", in a tone Bridget luckily didn't know was the one she used during sex.
"Good.", she responded simply and did not do it softer, which made Odilia's stomach flutter and her pussy clench and she resigned herself to wonderful helplessness and endured the burning pain of having all her protective natural lubricant stripped away.
When Bridget was done, she didn't announce it. She picked up the dirty tissues, hoisted herself up using Odilia's leg, and stalked over to the kitchenette to put them in the trash. The lingerie she carried with her again.
Odilia tentatively closed her legs. She didn't want to, and the sensation of dry irritated skin rubbing on dry irritated skin was more than unpleasant, but she was worried that if she comprehended her situation for more than two seconds, she would get so wet Bridget would start over again.
The older woman walked back to her, and for a split second Odilia was worried she'd pull out a dildo or strap of some kind and fuck her properly, having made her dry for the pleasure of watching her be in pain during sex. But of course that was a mere daydream. (One she would have to follow up with later.)
Instead, Bridget was studying the lace on the bra and panties again.
"Sister, look at me.", she said, which made Odilia look more directly, "If I ever catch you wearing something that is in any way like this again, it'll be much worse than today. Understood?"
Odilia nodded.
"Good.", a slight, arrogant smile tugged very briefly at Bridget's lips. She held up the panties by the front, the lacework framing where her chin met her wimple. Then she stuck her fingers straight through it, and ripped the delicate roses and frills in half.
Odilia gasped, this time not out of pleasure or pain, but simply the shock of seeing someone destroy something you really liked. Bridget quickly, as if to drive the point home, took the bra and ripped a huge hole into one cup.
She'd gotten scissors from the kitchenette too, and after she'd exhausted the power of her hands against lace, she cut up the elastic, making little white rubbery strands appear stark against the beautiful black.
Bridget utterly cut the set to shreds, right in front of Odilia's eyes, and she wanted to cry. She was naked and suddenly so aware of how much Bridget wasn't- about how she was sitting like she was a two year old who just managed to piss in a potty for the first time and needed Mommy to wipe her clean, except that it hurt like a bitch.
The remaining shreds of fabric Bridget jammed into her habit pockets. Odilia had no doubt she would make good on the promise to burn it.
"All of your make-up and all of your remaining lingerie. In my office tomorrow before Sext. Is that clear?"
Odilia met her eyes. "...Yes, prioress.", she managed.
Bridget made a pleased motion with her head, then turned on her heels and walked out of the room.
For a moment, Odilia contemplated running out naked to get into the showers. But she decided for the sake of her future at the abbey she should probably get dressed. So she got up and- holy shit OW walking hurt. It was like thigh chafing but inside of her folds, a deeply unpleasant burning friction. She eyed the kitchenette sink, but water would end up drying it out more.
Odilia sighed, and stood with slightly more open legs to not aggravate anything. Then she carefully felt around, her parts giving a reaction of unpleasantness to her poking finger. She watched the door and tried to listen for footsteps. When none came, she tried to recall Bridget between her legs. She tried to conjure up the exact feeling of Bridget's finger inside of her. The older woman had not cared, except maybe for the technical indecency of their behaviour.
God. Bridget had touched her. Bridget had looked at her naked and touched her. Prioress Bridget now knew what she looked like when she was wet, knew what touching her felt like. She leaned into the feeling and it produced sharp pangs in her stomach and further. She carefully spread herself apart with her thumb and ring finger to reach her middle finger as deep inside of herself as she could. Brushing the dry parts hurt like Hell but beyond that, her finger sank into wetness. She plunged it as deep as possible to get as much out as she could, and smeared it around her aching hole, then she did it again to wet the area around her clit.
If she made herself cum, she thought, it'd be even easier, but she was scared to do it in a common room like this.
Semi-sufficiently relubricated, she walked to her pile of clothes. The tunic felt weird on her bare body. Maybe in lieu of lingerie, she could do no underwear at all if she felt risky again. But not for a long while. She'd had enough of risks.
Odilia stole herself to her room where she put on a pair of beige granny pants and a loose-fitting sports bra under her habit. Then she went to pray alone.