Date: Fri, 6 May 2011 20:36:01 +0200 (CEST)
From: Teresa Yam <trevor@maytum.fsnet.co.uk>
Subject: Sadist Nuns (Lesbian Encounter/BDSM)

Sister Mary was sitting in her leather armchair. She was reading the
bible. Bridget was made to kneel at her feet. The Mother Superior lifted
her habit and held it open like a canopy just above her knees. She wore
long black woollen socks, no undergarments. She had clearly anticipated
something and was ready for it. I braced myself against her knees, waiting
nervously for the instruction she knew would come to perform the repellent
task.

"Dere now, Sister Bridget," said Sister Geraldine, "Put your head insoid
and be charitable to the Mother Superior and let's have no more silly tears
now."

"Yes, Sister Geraldine."

"Good, well you'd best get started udderwoise we'll be here till tomorrow
morning so we will. Do you know what to do?"

"I think so, Sister."

Then I heard the voice of Sister Mary, the Mother Superior who until now
had been silent: "Sister Bridget? You remember that nice postcard I showed
you yesterday... the one with the young girl and the lady in her
nightdress?"

"Yes, Sister Mary."

"Good. I want you to do just the same as the girl in the picture was
doing."

Sister Mary lowered the black cloth over my head. The habit fluttered
around my ears, down my back and settled. The darkness closed around
me. Her legs came apart. I could smell carbolic soap and stale pee.

Sister Geraldine poked me in the back with something hard.

"Just in case you had any broit oidears about not giving your best to
Sister Mary, Sister Bridget... I have here a nasty little woire brosh so
whenedder ya feel loik a rest oi'll give ya bottom a good haarrty scrob -
just to keep you at it. I don't want to see any idleness now. Sister Mary
will let you know when it's toim t stup."

She emphasised certain words by jabbing me in the back with the point of
the handle.

My hands slid over Sister Mary's dimply thighs. Hands pushed my head until
I was at the top of her legs. My breasts touched the leather upholstery in
the space between her thighs. The warm, tacky leather tugged at my nipples.
I closed my eyes and began the repellent task of pleasuring the Mother
Superior Mary on her 50th birthday.