Date: Fri, 6 May 2011 20:36:01 +0200 (CEST) From: Teresa Yam 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.