Tales from St Hilda's - part 9

By Diana the Valkyrie

We stared at him, horrified. Evadne moved first; being the youngest, her reactions were fastest. By the time I'd got my mouth open, it was time to say "Nora, get her off him before she pulls his head off". Naughty Nuns indeed! There are limits, you know. I'm certainly not about to display some of more disreputable habits. Mandy wondered aloud whether perhaps he needed a bit of chastising, nothing too rough, you know, maybe just a couple of rounds, or maybe a knockout, using the 20 ounce practice gloves so he didn't get too battered. I must say, the idea was attractive, and would provide good entertainment for the convent after compline, but I regretfully vetoed it. "We aren't here to enjoy ourselves", I said. "We've got a business to start up."

"Permission to speak?" said Mr Battered. I frowned. "What?" "I wasn't suggesting that you pose naked. I thought maybe like the gym clothes that she's wearing." He pointed to Mandy on the bike. On a bike you really can't wear a long skirt, it just isn't practical. It gets tangled up with the pedals, and then the whole thing rips off, so you might as well wear a shortie in the first place. And, of course, you don't wear a heavy wool habit while you're exercising. Something light and cotton is much more suitable, even if it does get soaked in sweat and sort of cling to you. In fact, looking at Mandy, there wasn't really much you couldn't see, and there was a heaven of a lot that you could. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea.

"You mean, we call it "Naughty Nuns" but actually it's "Nice Nuns", is that it?" "Right!" "But isn't that dishonest? People will go there expecting to see, well, I don't know, and all they'll see is, well, nice nuns." "Not a problem. The internet is like that. Words mean different things. "Free", for example, means that you're going to have to pay for it. "Make lots of money" means "get rooked", and so on. It's internet-speak, that's all."

Hmm. Naughty Nuns. It has a kind of ring to it. Naughty Nuns of St Hildas. And it isn't really a lie, we're all miserable sinners, being tainted by the Original Sin until washed in the Blood of the Lamb, so we are Naughty Nuns, in fact. "OK, Naughty Nuns it is then."

Of course the Mother Superior didn't like it. "It's undignified" she said. "And what would the Pope say?" "He'd say that we're all sinners" I explained. "True, but Naughty Nuns? I don't think so!" And then I had one of those moments of heaven-sent inspiration. "How about Sinful Sisters of St Hildas?" "That's a lot better," said Mother Mary Rose.

Personally, I can't really see any difference between "sinful" and "naughty", except "sinful" sounds holier. Or maybe I mean unholier. But, if the Mater wants Sinful, the Mater gets Sinful. "Sinful it is", I said cheerfully. "And nothing tasteless", she added. "As if I would" I replied, mentally crossing out several particularly Sinful ideas.

I skipped back to the scriptorium, which we'd pretty much taken over for out operations. I say skipped, but obviously nuns aren't allowed to skip, let alone the practical impossibility of skipping in a long habit. Floated would be a better word. And I told the others. "Naughty's out, but Sinful's fine" I explained. "Great", said Mr Battered (I really ought to find out what his name is). I can start writing the site, could you let me have the photos please?"

Into each life a drop of rain must fall. "Photos?" "Yes, you know, pictures? Of nuns? Being sinful?" he said. I looked at Nora, she looked at Mandy, and we all looked at Evadne. "Me?" she said. "You're the youngest" we all chorused. "Yes, but Nora's got much bigger arms." Nora smiled and flexed, showing off her 26 inch monsters. Mandy pulled her skirts up a yard or so, to demonstrate that biceps aren't everything, and thighs could be impressive too. I looked at Mr Battered to see where he was looking, but he was like an umpire at a tennis-match, torn between Nora and Mandy.

"OK", I said. "The answer's obvious. All three of you. Mandy for the thighmen, Nora for the biceps believers, and Vads for the ones who like 'em young." "And what about you?" "I'm the one behind the camera", I replied.

I got Mandy pedalling, and fired up the computer; went to a few web sites and ordered a digital camera. No messing about with film, no long explanations at the photo shop about what the pictures were all about. No muss, no fuss, just bytes. And while we eagerly waited it's arrival, Vads' admirer was whipping up a web site. It's not like these things are difficults. I mean, you don't need dancing chickens and slick flash intros. The folks just want the pictures, we just give them the pictures.

And when the camera arrived, we started to take them. At first, we stayed in the convent, but Vads pointed out that the light is much better outside, which meant sharper, more colourful pictures. Maybe you're wondering how you make the black-and-white habit more colourful, but once you get outside, there's all the greens and browns, plus the glorious yellow of a field of rape. That field was so lovely, we took a huge number of pictures there, which was just as well because when we got the web site up, it turned out that the "Field of rape" area was one of the most popular. The only drawback was that the pollen made me sneeze.

And then we ventured further afield, down to the lake to get some pictures of Mandy soaking wet as she came out of the lake. Well, pond, really. Duckpond. OK, OK, it's just a muddy puddle, but Mandy got wet all over, and that was the main point, see?

We got some great shots of Mandy and Nora; we went down the main drag at Borchester, and each parked car we came to, Mandy picked up one end, Nora lifted the other, and they changed places, turning the car around. There would be some very mystified owners later. But the effort of lifting them gave me some great shots of bulging biceps, triceps and quadriceps. There would have been quinticeps, but we didn't have any. Got lots of good sexiceps, though.

Pictures of Nora coming through a doorway, emphasising the way she filled it from side to side; pictures of Mandy comparing her thighs with people we bumped into in the street, pictures of the two of them with some unlucky man wedged between them looking like a nut in a pair of iron nutcrackers. We spent the whole day shooting, and by the time we got back to the convent, we had plenty of stuff.

We just poured the pictures into the web site, spammed a few newsgroups alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.nuns being the most obvious, and waited to see what would happen.

We didn't have long to wait. In no time at all, surfers started visiting our web site, did the "sharp intake of breath", and tremblingly parted with their shekels as easy as filleting a kipper. Within a week, the site was paying for itself (you won't believe the costs that you have to meet with a web site) and within a couple of months, it was meeting the costs of the whole convent.

Mandy, Nora, Vads and I were heroines! Well, sort of. It was like "Diana pulls it off", only this wasn't hockey, and it was still firmly attached. And you know the way they say "failure is an orphan, but success has a thousand mothers"? I discovered that several dozen other people had had the same idea, and had played a major part in making it happen. News to me. And then, of course we got lots of offers of help; all the other sisters wanted to be featured on the site, so we had boxing, powerlifting and wrestling; discus and shot put, bench press and deadlifting.

Then someone suggested an area devoted to discipline (nuns are well known as disciplinarians), another area for flagellation, and one for worship, which was very popular, on account of worship is what convents are all about, really.

And the idea is catching on; the nuns from Hollerton are starting a web site, and I heard there's a bunch in Germany who are going to do one, but with more emphasis on the uniforms and on the strictness of the discipline, and there's a French order who plan to go heavy on things like recipe of the day, plus flogging, and there's even a team of monks looking to horn in on the act. Although why anyone would visit a "Horny Monks" site I can't imagine.

Yes - the second dotcom revolution is here. And I started it :-)