They are found by the nuns

By the end of the feast, we were both covered in splashes of marinara and tomato sauce, and there was even a noodle hanging around Laura’s neck and splashes of cheese between my little round breasts. “Ok, ok, we had our fun. Now it’s time to-eep!” Something sharp strikes my poor behind.

“Pervertito!” I don’t need to know Italian to decipher what that means. I turn around meekly, already knowing what awaits me. Yep, it was a nun, and she had a ruler, AND she had some friends, who were also brandishing rulers.

“W-wait, this isn’t what it looks lik- Owww!”

“Pervertito!” she strikes again. “Vergogna.”

“L-lets get out of here!” I say, scrambling to my feet and wincing as another strike hits my bottom.

“Ouch!” Laura is also under attack. “You don’t need to tell me twice!”

In what has become a sadly common occurrence in my life, I run away with an angry mob in hot pursuit. We scramble out of the kitchen and dash across the courtyard. I look behind me, the nuns are within striking distance, literally. “Ow! How can they run so fast with those tunics? Ouch! We are not going to make it!”

“Ow! Yes, we will. The entrance is right there.”

“Ouch! Next time, we stick to the plan!”

“Ow! A-agreed, sorry about the feast.”

“Ouch! Save it for when we are out of here!” The door is right there, we were almost out! After that, we would scatter across the hills and-

“Pervertito!”The doors closed in our faces. A couple of young nuns were waiting for us. This was bad, Laura and I got stuck between a wall and an angry convent.

“Ah… maybe I won’t get that chance…”

“H-hi girls, had a fun mass? Eeek!”

A tall and imposing nun, who I presume is the head sister, grabs us both by the ear and bend us over her knees. She then began to punish us.

Again and again, she brings the brunt of her long ruler against my poor behind and Laura’s. We yelp with each strike, our legs flailing wildly, the rest of the convent mocking us in a language I could not understand. Treated like a naughty schoolgirl, I could not be sure what burned hotter, the cheeks on my face or my bottom.

So much for finding clothes in the convent, I need to stop confusing silver linings with storm clouds.