Sarah felt Theresa begin to climb onto the altar, moving between her legs, and she opened her eyes and looked down at her. They held each other’s gaze as Theresa put her hands on Sarah’s sides and then, bowing her head, she poked out her tongue and her head sunk towards Sarah’s slit. As she made contact and probed for the clitoris Sarah emitted a short, high-pitched yelp.

“Now, let’s get Satan out of you,” the Reverend Mother said softly, and Sarah wondered if she, too, was going to add to this impossible pleasure.

“Yes,” Sarah said expectantly. One more lick from Theresa, or maybe two, was all it was going to take.

But Sarah’s excitement turned to dread as she saw the Reverend Mother holding something bright above her head. As it cut out the light from the stained glass window she could make out the long curved blade of the dagger. The Reverend Mother was poised to strike down. Sarah tried to lift her arms to stop her but the chains held her. She screamed “no!” over and over again and ever louder.

Read the rest of the story in The Rules of the Convent

“Socks?” she said, “Really?” I laughed. It wasn’t so strange to be wearing socks!

She rolled up my trouser leg an inch and pulled at my sock, tugging it off my raised foot, and then performed the same routine with the other leg.

I remained standing and she unzipped my jeans and hooked her fingers into the waistband and pulled down. I had the second surprise in as many minutes as I realised she was taking my knickers with them.

“I…” I began to protest.

“Sssh,” she said, “We need to start from the ground up.”

I nodded as she rolled my jeans down my legs. I sat my bare buttocks on her sofa and lifted both my legs as she tugged at my underwear and jeans, pulling them off my feet and dropping them onto the back of a chair.

I’d honestly never felt so self-conscious, sat there, suddenly nude. Lisa sat back beside me in her PVC dress and boots.

Read the rest of A Very Grown-Up Party, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF

As she said this, and as Jessica exhaled, Miss Ashdown’s fingers, flat on top of Jessica’s, slipped into the white knickers. Jessica felt the fabric sliding over her hips as their interlocked hands pushed them down onto the floor. Jessica’s breath shuddered again but somehow she resisted the impulse to try to cover herself. She concentrated on the image of the concert hall, of standing naked on the stage as if no-one was there.

“You imagine his strong hands, running up and down your naked body,” the teacher continued, their hands continuing to move together, “His eyes devour your image as he remains fixed in his seat, desperately trying to control his breathing lest he be discovered watching you while you arouse yourself, naked on the stage.”

Miss Ashdown paused. Jessica’s hands were now moving by themselves and Miss Ashdown was merely following their movements with hers.

“Finally, with one last stretch, you feel you need to release this energy, to show him just a hint of the woman that is bursting to get out of you.” With that, she lifted Jessica’s hands above her and Jessica arched her back as if she were stretching after awaking in the morning.

“You’re a beautiful young girl, Jessica,” Miss Ashdown whispered, “So now let’s see how you play.”

Read the rest of Piano Lessons, and 11 other ENF stories, in Naked Women in Shorts

Photographer: Davide Padovan

I nodded as she rolled my jeans down my legs. I sat my bare buttocks on her sofa and lifted both my legs as she tugged at my underwear and jeans, pulling them off my feet and dropping them onto the back of a chair.

I’d honestly never felt so self-conscious, sat there, suddenly nude. Lisa sat back beside me in her PVC dress and boots.

“What…” I began, “What am I going to be wearing?”

Lisa looked thoughtful for a second. “Do you know Tina?” she asked me. I nodded, although I only barely knew the girl she was talking about.

“She has something for you to put on,” she told me.

“And where’s Tina?”

“She’s on her way. Or at least she said she’d get her early.”

I looked wistfully at my clothes crumpled on the chair: I’d have preferred to have gotten undressed after my outfit had arrived, not before. Then I glanced up at the table across the room, laid out with drinks and empty glasses. I noticed what looked like a pair of handcuffs on the far corner and then averted my eyes in embarrassment. I don’t know why.

Read the rest of A Very Grown-Up Party, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF

“It does, yes,” Cassandra replied, “Sue and I always dress in pretty much the same way.” She looked down at herself and I hoped Jim had enough of her in shot to capture her pair of very short and very torn denim shorts, heeled sandals, and a baggy white t-shirt. It’s not often you see such a gorgeous pair of legs on a business program.

“But that’s not the whole story, is it?” I prompted Cassandra. “There’s one more piece to the puzzle of how you’ve managed to pull in customers from miles around?”

Cassandra smiled again. We had pre-planned how the conversation would flow, but Cassandra was great at improvising the words.

“Indeed, Tricia. We’d had this idea of serving in the nude but, until the appeal comes through, we can’t do that. But we don’t want anyone coming to a café called ‘Naked Women in Shorts’ and being disappointed, so we work dressed like this.”

On cue Cassandra grabs the bottom of her t-shirt and pulls it swiftly and smoothly over her head. She’s not wearing a bra underneath and I stare for a second at her perfect, small breasts. Her long hair falls over her bare shoulders and it occurs to me that if the café business ever fails she could easily turn to modelling. She’s almost impossibly thin and the denim shorts cover so little she’s as close to being naked as she can be, and still be legal. I’m suddenly insanely jealous of the combination of brains, beauty and youth.

Read the rest of the story, and 11 other ENF stories, in Naked Women in Shorts