The Black-Stockinged Nun Is Actually a Boy?! [15]

While doing the dishes after dinner, Helen could already tell that something was off with Natalie. But seeing as he had other priorities tonight, he chose not to press it.

He figured it was just the aftermath of too much happening yesterday—maybe she was still in a daze. So, he left the dorm and headed to the convent courtyard to get to work.

As he’d hoped, [Seductive Flame] did indeed burn on the black iron swords. The idea had worked, and that gave Helen a deep sense of relief.

These would be perfect as player rewards.

“So cool-looking… Too bad they’re all flash, no bite.” Helen stared at the black iron sword in his hand, purple flames dancing along its edge.

After confirming the craftsmanship was solid, he resumed enchanting.

By the time he reached the tenth sword, he collapsed into a chair, thoroughly drained.

He’d overused his abilities today—his body couldn’t keep up anymore.

In game terms, my mana bar’s empty.

“I’ll finish the rest tomorrow… hopefully the players haven’t entered the city yet.” Helen patted the courtyard wall as he stood, carefully storing the completed swords in the convent’s supply room. Those already enchanted went into their corresponding enchanted sheaths.

When he returned to the dormitory, a wave of warmth greeted him. Glancing toward the hearth, he saw Natalie moving her belongings around.

“It’s just the two of us here. Which room are you taking?” Natalie asked, her glassy eyes fixed on him.

Helen yawned. “I’ll take the room closest to the main hall on the first floor.”

With the fireplace nearby, that room would stay warmer.

“Then I’ll take the one right next to yours,” Natalie replied casually.

Helen tilted his head in confusion.

Natalie’s lips curved upward. “Didn’t you say you had something to tell me tonight?”

Helen was already dead tired, so he lifted his chin in mock arrogance and challenged her, “Well then, dare to come into my room tonight, Miss Natalie the Witch?”

Natalie froze.

“Hmph. Get some sleep. I’ll tell you tomorrow morning.” Thinking she was intimidated, Helen let his guard down, dragging his weary body into the room on the right.

He didn’t have much luggage—his entire worldly possessions amounted to three silver coins, which he kept on him—so he had nothing to unpack.

The moment he entered the room, he flopped onto the soft bedding and sighed, savoring the comfort and silence.

This place is a thousand times better than that rental shack I lived in…
The Church really does have money.

Just as he was about to strip off his nun’s robes, he heard a knock at the door.

“Natalie?”

“I want to come in.”

“…Huh?” Helen, already half-asleep, jolted upright.

“You said I wouldn’t dare, didn’t you? Well, here I am.” Her voice from the other side of the door was laced with both grievance and a hint of glee.

Now it was Helen’s turn to fall silent.

Click.

Natalie pushed the door open.

Helen turned—and froze.

Natalie was dressed in a high school uniform.

“In the convent, nuns are forbidden from engaging in any kind of intimate contact. We’re daughters of the divine, after all. But now you’ve taken off your nun’s robes…” Natalie stepped forward, eyes glinting mischievously. “And I’ve put on my old school uniform. So tell me, Helen—are we technically violating the rules?”

As Natalie approached, Helen’s nerves frayed. He backed away instinctively—until he hit the bed and lost his balance, falling flat.

Natalie seized her chance. The moment he dropped, she lunged forward, pinning him beneath her.

“W-What are you doing?!” Helen stammered as she straddled him. All trace of earlier arrogance vanished, replaced by wide-eyed anxiety and shy protest.

“You’re the one who said I could come in if I had the guts.”

Natalie let out a soft hum, tone petulant and triumphant.

“O-Okay, okay—I’ll tell you. I… I’m actually a guy. Please don’t tell anyone.”

He’d reached the point of no return. Might as well come clean.

There was no way they’d get through this encounter without the truth slipping out anyway.

Natalie blinked in stunned silence for a second or two. Then her gaze slowly drifted lower…

“I am a guy, really! So please, could you get off me? This kind of contact isn’t… appropriate,” Helen cried, eyes squinted shut, shielding himself with crossed arms.

Natalie’s eager hands finally paused mid-reach. Instead, she covered her face, mumbling something like “My orientation’s is still the same,” in a strange, muffled voice.

Helen didn’t even want to unpack what that meant. All he wanted now was for her to get off.

He gave her a slight push.

To his dismay, Natalie didn’t budge. On the contrary, she leaned in closer.

“Mmph~ Please, have mercy. I promise I won’t act smug again~” Helen buried his face in his hands. The soft sensation of her chest pressing against him was too much.

She was older. Taller. Stronger. He couldn’t overpower her—utterly hopeless.

“Alright, alright. Take off your socks. I’ll put the anklet on you,” Natalie said, cheeks flushed. “That silver anklet you bought—it’s still with me.”

Helen peeked through his fingers. “Then please… get off me first.”

Natalie gave a gentle hum of agreement, heart pounding, and carefully climbed off.

She had a nagging suspicion something was affecting her—her desires felt unusually intense.

Meanwhile, Helen finally exhaled and sat up—just in time to see Natalie kneel down in front of him.

“I’ll keep your secret. After all, we’re in the same boat,” she said softly, cheeks still tinged pink. Her head was bowed, so Helen couldn’t see her expression clearly from where he sat on the bed.

He simply nodded. With his gender exposed, his whole nun persona was now technically illegitimate.

Natalie reached out and slipped off his dainty little shoes, then peeled off his white socks. What emerged was a delicate, pale foot—flushed faint pink, soft and smooth like ripened fruit.

There was no strange odor—only a faint scent of iris and a subtle minty sharpness.

“My teacher once said: only elves, half-elves, or half-succubi naturally carry a floral scent…” Natalie murmured as she removed the other sock.

Helen gave a quiet, embarrassed hum in response.

He’d been wondering about his race too. The way he used Temptress skills so naturally—it really made him suspect something.

Natalie summoned the anklet from her magic space and, without warning, grabbed his right foot firmly.

“Ow—!” Helen yelped, but didn’t dare pull away.

Natalie’s fingertips slid briefly along the smooth skin of his thigh. “Your skin’s… really soft.”

Only after teasing him did she fasten the silver anklet around his ankle.

In the far north, there was once a belief: the foot was a private, even sacred, part of the body. If someone touched your feet or placed an anklet on you, it meant you belonged to them—as wife or property. The one who tied it had the right to enjoy it, forever.

“Is… is it done?” Helen bit his lip, silver teeth glinting faintly. His skin, already sensitive, trembled slightly under her touch.

Natalie nodded, still flustered. Then, right in front of him, she pulled off her black thigh-high socks.

Helen, barely catching his breath, made a startled noise.

Natalie tossed the warm pair onto his lap. “I get cold at night. I’m sleeping with you. I’ll be holding you.”

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T/N: OHOASJFOASJOFAJFJAOSJFOP HOT

This is a fan translation of 黑丝修女姐姐居然是男孩子？ by 水滴磐石 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!