The Unjustly Punished Lady Lawyer - Sex Stories

The Unjustly Punished Lady Lawyer

... think they were? All I had done was screw someone a few times, hardly much of an offence anywhere.

Eventually, two female uniformed staff came in and undid the handcuffs from the chair. They hustled me down some corridors and into a cell, slamming and locking the door behind me. The cell was bare but clean and it was air-conditioned.

There was a small frosted glass window high up one wall, but you could see nothing out of it. There was a flush toilet, a shower cubicle, and a bed with a couple of sheets that ran along one wall. I felt my face. It was a little swollen but there were no broken teeth and I wasn't bleeding.

I tended to myself, sitting there in tears, wondering what to do. There was nothing to eat, but there was a large bottle of water left on the floor. I drank some water, lay on the bed, and tried to think. Probably no one knew I was there. What had they done with my car?

The office would know I had not turned up for work, go looking for me, and draw a blank. Hopefully, they would talk to my friend, but all this might take a couple of days. They might very well wait 48 hours before alerting the authorities. I drifted into a disturbed sleep to be woken quite early by two different women who suddenly opened the cell door and came in.

They told me to strip naked and to shower. I thought they came from somewhere on the Indian subcontinent. One of them (the bigger one) was carrying a wicked-looking whip, banging it against her hand, whilst looking at ...

... me. I did as I was told and showered quickly.

They let me dry and then handed me a one-piece "prison uniform" (clearly I was in some sort of prison). In a sort of clinic, the two women waited while another pair of women in white coats gestured for me to get up onto an examination couch. They did all the usual things and then turned me over on my face.

They made me clean up on a bidet whilst they watched, then gave me a most embarrassing and very painful internal examination. I tried to protest, but the one with the whip came over and shook it threateningly.

I was then marched back down to the "interrogation room." This time, it was an Arab woman. From her accent and the dialect she used, I was sure she was North African. She began, "You may as well tell us the truth or we will beat it out of you. It's up to you."

"But I'm not a spy. I'm just a lawyer." "No," the woman said, "You are a spy. We have seen your address book. You have the London address of a Mossad agent."

Now I knew what had happened. It must have been they who went to my flat and found my address book. I had the addresses of my London friends in it and some of these were Jewish as they were in the law business like me.

It never occurred to me that my address book was a security risk. "But my Jewish friends are mostly involved in law, just like me," I protested. "We know that one of these friends of yours works with Mossad. You will tell us about him."

I wasn't sure which one they meant. One of ...