Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa, Consensual, Slavery, Lesbian, Horror, BDSM, FemaleDom, Sadistic, Torture, .
Desc: Horror Sex Story: Prologue - Scantily dressed young lady tourists are imprisoned by a puritanical cult. As they toil under the merciless heat their only solace lies in each others' bodies.
Clarissa Cresswell had just presented her arguments before Mr Justice Forbes-Johnson and won her latest case. Although she was a modest and level headed young woman, she was feeling pretty pleased with herself today. After a difficult first year at the bar she had found herself more and more in demand. Her stunning blonde good looks had been as much a liability as an asset to start with, but a lucky illness had put her leading counsel in hospital and thrown her in the deep end in a very complex commercial case which Clarissa had handled well - extremely well. The demure blonde lawyer had arrived in a spectacular way and since then she had never looked back, with solicitors pushing more briefs at her than she could handle - and the industrious Clarissa could handle more work than most!
It was lunchtime and she was dashing across the Strand to pay a lightning visit to her chambers in the Middle Temple before being back in court later in the afternoon.
"Gee! Doesn't she look cute! I just love that wig, honey! Can I have my picture taken standing next to you?"
Normally Clarissa was far too busy to take note of crass comments from foreign tourists, let alone those from the USA. She'd been there once and hoped not to see it ever again. But this well remembered voice belonged to no ordinary American! Her normally grave, even cold, features dissolved into a delighted smile whose warmth would have amazed any of her colleagues had they been looking and there were tears in her eyes.
"Miranda! Darling Miranda! I thought I'd never see you again!"
"Hi, Clarrie! Got a kiss for me?"
"Have I ever!"
And the two kissed in the street in full view of the passing world. A gowned and bewigged lady barrister embraced a colourfully and scantily dressed American tourist - it was a hot day in mid May. Clarissa had not enjoyed a kiss of passion for years. In fact she had not kissed another human being - even her two boyfriends - with anything other than a sense of duty since she had said farewell to Miranda seven years ago.
"Better not overdo this! I have my professional reputation to think of!" said Clarissa after an all too brief taste of those well remembered lips. "Come to my office. We can talk on the way and then I must get back to work! I'm so busy these days, you'd not believe it!"
"I believe it!" gasped Miranda as she strove to keep up with her. "You always were fond of hard work! Same old Clarissa - even down to that great body! My, but you still get to keep pretty fit!"
"I do indeed! But I really don't have a second to spare until Saturday, Miranda! You must come and stay with me for the weekend. I have a cottage in Hampshire where we can talk over old times and catch up."
"How's Megan these days?"
"Fine. She made it to Sergeant and then left the Force to start a family. Very domesticated these days! One sweet little girl of ten months and another on the way! And she looks great! Her face still has a faint scar, but her nose is as good as new - just slightly crooked - but you'd never know unless you were looking for it."
"I told you they'd put things right, Clarissa! We must meet up again, the three of us. I'm over here for a few years. I got a post in Oncology at Guys and start working for real next week."
Miranda looked around the Middle Temple, just before going into Clarissa's chambers.
"Is this where you work? It's just so lovely here, Clarissa! You'd never think this was the middle of a big city! Not like where we first met!"
Later that night Clarissa went over the events of the day. She recalled Miranda's words. "Not like where we first met!"
The Temple certainly wasn't a bit like that white hot inferno where two attractive young women had first found love in bleak and pitiless surroundings.