Phoebe's Failed Gambit
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A/N: This short story references Phryne, an ancient Greek courtesan who was acquitted of blasphemy when she stripped naked, and the jury was awestruck by her beauty.
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Phoebe learned at the age of twenty-five that being pious could not protect her from being considered guilty by association when her husband was arrested for his involvement in a plot to assassinate the king.
The golden-haired beauty was imprisoned along with other family members of the so-called traitors, and though she was offered the privilege of a trial, the looming threat of execution still weighed heavily on her mind. Fortunately, she received some consolation in the form of a sealed letter on the night before her fateful day. It appeared to have been written by Hubert, a friend of her late father, and it instructed Phoebe to use her beauty to her advantage by stripping naked during her trial, much like the ancient Greek courtesan Phryne.
Phoebe decided to seize this slim opportunity for freedom. The following morning, she found herself standing in the center of a room filled with restless men and waited until the jury was convened to begin unfastening her bodice so that she could easily bare her shoulders.
This action immediately caught the attention of everyone present, and a collective gasp sounded in the courtroom when she pulled the fabric of her dress right down to expose her breasts before clearing her throat.
“Look upon my form,” she announced for all to hear. “Surely you wouldn’t bear to see it destroyed?”
The members of the jury shifted in their seats, then turned to whisper to each other. Phoebe’s breath caught in her throat as she awaited their verdict.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, a gray-bearded old man stood up to make known what he and the others had decided. His gaze did not break away from Phoebe’s naked upper body while he spoke.
“On the contrary, we believe your wanton display to be undeniable proof of your guilt. Only a sinful harlot would resort to such behavior, after all.”
The judge nodded in agreement, then with an almost perverse smile, gave the sentence that Phoebe had been dreading all this time.
“Lady Rochefort, you have been found guilty of aiding your husband in committing treason, and for that you shall be burned until all that remains is ash and bone. May heaven have mercy on your soul.”
Shortly afterwards, a speechless Phoebe was escorted back to her cell, and two days later, she remained in shock while being chained naked to the stake and having countless eyes upon her. The pyre was lit, and the crackle of hungry flames soon drew the undivided attention of those who had come to witness her death. They watched in rapture as her beautiful body was slowly consumed and roasted from the feet upwards. Her accompanying moans of agony were music to their ears and by the time the flames reached up to caress her exquisite breasts, there was not a single dry pair of trousers to be found nearby.
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Phoebe learned at the age of twenty-five that being pious could not protect her from being considered guilty by association when her husband was arrested for his involvement in a plot to assassinate the king.
The golden-haired beauty was imprisoned along with other family members of the so-called traitors, and though she was offered the privilege of a trial, the looming threat of execution still weighed heavily on her mind. Fortunately, she received some consolation in the form of a sealed letter on the night before her fateful day. It appeared to have been written by Hubert, a friend of her late father, and it instructed Phoebe to use her beauty to her advantage by stripping naked during her trial, much like the ancient Greek courtesan Phryne.
Phoebe decided to seize this slim opportunity for freedom. The following morning, she found herself standing in the center of a room filled with restless men and waited until the jury was convened to begin unfastening her bodice so that she could easily bare her shoulders.
This action immediately caught the attention of everyone present, and a collective gasp sounded in the courtroom when she pulled the fabric of her dress right down to expose her breasts before clearing her throat.
“Look upon my form,” she announced for all to hear. “Surely you wouldn’t bear to see it destroyed?”
The members of the jury shifted in their seats, then turned to whisper to each other. Phoebe’s breath caught in her throat as she awaited their verdict.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, a gray-bearded old man stood up to make known what he and the others had decided. His gaze did not break away from Phoebe’s naked upper body while he spoke.
“On the contrary, we believe your wanton display to be undeniable proof of your guilt. Only a sinful harlot would resort to such behavior, after all.”
The judge nodded in agreement, then with an almost perverse smile, gave the sentence that Phoebe had been dreading all this time.
“Lady Rochefort, you have been found guilty of aiding your husband in committing treason, and for that you shall be burned until all that remains is ash and bone. May heaven have mercy on your soul.”
Shortly afterwards, a speechless Phoebe was escorted back to her cell, and two days later, she remained in shock while being chained naked to the stake and having countless eyes upon her. The pyre was lit, and the crackle of hungry flames soon drew the undivided attention of those who had come to witness her death. They watched in rapture as her beautiful body was slowly consumed and roasted from the feet upwards. Her accompanying moans of agony were music to their ears and by the time the flames reached up to caress her exquisite breasts, there was not a single dry pair of trousers to be found nearby.
Oops! Sorry for my poor English. I wanted to express my opinion about the difference between Phryne and Phoebe.
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