from" The Illusions of Arienne Renard" by Imaginedslight

[esercito sconfitto]

I heard a knock on the door.

I shrieked and covered myself. It was obvious what had happened. Arienne Renard had often, to my chagrin, proved herself capable of stealing the very clothes off my body, almost always in situations where one would really rather not be reduced to a state of shameful deshabille. Clearly this time she had decided to test herself by stripping me completely naked in a single decisive blow. And nobody at the theater knew I was here! If they caught me wandering around backstage in a state of total nudity I'd have to explain who I was or be handed over to the police, and either way the story would certainly get out. Once again the whole world would know that Arienne Renard had made a fool of Colette Marinade. The shame would be exquisite. I had to act fast!

All this went through my mind in a split second. Before the knock could come again I whisked the sheet off a nearby prop to reveal a tall, gilded sarcophagus, painted with the death-mask of a queen of ancient Egypt. Perfect. I leaped inside and slammed the lid shut behind me. Somewhere far off I heard the words "Ah, there it is. What a naughty volunteer, hiding my cobra down your bodice."

The door to the room creaked open. At the same time, I realized that I was still entirely clothed. I patted myself down. I was still wearing my blue uniform trousers and jacket, as well as the underclothes that went beneath it. My fears of being caught naked had been entirely unfounded.

I cursed myself for a fool. Of course, the mirror had simply been painted to make me think that Renard had stolen my clothes. I had walked right into her trap. And now I was trapped in this sarcophagus. I gave the lid a push and found, without much surprise, that it would not open. I was stuck. This must have been her plan all along.

From outside the coffin I heard a familiar voice.

"Inspector Marinade. Easy to manipulate, as always. Did you like my little trick with the mirror? And how are you liking your new home?"

My pulse was speeding up. I might be clothed, but I was still at Renard's mercy. As long as I was trapped in the sarcophagus, she could do anything she wanted to me. I was vulnerable to any humiliation her twisted mind could devise, and from long experience I knew there was no limit to the ingenuity of the pranks she liked to inflict on me. She might dangle me naked in a birdcage from the top of Gustave Eiffel's new tower, or sell me as a dancing-slave to an Indian sultan, or paint me pink and tie me to a lamp-post in front of the offices of the seediest gossip rag in all France. Whatever scheme she concocted, the evening could only have one outcome. My abject humiliation. I quivered at the thought, my mind presenting me with one shameful scenario after another.

"Luckily for you, Inspector, I'm in a merciful mood. All I want is your uniform. Not for any criminal purpose, I assure you. Just as a souvenir. Give me that and I'll leave you alone."

I banged on the lid again. It wouldn't budge. "I'll never surrender to you! Never!"

"Suit yourself. There's a trapdoor in the back of the sarcophagus just big enough for your clothes. Hand them over and I'll open this up and leave you to sneak home in your underwear. Resist me, and..." Her voice trailed off meaningfully.

"You can't frighten me, Arienne Renard! I'll never give in to your threats!"

"Suit yourself. I hope you enjoy your new life in the Empress' harem, then. I've heard her girls aren't allowed to wear clothes, even in public, and they get their bottoms switched for the slightest infraction of the rules, but I'm sure you won't mind that."

"I... wait." The scene played in front of my eyes with perfect clarity. Marched through the bazaar of some exotic city straight out of the Arabian Nights, stripped nude and exposed to the leers of the locals, teased and tormented by the other concubines... it was too dreadful to contemplate! And I knew for a fact that Renard would do it. There was no length to which she would not go in her constant quest to make me blush. "I need your vow! Your word as a Frenchwoman that you'll let me go!"

Renard sighed. "Very well. I swear so long as my name is Arienne Renard that if you give me your uniform, I'll not play any further pranks on you for at least a fortnight."

"And that you won't use my uniform for any criminal activities."

"Fine. I swear that as well, on my honour as Arienne Renard."

Still I hesitated. It was difficult to admit that Renard had beaten me - and so easily, too. But beaten me she had, and as a woman of reason I had to admit that. All I could do was admit defeat and slink home in my brassiere and bloomers, keeping to back streets and remembering that it could have been worse. Renard may be a thief, but she was still a Frenchwoman and a woman of honor. She'd never break a vow sworn on her name.

Hastily I stripped off my blue uniform jacket, my boots and my trousers. It wasn't difficult to find the trapdoor, although a quick probe confirmed there was no way for me to get out of it. I pushed out the jacket, the boots and the trousers and stood in the sarcophagus with no clothing to my name but my brassiere and bloomers, both white and decorated with little roses. It was intensely embarrassing to be stripped to one's underwear by a petty criminal, especially for a distinguished policewoman like myself, but I gritted my teeth and consoled myself with the thought that it could have been far worse. If Renard let me out now, I could probably get home before the bars opened and the streets began to fill up.