July 1794

The Revolutionary Tribunal handed down its verdict: "Celine Reseau, we find you guilty. The sentence shall be death by guillotine." The twenty-one-year-old seamstress had pled innocent of the charges of treason. With no right to an attorney, she made an impassioned plea to be spared. Yet, the Revolutionary comrades overseeing her trial were not moved.

Celine's journey had been on a tragic trajectory for two years. She lost Papa shortly before she married her husband Phillipe. Several months later, Maman passed. The following year (almost to the day) Phillipe's fishing vessel didn't return to port. All hands were presumed dead.

The widowed Celine supported herself by serving as a seamstress for her small fishing village. Being young, self-sufficient, and attractive (while certainly not the most beautiful lady in the village, Celine had many admirers) she was the target of much gossip and suspicion by local housewives. It was this unearned ire that would ultimately end her life. Two jealous wives denounced Celine as a traitor to the great Revolution. Without evidence, they reported that she’d been feeding troop movements to the hated Austrians.

Celine’s arrest was swift. She was grabbed by two large men who violently through her in a horse-drawn wagon. As she was whisked to jail, her fellow villagers (including friends and even family members) booed and jeered her. Rotten fruit pelted the side of her cart.

Even if she’d had her wits about her, Celine couldn't calculate the numbers of hours she sat in her dark, lonely, cold stone cell. She felt a mix of fear and relief when her name was called. She was taken (basically manhandled) across the road to a tavern. Angry villagers spat on her and yelled at her as she was dragged before three stern-looking tribunal judges.

"The accusations of treason are substantiated by evidence. How do you plead?" asked a stern-looking judge.

"I am innocent," pled a frightened Celine.

The second judge held up his index finger to silence the now trembling young woman. "And I suppose you didn't hide this map in the seam of a coat you repaired?" he asked.

"No, Monsieur, I swear it."

The judges nodded to one and the other. The tribunal judge who’d remained silent up until now spoke: "We find your story implausible. You are guilty. We sentence you to death by guillotine."

Celine was once again spirited away, this time to a small castle along the Mediterranean coast. She was taken to a dimly lit cell containing other female inmates who looked gaunt and broken.

"Citizen Mignotte," called the guard. Celine could not see the guard’s face, even as he opened the cell door. She noticed the guard's hand softly brushed Ms. Mignotte’s hand. She screamed in terror.  The guard embraced her and whispered something in her ear. Ms. Mignotte appeared less hysterical. He slowly walked her to the jail door. Celine heard the guard ask someone at the door to be gentle with the prisoner. The jail fell deadly silent.

A few minutes later the silence was shattered by the sound of a gathered crowd. The laughing and calls of "traitor" didn’t drown out Ms. Mignotte pleading for her life. A metallic sound was followed by cheers. For Celine, reality set in - soon, she would also be felled by the guillotine's blade.

The guard walked over to the cell. “I’m Jacques Lefarve, the guard of this jail. I will try to make you as comfortable as possible.”

Celine introduced herself. After chatting for a few minutes, Jacque gave Celine a weak smile and walked away.

Within a few days, Celine's remaining cellmates were taken one by one to meet the executioner. The young seamstress was now alone. One evening Jacques handed Celine a blanket and half a baguette. Celine was surprised by the gifts. "Merci," she squeaked.

Jacques smiled: "You're very welcome." He opened her cell door and entered.

“The guillotine is broken. They are working to fix it, but it will take a few more days,” said Jacques, much to Celine’s relief.

Somehow, Jacques and Celine ended up chatting the night away. They were around the same age, both widowed, lonely, and suspected by their neighbors. Jacques was a few years older than Celine. His face was weathered (prior to the Revolution he’d owned a fishing vessel). His blue eyes sparkled, but they also hinted at sadness.

Despite being surrounded by death, Jacques and Celine found themselves attracted to one and other. Celine brown hair, normally cut short, had grown neck length. Her green eyes and light skin gave her the appearance of being younger than her twenty-five years. A few faded pox marks dotted her cheeks. Her thick lips and hourglass figure helped her win many admirers.

Over the next few days, the two continued to get to know each other. As they spoke, Jacques started gently holding Celine’s hand. This kind gesture warmed Celine’s heart.

One dusk, Jacques brought a bucket of warmed water and a scrub brush for Celine to clean herself. To his surprise, Celine disrobed in front of him and asked for his assistance. Jacques gently scrubbed her back, working the brush down to her rear. The sensation of her buttocks being rubbed caused her to moan, arch her back, and lean back into Jacques. She could feel the bulge from his cock against her ass, which was a great turn-on.

Jacques kissed the back of Celine's neck. She closed her eyes and continued to moan. He then brushed gently between her soft, smooth thighs. Celine orgasmed.

She turned around and the two kissed. Celine’s fingers graced his cock. Jacques gently squeezed Celine's breasts. He then worked her nipples with his lips. The pair fell onto her straw bed. Jacques continued to hungrily suck on Celine's nipples while his fingers gently and slowly traced her labia. He then worked his fingers around her clit in a puncher movement. Celine screamed in pleasure.

She gazed into Jacques' beautiful blue eyes. The two continued to kiss until she arched her back and screamed again. "Put it in, now!" she cried as both a plea and a command. Jacques inserted his cock into her warm, wet vagina. A small bump in her vaginal wall rubbed against his penis, causing him to howl in delight.

It had been so long since she had last had sex that Celine couldn't quite remember the feel of Phillipe's cock. But, as Jacques thrust deeper into her, she remembered the ecstasy of having a man's member inside her. Jacques kissed her passionately as he ejaculated. Celine could feel the warmth from his cum as it spurted deep inside her. He collapsed next to her, breathing heavily.

The exhausted lovers cuddled. Jacques told Celine that although they’d only known each other a few days, he was falling in love with her. She said she felt the same way.  Jacques then said, “I think I have a way to get you out of here. We’ll run away together.” They fell asleep in each other's arms.

Celine awoke to a pitch-black jail. The candles had burned out. She felt the heat from Jacques’ body. She put her head on his chest. As she moved her arm, she inadvertently touched Jacques’ erect cock. She smiled as she put his hard dick in her mouth. Jacques awoke with a moan. He gently brushed Celine’s hair as her head moved up and down. With his manhood in her mouth, Celine circled her tongue around his most sensitive parts. Jacques tried to muffle his orgasm. Once he caught his breath, he thanked Celine and gave her a deep kiss. The pair fell into a deep sleep.

The peace and pleasure of their illicit love affair was rocked at sunrise.

"Jacques Lefarve. You are under arrest."

Celine watched in horror as he was dragged away. A citizen spy had overheard Jacques' promise to aid in Celine's escape. The tribunal rapidly denounced Jacques as a traitor and sentenced him to death. The crowd erupted in cheers.

Jacques was escorted back to the jail. Looking at the expression on his face, she immediately knew what had happened.

“It appears the guillotine has been fixed,” he said.

The guards had unlocked her cell, and she ran to Jacques. The two lovers peered out the jail window. Jacque held her close as they watched workers test the guillotine.

Although terrified of what was to come, Celine derived comfort from knowing that she and Jacques would be buried together, embracing for all eternity.

“Citizen Reseau and Citizen Lefarve, come forward,” called out a guard.