The Matron's New Clothes
A pair of human tailors once attached themselves to a trade caravan, and found their way into a drow city. Once there, they began to hawk their wares; they claimed they could create so beautiful and mystical a cloth that it would tap into the Divine Realms, and only those deemed unfit to live by their patron deity would be unable to see it.
The retinue of a Matron Mother, hearing of this, brought the tailors into her household, and commissioned them to make for her a fine new costume of this magnificent fabric.
The tailors were delighted to think of the money they'd make, and set themselves up in a secluded room. There, they lounged about, enjoying luxury and ease, for in truth there was no such cloth at all.
Now and then, the Matron sent servants to check up on their progress; afraid of being considered unfit to live, these servants reported back that the cloth was beautiful beyond compare.
At last, the day came when the tailors claimed the clothing was ready. The Matron stood before a mirror, and watched as they pretended to drape the 'clothing' about her naked form. Her servants praised the clothing once again, but the Matron seemed unmoved.
At last, she smiled, and told the tailors how pleased she was with their work. As payment, she said, she would give them wondrous armour, which could be seen only by those who had not cheated others that day.
The tailors struggled to hold their smiles in place as drow servants pretended to place armour about them.
"Now," the Matron said, "you are safe from any threat in the Underdark, I am sure. But I must put upon myself my jewellery." With that, she donned jewelled cuffs, belt, and necklaces of such ornate kinds that they covered some of what was lacking; and, indeed, the ornaments were enchanted to protect her so well that she needed neither armour nor clothing.
And the tailors stared in dismay, for the Matron had no flaws to hide beneath cloth, and thus felt free to bare her skin and prove this.
They had given nothing, been given nothing in return; worse than nothing, for they were driven out of the city, where the beasts of the Underdark soon killed them. The servants foolish enough to lie were punished, and the Matron reigned over her House, bringing fear and envy to the hearts of her rivals with her daring and her unflawed and unhidden form. And the Spider Goddess was pleased, for shame and doubt ill befit her chosen people.
A/N: Drow, of course, seeing clothes as either tools of protection or covering up flaws, aren't big on this whole 'modesty' thing. So a Matron's a bit harder to humiliate than an Emperor... and has probably planned for your attempt well in advance.