Bind her hands.

Girls putting their clothes back on? Not on your watch. You follow her behind the counter. She's cowering in the shadow of the bar, stark naked and red with shame, trying to piece her clothing back together. You take her wrists, cross them behind her back and fix them in place with a convenient piece of rope. Then you go back to your seat.

You hear a squeal from behind the counter and smile. She's trapped, now, and clearly very confused. Her clothes are right there but there's nothing she can do to dress herself again. You see her pretty red-headed face emerge from under the bar, peeping over the top, blushing like a rose. She's looking for a way out.

She tries to catch your attention. "Hey. Excuse me? Umm... listen, this is embarrassing, but I've had some kind of... wardrobe malfunction. Do you think you can help me?"

"Hmmm." You pretend to consider it, enjoying her distress. "I don't know. Come over here and I'll see what I can do."

"What? I can't come out there. I'm... I'm naked!"

"Wow, that is embarrassing." You stroke your chin. "But if you won't come out I can't help you. Oh, well. Guess I'll just have to leave you there, at the mercy of whoever comes in next. Probably half a dozen soldiers."

"What?"

"Yep. There's no help for it."

You get up, pretending like you're going to leave. You're almost at the door before you see the blushing barwench come scrambling out from behind the bar. She stops in the middle of the tavern floor, breathing heavily, her full breasts heaving up and down, the thatch of red hair between her milky white thighs on full display for your amusement. You eye her boldly, your gaze creeping over every corner of her beautiful body while she crosses her legs and squirms. Her hands are tied, so she can't cover up, and she knows perfectly well you're her only way out of here. She seems angry to be so blatantly ogled, but if she wants your help she can't afford to annoy you.