Enjoy her treasures.

You pull Marait's knives out and look at them. Sharp, indeed, and well-balanced. You turn to the bound woman before you, examining her body. A tight fabric tunic restrains considerable breasts, and leather leggings enclose long, smooth, strong legs that bend up behind her body. The tension of her body in the fabric stretches the seams. You drag a knife lightly across the shoulder seams and they pop one after another, her breasts sagging slightly lower as the threads snap. You drag the knife down the front of her tunic and the pressure from those beautiful breasts tears the fabric more fully, her breasts finally hanging straight and bare below her chest, gravity already beginning to flush them red. You slide the remnants of her tunic off her back and put the knives aside, reaching underneath her hanging body to caress those beautiful round mounds. Her skin is smooth and warm, her body shuddering at your touch and the strain on her shoulders. She starts to whisper, "Please..." but catches herself and closes her mouth firmly. You laugh. "Please, darling? What do you need? What can I do for you?" She shakes her head, her mouth firmly closed, her breathing now coming slightly harder, flaring her nostrils. "Nothing? Well, do let me know... Because I have no doubt I can think of things you'd like me to... not... do." You rub the edge of the knife lightly across her breasts, making her hiss in pain as the razor sharp knife breaks tiny cuts in the skin. You slip the knife tip under her belt and cut through it, then slide it down the curve of her back into the groove of her ass. You lever it gently up, teasingly cutting her leggings slowly apart. Slitting down the inseams, her leggings fall away, along with her loincloth. Her long, lovely legs now hang exposed, leading down to her lovely round ass and beneath her her a thin, fuzzy blonde bush hides her pussy. 

At your command the vines lower her gently towards the ground. As she comes closer to it, she sucks in her breath in anticipation of the easing of pressure on her limbs. Just an inch shy of the ground you halt her progress, her face so close to the ground she could stick out her tongue and touch it. Her arms shudder with pain as she writhes, **** for the release the ground offers. After a moment you release her altogether, and she thumps to the ground with a thud.