How about everything but her boots and garterbelt

You spring into action, though to her eyes you're barely conceivable as a blur.

You cross the distance at the speed of light to stand beside her. She's still looking in the direction where you were sitting, as you continue to move at unimaginable speed, and your perception of time is sped up at the same time, allowing you to savour every moment and take your time, as it were.

You set to work. Even if you weren't sped up hundreds of times, your nimble, practiced fingers would still make short work of the buckles. You remove the pauldrons and the plate from her limbs, and finally her chestplate. Then you remove the belt around her waiste and the loincloth, before slipping her gambeson shirt off over her head, leaving her hair a little ruffled. You stretch out a hand to fix it, but pull back. You kinda like it this way.

Beneath the gambeson you get your first look at the prize. Her breasts strain against a strapless, silk lace bra, black. Before you go there though, you move further down first, past her toned abs to the hem of her woolen pants. You push it down to her ankles, which isn't too hard as it's not a very tight piece of clothing. You now get to see she wore underwear of the same type of fabric and style as her bra, black, but also a black garterbelt suspending her stockings. After pushing her foot a little into the air you're able to remove her boot, slip off one leg of her pants, and then put her boot back on, before removing the other leg of her pants and putting her back on solid ground.

All she was now wearing were her bra, panties and garter. Not for long though, as you quickly set to work on them. You undo the garter's straps first, as she wore her panties underneath her garterbelt; putting them on top of the garter is commonly understood to be naughty but there was something naughty about wearing a garter at all. Whatever made her feel sexy; all you are doing is help her show it off to the world. You insert your fingers into the waisteband, and begin to tug her panties down, all the way to her ankles, leaving a shaven cunnie exposed. You slip her panties over her boots and off her feet, put them on the pile, and reattach the suspenders of her garterbelt.

All that is left is the strapless bra. You reach behind her back to unclasp it. Before you take them off you pull them a little bit tighter though, and push her breasts down a bit with your hand, simultaneously copping a good feel. After putting strain on her breasts this way when you remove her bra the effect at normal speed will be elastic, and bouncey.

After pulling a bit tighter, you remove the bra, gather up the pile of clothes and armor, and deposit it all on the table next to the bench you had been sitting on. You take a moment while in superspeed to admire your handiwork. To any other eye, the proud, angry knight would be fully clothed one moment, and completely naked the next, after a blur moved past her. There she stood, in the center of the marketsquare, bare except for her boots, firmly planted apart in a stance, one hand still clenched in a fist resting on her hip, the other pointing towards you holding a sword that was no longer there. Her crotch was completely uncovered, but surrounded by the garter, helping to draw the eye there, and then above that, as your eyes slide upwards across her toned abs, her firm - on the large side of average - breasts were firmly pressed downwards and against her chest, ready to spring back up when time fully resumed.

You sit down, and slip back into the normal pace of time.

Everything happened relatively quickly. Her unrestrained boobs spring upwards, bouncing until they came to a jiggling stop. Alerted by the bounce of her tits the knight looks downwards to discover her complete nudity. She gasps. Her arms fall to her side, fingers wide, as if they are paralyzed by indeciciveness where to go. Her knees know where to go, as she reflexively pushes them together - almost but not quite covering her crotch with her thighs. She looks back up, towards you, her eyes wide with embarrassment, shock, and not yet fully comprehended humiliation, before doing a double-take looking back down. Only then do her arms move, each hand moving to cup a breast. Panicky, she readjusts her arms a second later, moving one across both breasts and the other to cover her crotch.

The way her ruffled hair framed her face made her look even more dishevelled, as if a blast of hurricane wind had torn off all her clothes, except her boots. Essentially, that's what had happened.