No, and it goes poorly…

Ava hid, hoping Sara could deal with the army. She just wanted it to be over.

And surprisingly soon it was, though not in the way she wanted. When the noise quietened and Ava peered over the cart, her eyes went wide.

Sara, Amaya and Zari were surrounded. Both Zari and Amaya had lost their totems, the magic accessories they wore around their necks to grant them power; at some point in the fight the guards had gotten close enough to cut them away.

Just that glimpse made Ava come into view as well.

It was too late for her to join the fight; a token effort later, and she was grabbed by another of the guards, manhandled out and thrown to join the three Legends, all standing awkwardly.

Ava quickly covered herself with her hands, hating the fact that needing to cross an arm over her tits had started to feel like a luxury.

And from the way the knights leered at the four of them, Ava could guess what the consequences for Sara’s attempted jailbreak would be.

Darhk was no longer there; that was the one mercy. Otherwise the rest of them were led through the streets. Any attempts at fighting back were overcome by the superior numbers and position of the guards.

And Ava’s three would-be rescuers were stripped just as Ava was, before being led through the town.

Sara bore it with the most dignity, though it was plainly an act. Her cheeks still flushed, her glare just that little bit less sure. She crossed her arms, glowering.

Zari panicked the most, almost squealing as her clothes were ripped from her, more concerned with covering herself than maintaining her dignity. She grabbed her own breasts, jumping on the spot from the shock, a palm blocking each nipple, and struggling to try and hide more.

Amaya tried to struggle, batting hands away even as her clothes were torn to shreds. She tried to cover herself, but kept letting glimpses of her dark tits sneak through as she moved.

Ava stared at the street, unable to believe this was happening. Most of the Legends she wouldn’t really call friends; she’d never been close to any of them except Sara. Still, she’d seen them fight, so having them reduced to this for her sake…

There was another square in a crossroads, and in this one multiple stocks were set up side by side. The guards herded them on, one by one forcing them into the humiliating restraints.

Zari kept stumbling; she hailed from a more dystopian future, where modesty was one of the few things she’d been able to hold on to.

She tried and failed to throw wind, her totem lost, and found herself locked in place, her hands no longer covering her chest and her boobs suddenly in full view of everyone, friends and strangers alike. Her eyes darting around, panicked.

Amaya meanwhile was from the past. Well, by everyone else’s reckoning, if not from the view of this time; she was used to more conservative values, and attire so to be stripped like this made her mind reel.

To then be bent over, her generous ass thrust out for the eyes of the whole world was unthinkable. She struggled with the stocks as Ava once had, succeeding only in making them rattle.

Sara was next. She tried to keep her pride, wrenching her arms out of their grasp but not hitting back, not forcing them to overpower her again; it would be pointless. She gave a glare as her neck and wrists were restrained, and it was only when they looked away from her that Ava saw tears of humiliation well up in her eyes.

Sara blinked them away, trying to focus on some imaginary good, but unable to forget that she was now exposed, her toned body displayed to the town. Her smaller but still eye-catching tits lay there, and her ass (a centre of attention even when she was clothed) was pushed out with no way to even attempt to cover it.

Stumbling, Ava was the final one to be secured, wriggling and biting back a sob, hating the fact they’d reduced her this but so embarrassed by the prospect of more exposure she had to.

Nothing worked and, nude as she had been for hours, Ava was once more restrained.

She glanced sideways at her three would-be rescuers, barely having the freedom of motion to do that, to see the same looks of humiliation on their faces.