She meets their conditions

“Pretty obvious it you ask me. Strip.” The male Mandalorian said ominously.

“Or we’ll strip you.” Said another entering the room to back up his friend.

“What you waiting for?” Another asked.

More Mandalorians were emerging into the corridor, small crowds forming in front of and behind Ahsoka. The possibility of quietly leaving the situation had gone.

“You can’t seriously expect me to do that.” Ashoka blurted out.

“And you can’t seriously expect us to allow a Jedi in here. There need to be compromises on your part.” Another Mandalorian with Green Armour declared.

“You’d certainly have me in a compromising position if you had your way. Did you really agree to this?” Ahsoka asked Bo, trying to keep the panic in her voice under control.

Bo-Katan sighed at the ongoing development:

“You were in danger and I was prepared to do anything to help you.”

“You! You don’t have to do anything!” Ahsoka argued.

“I’m sorry, I thought I could talk them around with time, but you know us Mandalorians, we’re stubborn.” Bo-Katan explained.

“So you’re actually…”

“I want you safe and I want my comrades content and it seems there’s only one way to get both, I’m sorry, it’s not the first time you’ve had to suffer during war.”

“I never had to suffer like this on the battlefield.”

“Well if you keep antagonising this will become a battlefield, and without your weapons do you really think you’ll win?”

For a few moments Ahsoka counted the growing numbers and reflected on her chances. The odds weren’t bad, but they weren’t good, and would a win against her supposed allies be worth it?

And if she lost, how would it feel to be stripped by **** by the crowd? Ahsoka suppressed a shudder at the image of her held down, unable to move from the weight of her attackers pinning her down, **** to just watch her clothes being pulled apart in front of her, exposed and restrained and humiliated. There could be at least some dignity in making the choice herself.

“Consider this a gesture of good faith, we’re fighting the same enemy.” She spoke to the crowd.

Ahsoka slowly placed her hands behind her back to search for the fasteners on the back of her grey-blue dress made from hardened fabric for combat. The rigid material was heavy and it meant as she finally undid the clasps at the back the weight brought her outer attire down with a thud. The Togruta tried not to shiver as the cold air hit her exposed shoulders and stomach.

Beneath her dress she wore grey leggings and a tank top, simple fabric that felt very revealing under the circumstances, but not enough that she wanted to part with them. Ahsoka felt the stare of the crowd that made her cheeks burn from embarrassment but she knew it was too late now. She grasped the buttons of her tank top and swiftly pulled it open, hoping to get it over with quickly, feeling her breasts gently heave out with the new space and her nipples involuntarily moving as the cold manipulated them.

“I can see why so much of the Galaxy wants to get their hands on this one.”

Ahsoka tried not to think next, just do, as she bent down pulling her leggings off. As she slipped down the clothing her buttocks pushed out with the movement, free from the clothing and rising up in the air. There was a low hum of approval from the crowd behind Ahsoka at the show she had to put on.

“Her arse is a deeper shade of orange, I’m learning new things today.”

The leggings pooled around her feet as she got them down to her ankles, squirming a little as she completed the removal, meaning to her further embarrassment she could feel her hips having to sway with the final act of undressing and become all the more aware of her ass-cheeks she was displaying to the crowd.

“I can see why they call her Ass-hoka now.”

Maybe it was marginally better than the next view she was about to give them she thought, as she stood up and left her neatly trimmed pubic hair unveiled to her audience, a decorative presentation to her light orange mound that she did her best to hide behind pressed legs.

She stepped out of the last of her garments piled by her feet and gave a filthy stare to her so-called allies for what they’d made her volunteer to do.

“And the headband.” A voice said.

Ahsoka saw the hand grabbing at her blue silver metal headband and immediately swatted it away, striking out with her arm. On another day she’d have been able to control herself better, but today was not an ordinary day, so her fist flew out to knock away the overly handy foe. Her body jiggled with the sudden movements in ways she wasn’t used to and the judder through her bosom and rear was different enough that she stopped for just a moment to adapt. It was a moment too long when faced with a crowd of suspicious Mandalorians.

“The Jedi is resisting!” Someone shouted.

The sound of rope through the air was heard for a second before Ashoka’s hands were restrained behind her back, the sudden movement of her arms forcing her chest to jutt out in front of Bo-Katan and Ahsoka grimaced with humiliation so much that she never had time to anticipate the rope round her legs. Within a second she fell flat on the floor, her bottom cushioning the impact in a graceless manner.

The final victory was the sudden clasp of metal around Ahsoka’s neck as the dark ring of a slaver collar was **** onto her. Before she had a chance to think a shock pulsed through her body and she lay prone on the ground, not **** but unable to move, just feel the hands grabbing at her bare orange flesh lifting her up and carrying her away. She squeaked involuntarily as they lifted her up to take her elsewhere, little consideration given to her comfort, buttocks being squeezed, pubic hair being stroked and tits being fondled.

Out of the corner of the her eye Ashoka could see Bo-Katan following the group, shaking her head.

“I guess this will make the final condition easier… you always did like to do things the hard way.”