Thumbs... up?

"Wait, I'm confused. You want me to let the girls walk away with their panties on?"

"Not quite," says the leader of the boys, a lithe young man whose clean-shaven skull is dark and glossy. He smirks at the girls, drinking in the spectacle of their rounded panty-clad buttocks, so temptingly displayed under your arms. Behind him, the other boys are nudging each other and whispering. "We had another idea."

"Feeling creative, huh? Well, fire away!"

"The palace guards are supposed to be the toughest soldiers in the city. What if we had a little competition to see who's really the strongest? Let's make them fight to see who gets to keep her clothes."

"Interesting," you say, looking from the dreadlocked girl to the faux-hawked girl. They're both wriggling in your arms, yelling for help and trying to pull free as the boys ogle their behinds. "What do you say to a little wrestling match, girls?"

"Let us go, you bully!"

"Take your hands off us!"

"Keep in mind that if you say no, I'll strip you both naked and let the boys do whatever they want with you."

"We love wrestling!"

"I'll definitely win!"

"Fine," you say, dumping both girls onto the dusty ground. They pick themselves up, hastily smoothing down their skirts as the boys form a loose circle around them. "But I want to see a good clean match with no funny business. No scratching, no biting and no running away. Hair-pulling's fine if you can work out how to do it with dreadlocks. First girl naked loses."

"Hey," Daisy chirps up. "The girl with the shaved head's getting away."

"Well, go and catch her. I've got a wrestling match to judge."