They have a go at Tyra’s ass

The adventurers are both facing either side of the hallway, backs towards each other while straining at the levers, keeping them down with both hands.

Though nominally without any intelligence of their own, the mage hands spot their opportunity to have a go at Tyra. She’s quite well armored, leaving little room anywhere to squeeze in for a fondle, except perhaps the back of her tunic. As she’s busy with the handle, the mage hands float up to right behind her ass, slip their hands into the waistband of her skirt-like tunic, beneath the armor of her torso, and in tandem manage to yank it down all the way across the curvature of Tyra’s formidable buttocks, exposing itty-bitty panties, almost thong-like in their minimal surface area. Without leaving her with so much as an opportunity to register this incorporeal pantsing, one hand immediately swoops in to go for a wedgie, while the other starts smacking her buttcheeks as hard as it can, alternating between both halves.

Tyra shrieks and yelps at the sudden activity, letting go of the handle and confusedly spinning around, nearly tripping over her own tunic, which begins to wrap around her ankles. The mage hand holding her underwear lets go, letting it audibly snap against her ass. Meanwhile, the wall plummets back down to the floor.

Tyra looks around in confusion and indignation, unable to find a perpetrator, before there’s a sudden tug near her crotch and she spots two invisible forces pulling at the front of her panties at a downward angle.

The dwarf lets out a series of embarrassed, perturbed noises, and fumbles with her holy symbol, before a bright flash of divine energy visibly ripples through the hall. With a soft ‘ftz’ noise both mage hands are dispelled, her panties uncomfortably snapping back into place, if a little askew.

She lets out a breath and leans against the wall, only to look up and see Diana looking right at her, one hand pressed across her lips in a shocked expression. Only then does the realization hit her that she’s standing there practically naked below the waist, with her tunic caught around her ankles and her panties somewhere around her upper thighs. She can feel her face flushing to match her bright red hair.

Her shoulderplates clank loudly as she hurriedly begins pulling her underwear and tunic back up, muttering ”uhm... some kind of invisible ****.. tried messing with me”

-“So I see,” Diana still has a hand pressed to her mouth. Tyra finds it hard to tell if it is secondhand embarrassment, or amusement at her expense.

“I dispelled it... but -uhm, I now have {Tyra’s dispel magic uses left:} {if Tyra’s dispel magic uses left: = 1}use{else}uses{endif} of dispel magic left today.”

Without much words said, the pair pull the levers again, and keep them pushed down until the wall is all the way up, where it locks in place with a satisfactory click.