Miri gasps as she recognizes the pieces of Jordan's equipment lying in pieces around her, just barely remembering not to raise a hand to her mouth.  Jordan's equipment seems to be in tatters, but there is no blood.  That would seem to suggest that, similar to her own dress, Jordan was not hurt, so much as her equipment was hurt.  But what do they plan- her line of though is cut off as the armored figure closes on her.<br/><br/>"Mmm!"  Miri moans as her opponent brushes his hands across her breasts, the cold hands sending a shock of sensation through her.  Again, she notes how unusually sensitive she seems, her delicate pink nipples instantly hardening at the touch.  Her eyes go wide as he seizes her wrists.  "What... what are you doing?"  She gasps as he lifts her into the air.  The cheers of the crowd at the sight of her naked ass, well-toned from dancing, on open display,  Miri reddens, twisting, but helpless to avoid the gaze of the crowd.  She gasps again, her eyes wide, as the armored man turns her, displaying her front to the crowd.  "No!"  Miri gasps, desperately twisting, her generous breasts bobbing lightly as her torso moves, her creamy thighs gyrating this way and that as she tries to cover herself.  Her cheeks burn red with embarrassment... and a hint of excitement?  She tries to force the excitement from her mind, but the drug is too strong, and Miri feels a hint of arousal as the crowd openly admires her lovely nude body.