Time to cash in

SORCERER: "I'd say it's time to collect. She promised us a job and I think we've more than proved how skilled we are." We get up, and make our way into the backroom after the barmaid.

DM: You all rise from the table and manoeuvre your way through the lighthearted chaos of the crowd, still laughing and hollering in the aftermath of your antics, and pass behind the bar into the dimly lit back room. As you enter you catch an eyeful of the barmaid's bare buttocks, as she's looking around the back room for an alternative set of clothes. She spins around with wide-eyed surprise at the sound of your entry, and immediately snatches a dishcloth off the wall which she holds up to her chest. The small towel is far insufficient to hide all her curves, and she can only narrowly stretch it to cover the naughtiest bits of her breasts and crotch.

BARD: "I think we've pretty much proved our mettle so it's time, my dear, for you to fulfill your end of the bargain. You owe us a job - preferably one that pays well."

ROGUE: "We're not here to humiliate you further, but to ensure you hold true to your word."

SORCERER: "Indeed. A wager is a wager, and you lost fair and square."

DM: The barmaid's cheeks are flush with embarrassment, and there's a mixture of astonishment and indignation in her eyes. She sputters and stammers in protest, her voice laced with indignity and frustration. "This is not what we agreed upon! It was a playful challenge, just a kinky little underwear guessing game, not a request to abjectly humiliate me in front of a tavern full of people!" Her words begin to flow like a torrent, releasing a passionate rant: "Everybody could see my... everything! I've never been so mortified in my life. I've had my fair share of rowdy patrons, but this? This was beyond the pale! You've turned me into a public spectacle, exposed me tits-and-ass in front of dozens of people, and for what? A cheap laugh??!"

SORCERER: "...B-but you challenged our discretion, ingenuity and subtl-"

DM, interrupting them: "What about this is discrete?!" She points at herself, causing the top of the dishcloth to fold down and exposing her boobs before she hastily readjusts.

The Bard, Sorcerer and Rogue alternated between snickering, and shifting uncomfortably in their seats. They had slightly forgotten the DM's maxim that 'the world responded to their actions' (in a reasonably logical and internally consistent manner) and maybe they had crossed a line with all the indignity they put this poor barmaid through, though at the same time the image of this busty barmaid ranting at them while desperately clinging onto a tiny dishcloth to protect her modesty was a little hilarious.

DM: "You can kiss the job goodbye. Now get out of here before I call the guards, mark my words."