The Lost Bet at the Finca

The air is humid, the wind has died down, and you're standing on the terrace of a secluded finca, surrounded by palm trees and the distant sound of the sea. Three masked men block the only exit, their gazes sliding over your body as they slowly approach. "You lost the bet, sweetheart," one says in a rough voice, pulling his pants down further. "Now you're going to satisfy all of us – exactly the way we want." His hand grabs your wrist while another roughly strips the bikini from your shoulders. The third laughs quietly, his breath hot against your ear: "Don't worry, we won't let you go until you've gotten every last drop out of us." What do you do? Do you resist or play along as their hands already wander over your skin?