Bends her over the desk.

The conquest is even more sweet when Orterres sees the bounty hunter's frustration as Monika does a final spin to face the gangster knowing that it's time to pay up in full. Sliding her fingers under the waistband of her thong while gyrating her hips back and forth Monika bends at her knees, pushing the skimpy garment down over her hips. The striptease portion of the “audition” thus comes to an end as the bounty hunter's last piece of clothing hits the floor.

Slightly winded from the excursion of dancing in the humid office, let alone the tense nature of being humiliated by the crime lord, the bare-ass loser's body is covered with a thin sheen of sweat while her chest slightly heaves as Monika tries to catch her breath. Standing with her hands to her side, the bounty hunter allows the victorious Orterres a full view of the unwrapped gift he has won.

“Clap, clap, clap.” The gangster slowly applauds in a taunting almost sarcastic fashion. Grabbing the gin bottle he walks around the desk and stands to the side of the defeated, naked, adventuress and takes a swig while his eyes ravish his prize. Keeping her gaze forward, Monika steels herself.

“Need a drink?” Orterres grins and holds the bottle up to buxom redhead's mouth.

“Don't think so.” The thirsty Monika lies and calmly turns her head to face her tormentor.

“So rude.” The gangster smiles and tips the bottle, pouring the remaining **** across Monika's naked chest causing a gasp to slip from the surprised bounty hunter's tense lips.

“Chichotas, I was going to simply bend you over my desk and rough fuck you raw.” Orterres waves the empty bottle at Monika as he lectures. “But seeing this disrespectful attitude I remember how you responded to my complaint about not being able to sit for a week after our first wager with a condescending smile and laugh.”

Orterres tosses the bottle away and begins to undo his belt. “Tonight, let me return the favor.”

Taking his belt off the gangster commands, “Get over to desk, Chichotas; Bend over, forearms flat, legs straight, ass up.” Orterres folds his belt in two and holds it like a whip. “Assume the position, loser.”