The Professional’s Assignment
Nalú had everything prepared. This was her first official assignment, and the nervous energy humming beneath her skin was almost electric. She wanted to prove she was a professional, the best in her field. For the long drive, she chose an outfit that was intentionally provocative: a denim miniskirt, a low-cut red t-shirt, and matching red heels. The bold color matched the highlights in her hair, making her feel powerful and visible.
She felt the effect of her choice immediately at a roadside stop. Men stared, their eyes lingering on her cleavage. While in the restroom, a trucker attempted to corner her, his hand sliding beneath her skirt. Nalú played along for a fleeting second, letting him believe he had a chance, before shoving him away with a sharp force and escaping to her car. She didn’t care about his shouts; she had a schedule to keep.
Following the precise instructions, she arrived at a quiet port tavern. Before stepping out, she applied a deep red lipstick, a ritual of preparation. Inside, a tall, muscular bartender greeted her with a cold, indifferent gaze. Nalú ordered a tequila, her red lips punctuating every word, but he remained unmoved. Confused, she retreated to the restroom to touch up her makeup, ensuring her lashes were dark and her lips were perfect.
When she emerged, the tavern had transformed. The lights were off, the door was locked, and the bartender had vanished. A single pack of cigarettes sat on the counter. Suddenly, the click of a Zippo echoed through the silence. A flame ignited the cigarette in her mouth, and a warm breath brushed against her neck. “Babe, you weren’t punctual,” a voice whispered. “Now I have to punish you.”
Nalú smiled secretly. He didn’t let her turn around. With a firm grip, he used his thumb to smear the red lipstick across her face and smudge the makeup from her eyes, stripping away the mask. He moved with a dominant precision, using her own thong to bind her wrists to the bar. He stripped her bare, leaving her exposed and trembling with anticipation.
The first impact was sudden and powerful. He entered her from behind in one deep thrust, his movements brusque and demanding. He punished her tardiness with rhythmic, heavy strikes, his hands gripping her breasts and occasionally delivering sharp slaps to her skin. Nalú bit her lip, refusing to let a single moan escape, fueling his intensity until he filled her completely, claiming her with a primal release.
He turned her around, kissing her smeared lips before hoisting her onto the bar. He bound her wrists to the beer tap, leaving her arched and vulnerable. He played with ice cubes, sliding the freezing crystals over her nipples and then deep inside her. The contrast of the ice and the heat of his tongue drove her to a shattering climax, her muscles seizing in an overwhelming wave of pleasure.
But he wasn’t finished. He positioned himself between her legs, staring deeply into her eyes as he drove back into her. He called her a brat, a disobedient pet, but Nalú knew the truth—this was a shared game of power and surrender. As they reached a second, synchronized peak, she felt a profound sense of satisfaction.
Exhausted and marked by their passion, Nalú lay on the bar. He untied her from the tap but left her wrists bound together. He placed a cigarette between her lips and flicked the Zippo. The truce had begun, but it would only last as long as the ember burned. What happened next was entirely up to him.