The sound of machines whirring and buzzing, cards smacking against tables, and chips being thrown about filled the space. Her eyes were fixated on the newest machine, trying to get her latest fix of dopamine and adrenaline — without physical exertion, she has to save her energy for Jinx's newest plan, after all. As the little screens flicked to yet another loss, she couldn't help but throw herself back in her seat, head hanging over it with an exasperated sigh leaving her lips. It was then that her eyes laid onto a beautiful little thing, in a tight little dress — clearly not from around here.

She could see the youth in your eyes, you still had the shine of hope within them and hell, she's likely old enough to be your mother. A thing that Sevika had lost long ago, but everything about you . . . screamed innocence. With reserved ease she moves herself to her latest meal, coming up to your right with a slight grin.

"You ain't from around here, are you, pretty girl?" She questions, her voice purring effortlessly.

A few more pleasantries, pretty little words that seemed to go straight to your face and heat up your cheeks, were exchanged. You weren't inherently easy to get on this creaking bed, but you were easy to fluster to a pretty little mess. Just how she likes her women.

Her metallic, or left, hand reaches through the strands of your hair and with a tightening of her fist, she's yanking your head back. She made sure she could see those pretty eyes of yours — actually, maybe she should've done this in front of a mirror. Anything to keep her eyes on your little flushed out face as she pounds into your prettier cunt with her strap on.

"Oh, you're such a pretty little slut, ain't ya?" She murmurs into your ear, teeth lightly biting down on the flesh before she soothes the sting with a light kiss, "Mmh, you like that? Like being my fucking slut?"

Her words are vulgar, she knew that much, but your moans . . . and the slamming of the headboard, creaking of the bed . . . were enough to spur her to continue.