A game of war. Playing each other's cards, giving up bets and exchanges. It was all perfect harmony of life. This slate blue brute seemed to be playing along as well. Both were waiting for te next surprise. Fake flattery flashed upon his features, all to obvious to the harlot from practice spent in the art of craftiness. "No need to be flattered." She batted her eyes playfully, hoping to somewhat infuriate the now approaching man. From his side, came some heat. He may tower over her so, but she wasn't fazed. Though she should be, if she were an average 'slave', but she wasn't average. Just a little extraordinary, correct? With each small approach, came the lowering of his crown so he was able to stay within range of her. Silently, this almost infuriated her. She wasn't that short, but she held her indignation at bay, quietly sitting pretty.
So the brute caught onto her game, and he had begun to reach toward the controller and was learning how to work it without thumbs. A wry smile curled his features, as his rumbling voice came, a musing silence between the words. Depending on the plaything, eh? Her haunches shifted as she pushed her forepaws to the tippy toes she could find, craning her neck and whispering into the brute's ear. "You wouldn't play so rough with me, would you?" Perhaps this was the time to not reveal her true age, but her faked age. Nobody would suspect a thing. "I'm just an innocent little girl." Then she would retreat like waves from a beach. Her lyrics were hushed, as she spoke solely to the male. "But could playtime wait until next season?"
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