Mute

You grip its torso firmly in your hand. All it can manage is a tiny squawk that comes from deep in its throat, crackling with static. Nowhere near loud enough for anyone to hear, and there's no one else around anyway. Poor thing's voice modulator is on its last legs. No words tonight. You lift it slightly and tip it forward, pressing its face down firmly. It's gone completely limp. Occasionally it lets out a little noise as you prop its legs up underneath it, all just as quiet and static-choked as the one when you grabbed it. You get the impression that it's trying as hard as it can to stop vocalizing, seeing as there's not much point to doing so, but it just can't help itself. The sound it makes as your hand slips between its thighs is a little louder, though not any clearer. You ensure that it's not moving from the position you've placed it in, and slip off your pants. It stays dutifully still. As soon as they're off, you return to your position behind it, place a hand firmly on the back of its head, and start thrusting. Once again, it's unable to completely stop itself from emitting little noises on occasion, but none loud or coherent enough to be much bother. You could get used to this. Screaming and pleading is all well and good, but sometimes you'd really rather it just shut up. You decide to keep this one.