My client tonight was a writer. He didn't want my pussy or my ass or even my mouth on his cock. He just wanted me to sit naked in his lap while he typed, one hand idly stroking my thigh, the other on his keyboard. He said he needed a muse that didn't talk back. I sat perfectly still for two hours, my head against his chest, listening to the clack of keys. It was the quietest I’ve ever felt. When he finished a chapter, he fed me a strawberry and told me I was a good girl. I came without him even touching me, just from the words and the stillness. I think I’m broken in a new way. Nya.