I hate being told to shut up. It angers me to be told I talk too much. If I’m speaking, it means I have something to say, for fuck’s sake.
But being rendered speechless, either via shock, or fear, or physical restraint?
Yea, that. Thank you, please. And more, please.
Maybe it’s the sensation of being overpowered? Surely that it part of it. But one of the things about which I am fairly confident is my ability to speak, and to speak well. When I lose that, part of me does become panicky and indignant. And, of course, somewhat…aroused?
That’s the thing isn’t it? To lose the thing you prize the most, to have your voice taken away…?
What a lovely gift, that loss.