from “Missing Daddy” on page 12:
Daddy was a hedonist, and he taught me the pleasures of indulgence. We could spend hours in the park, lazing in the grass, soaking up the sun, his paw resting possessively on my throat as my head snuggled his furry thigh.
from “The Test” on page 29:
It’s a tenuous separation between us and the world.
from “The Tender Sweet Young Thing” on page 38:
…flats because her fibro had been flaring all week and heels were not fucking possible.
from “The Tender Sweet Young Thing” on page 39:
The rest of the tigers started up their scooters, circling slowly.
from “The Tender Sweet Young Thing” on page 45:
He was glad he didn’t need to put his armor back on just yet, content to have his tender spots showing for a bit longer.
from “My Will” on page 49:
I went from fifteen years of nothing to a glorious cock deep in my throat.
from “My Will” on page 50:
That sound is like nothing else, vicious in its intimacy, building fear exponentially.
from “My Will” on page 53:
But I knew the purpose was the same, the very thing I feared. I was being stripped of self.
Realizing that was what he wanted, for me to disappear. This wasn’t play for him. It was real. This was the only worth he saw in me. The rest he wanted to diminish and destroy until I was too helpless, felt too worthless, to do anything but serve his will. He didn’t want me, didn’t see me. Service to him was collaborating in my own self-destruction. I didn’t want to collaborate in my annihilation anymore.
from “First Time Since” on page 59:
We build these intense relationships, fill them with ritual and intent and all of our full selves, and even if they end honorably (as this one did), that doesn’t stop us from feeling ripped in two. Like a vital piece of self just walked out the door, never to return.
All of the opportunities for service that I created led to this sense that we were one unit—interdependent. So I began to take them back.
from “First Time Since” on page 62:
Something would click into place as I put my hands on him. I knew he was not ready for me, and I definitely was not ready for him, but the draw was there.
from “Falling for Essex” on page 76:
Damn, it was hard to put it out there, to show his need. But sometimes a top has to beg, too.
from “My Precious Whore” on page 81:
There is something very raw and very queer about playing with this kind of power.
from “This Boy” on page 89:
This boy is teasing me with his eagerness. This boy does not know what he is offering. I sit and watch, my muscles tensing as I stop myself from reaching for him. I breathe in, slowly, feeling my hunger grow as my sadism rears its head, a beast on the prowl.
from “It’s My Job” on page 92:
The pain is not important. It is just a way to illuminate the path.
from “It’s My Job” on page 98:
There is no sound like a belt being ripped from its loops.
from “My Pretty Boy” on page 105:
That was the point of this, the repetition of praise, to create a space where Rickie felt like it was good to be pretty, good to be his femme trans boy self. This kind of gender play was so fucking intense for Jax, felt like he was walking a very dangerous edge.
from “My Pretty Boy” on page 106:
“Fuck!” Rickie shouted. “Not yet, not yet. We need more pain first. You are going to take everything I’ve got for you tonight, aren’t you?”
from “My Pretty Boy” on page 107:
“I know you hate it when I’m gentle. You just need to take it right now. For me.”
Yes, finally, some kind of pain to wrap himself into.
Please hurt me, please. I need the pain, need to be strong against it, need that so fucking much. Please.
from “My Pretty Boy” on page 110:
He curled in on himself, wrapping his own arms around his body, desperate to hold on to something, to be held and touched.
from “Please” on page 120:
I felt so safe. His cock didn’t just fill up my cunt—it seemed to reach inside me and fill up empty spaces I didn’t even know were there. I felt deliriously full of him, and it was enough to make me cry even more, my eyes spilling over. I was all wrapped up in him, and I knew this was exactly where I wanted to be.
from “How He Likes It” on page 124:
That is the best a lover can offer us, to really see us and celebrate what they see.
It is a rare and precious thing to be seen and valued for who we are. So often I had been told I was too much, too loud, too smart for my own good, took up too much space, was too needy, too sexual. Sir had other things to say about my hunger, my desire, my size, my power. My reflection in his eyes told me I did not need to hide my need or my self. I could bring it all to him. That I could not possibly be too much for him. It scared me every time, felt risky every time, and was exactly what I wanted.
from “How He Likes It” on page 129:
He was being gentle, and it made my cunt grab for something, aching to be filled.
from “How He Likes It” on page 130:
I couldn’t do it anymore. Anything but this. Give me pain. Force me to take it for your pleasure. Fuck me ruthlessly. Just don’t give and give like this.
from “How He Likes It” on page 131:
My ass was full, my cunt stuffed, my legs spread wide, my arms held down, and I could not take it and yet I had to. They were giving me exactly what I needed, what I had begged for, and I didn’t want it anymore, but I still took it because, while I wasn’t in the want of it, I knew how much I desperately needed these two men to take me there.
from “How He Likes It” on page 134:
They were big enough, powerful enough, and cruel enough to hold all of my aching desperate need, wring every ounce of it out of me.
from “Facing The Dark” on page 135:
He knows that I’m capable of taking all of that, and, for right now, he desperately wants it off his shoulders, wants to face a different darkness and find his feet again so he knows they are there. He wants to know that he can do this, that he is indeed capable of such psychic and physical courage.
from “Facing The Dark” on page 136:
There is something so intense about breaching the body envelope, thrusting my way inside the skin. It is beyond intimate; it’s invasion at its most basic.
from “Facing The Dark” on page 140:
I kept pounding him, knowing it was going to break through, watching for it, until it burst from his eyes. Tears slid down his face, and he kept standing there and taking it, letting it bubble out and through. It was gorgeous to watch. What courage that takes.
from “Alley Obsession” on page 147:
The danger is part of the point. I’ve heard so many stories about fag public sex, and danger is one of the key elements that makes it hot for me.
from “Ready” on page 162:
Sometimes I think about Daddy and get so giddy knowing that I get to be his boy, that a scrawny faggot like me is lucky enough to be claimed by this big tough bear of a man. This was one of those times, as he rested a paw on my head and pressed my mouth against his stomach. Daddy was big enough to keep me safe, strong enough to hold all of me, cruel enough to give me exactly what I needed, and scary enough to keep me coming back for more.
from “Ready” on page 164:
“Scream all you want, boy. Scream as loud and as much as you want. Call me every name you can. I’m still going to be here.”
from “Dancing for Daddy” on page 179:
It took a long time for me to reach this point. Being genderfluid, I explored age play as a boy first. It didn’t have the same risks, didn’t feel as close. A sexual abuse survivor, it is a very loaded thing for me to play as a girl because I was abused as a girl. There is always the possibility of memory, of real-life trauma intruding. I must have intense trust in the person I am playing with.
I trust my Daddy, trust that she will push me, will be good to me, will stop if I need it, will care for me if I fall apart.
from “Ready” on page 182:
Some piece of me notices it is lubed and condomed, and marvels at her skill in doing so without me knowing. She knows that Daddy wants her little girl too much to be bothered with lube and condoms. She also knows that my adult self would never consent to sex without them.
from “The Tale of Jan and Tam” on page 202:
…she did help Jan be more certain that pain wasn’t just a fantasy, but a need.
from “The Tale of Jan and Tam” on page 206:
Hir pack was formed around the idea that naming your desire is the only way to really be alive and free. Especially if it scares the shit out of you.
from “Strong” on page 221:
We push gender to its own edges, play its sharpness against our throats, fear in our mouths, ache in our guts, building armor against becoming what we fear.
from “Strong” on page 226:
“Being a girl is like being without armor. Sometimes like being without skin even. Your power is in your vulnerability and openness. Most of the time, girl is not a safe thing to be.
He asked specifically for that, said he wanted to walk out tough and strong and wearing his armor.
